Ochoa, who was standing at the oven, said, “Detective?” Heat stood and
followed the beam of his flashlight. In the back corner of the oven, where it had
been blocked from view by the body, sat a folded coat. Just like the badge and
lanyard, it showed no signs of scorching. Detective Ochoa used a long-handled pizza
paddle to shovel it up. When he slid it forward to them, nobody spoke. They just
stared at the coat and what was on top of it: a neat coil of red string and a dead
rat.
Detective Feller had completed his interviews with the cook and the busboy by the
time Heat, Rook, Raley, and Ochoa emerged from the kitchen. “Their stories square
up,” he reported. “They served their last pies at midnight, tore down, closed up
at one A.M., came back at nine, and found the vic.” He flipped through pages of
notes. “No unusual activity in the days prior, no sign of burglary or forced entry.
They do have a closed-circuit camera system, but it died last week. No beefs with
customers or vendors. As for the health inspector, Conklin’s name or photo didn’t
ring a bell with either one. I held back the info about where you found the ID, of
course, but when I asked, generally, if they touched or tampered with the body, it
was a double no.”
Heat said, “Soon as we rustle up some better head shots from family or DHMH, have
them take a look. Meanwhile, go ahead and kick them loose.”
Determining exact time and cause of death would be tricky, since a baked corpse
corrupted cellular structures and body temps. So while Heat left her BFF the medical
examiner to take the body to 30th Street for its postmortem, she plotted the
immediate moves for her crew. Ochoa would deploy a team of uniformed officers to
canvass the neighborhood with cell-capture copies of Conklin’s ID photo. Once the
unis got launched, Ochoa would go to Conklin’s home to notify family and see what
could be learned there. Raley would do his usual spot check for area security
cameras that might have caught something. Heat put Detective Feller on a trip to the
Health Department to get the victim’s employment records and to interview his
supervisor about his case work and office relationships. As for Rook, he offered to
be an extra brain at the squad briefing, and Nikki couldn’t resist saying, “You
flatter yourself, but sure.”
When the two of them stepped out of Domingo’s Famous, Rook wagged his head in
disdain at the gathering of onlookers behind the yellow tape. “You know, Nikki, I
can’t get over the looky-loos who hang out for whatever macabre thrill they get out
of watching a body bag loaded into a van. More like looky-loozahs.”
A voice called out from the crowd. “Jameson? Jameson Rook?” They stopped. “Here,
over here!” The waving arm belonged to a big-haired young woman in black leather
pants and what could charitably be described as fuck-me heels. She pushed to the
front of the rubberneckers and pressed the fullness of her leopard-print vest
against the yellow tape. “Could I get a picture with you?… Please?”
Sheepish, Rook muttered to Nikki, “It occurs to me that, after my Times Square
thing, I may have Tweeted that this is where I was going…”
“Make it quick.” And as Rook headed over to the woman, Nikki added, “You do know
this is why Matt Lauer Purells.”
Heat waited in the undercover car while Rook posed with not just the one fan, but
each of three additional babes who materialized from the crowd. At least he wasn’t
signing their breasts this time.
She made a quick e-mail check. “Yesss,” she said aloud to the empty car when she
saw one from a private investigator she’d been waiting to hear back from. “You
about done?” she said as Rook got in the passenger seat.
“The photo was just the beginning. She wanted me to Tweet the picture myself and
add hashtag-ruggedlyhandsome.” He put his head back on the headrest and said,
“Apparently, I’m trending as we speak.”
Nikki started the car. “Remember Joe Flynn?”
Rook sat upright. “That PI. The one who has the hots for you?—No.”
“Well, that PI did me a favor and dug through his archives and found some old
surveillance photos of my mom. He wants to have lunch.”