Page 178 - Labelle Gramercy, On the Case

Jury-rigged

“Certainly not!” I was righteously indignant. “No leaks in this
investigation! The murder scenes were described in detail, however,
including artists’ renderings based on those photos. Journalists
compared them to transcripts of Sherman’s trial to demonstrate to
their audience the obvious Simulian style. But that did not exceed our
guidelines for dealing with the press.”
“Fine. Please have the microfiche and video available for me this
afternoon.”
Damn! That would entail biting off a sizable chunk off the good
will I had built up with the clerks in charge of the morgue files. I
could have kicked myself for not anticipating this typical nit-picking
demand from Labelle.
“Bowan was not missed Easter Sunday morning. Some of the
trailer park residents went to sunrise services, others later in the day.
He was not on terms of familiarity with any of them. The manager’s
dog, however, broke away from its owner as they were walking down
the row of double-wides about four o’clock. It ran to Bowan’s door
and began scratching and whimpering. The manager, Carlotta Rex,
wasn’t aware of his membership in the Simulian jury. Had you been
keeping their names out of the press releases?”
“Well, yes, but they were a matter of public record. We asked the
reporters not to list them again, and they did honor that request. As
for Ms. Rex, she is a hard-bitten customer who claimed never to pay
attention to current events. I saw the inside of her trailer: no TV and
not a newspaper in sight. Plenty of trashy novels, though, and a few
small arms. Licensed, of course.”
“Your notes indicate that after she saw what had happened
through an uncovered window, she called us immediately. So nothing
had been touched when you opened the door?”
“Right. We didn’t have to force it. Lock already broken with some
sort of crowbar or chisel. The unit had more square footage than my
apartment. Two bedrooms—second one used as an office. Bowan
was at the foot of his bed. Looked like he had been attacked while
asleep, sheets and blankets bloody and thrown around. So you see
him as we found him, in precisely the same pose as the first two.”
“Time of death? How precise could we make it?”
“Given the interval, more than twelve hours, and the internal
temperature of the trailer—it acts as a solar cooker if no one turns on

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