Prayers for the Dead. Faye Kellerman

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      Decker stared into space. “Parked in a back alley like this … Sparks wasn’t sightseeing. So what was he doing here?”

      “Parking the car for the restaurant,” Martinez suggested.

      “Then why wouldn’t he have used the valet up in front?”

      “He was cheap,” Oliver said. “Lots of rich people are.”

      “Or it was a carjacking,” Webster added.

      Decker didn’t buy it. A carjacker wouldn’t make his drop in back of a populated restaurant. His eyes traveled back to the car, scanned the corpse. The scene hadn’t gotten any less horrifying. “Could be someone lured Sparks here. Let’s get a time frame for him. Try to reconstruct his day. Go back to New Chris and talk to anyone who saw him. Call me in a half hour for an update. Go.”

      Marge and Oliver looked at each other. Oliver said, “You drive?”

      “I’ll drive.”

      Oliver flipped her the keys, and they left.

      Decker said, “Anyone talk to the valet yet?”

      Martinez said no. “Guy’s Hispanic. Want me to do it?”

      “Yes. Find out if he heard or saw anything. Also the kitchen faces the back alley. Maybe the help heard something.”

      “Si, si, Señor Wences.”

      Decker turned to Webster. “You canvass the block?”

      “It’s all stores, Loo,” Martinez said. “Everything’s shut down at this hour.”

      “How about someone working late in one of the back rooms?” Webster said. “Some soul mighta heard something going down.”

      Decker agreed. “Canvass the block. On your way back, Tom, check all the alley Dumpsters. We’ve got a gunshot wound, maybe we’ll find a gun. We’ve got multiple stab wounds, maybe someone chucked a bloody knife.”

      Webster said, “Odd, Loo. We got gunshot and stab wounds.”

      “Very.”

      “Suggestive of more than one person?”

      “Indeed.” Decker looked around. “This much blood spatter … maybe we’ll find more than one shoe print.”

      Martinez said, “Or a bloody glove.”

      “Man, you jest but somewhere there is a pile of bloody clothing begging to be tagged and filed. Be careful. And before you pick up anything to bag it, snap a picture. Anyone have a camera?”

      “I got a thirty-five millimeter in my car,” Martinez said.

      “Good,” Decker said. “If you got enough film, Bert, take a few pictures of the body for me.”

      “Will do.”

      “Y’always carry a camera, Bert?” Webster asked.

      “The missus keeps one in the cars for spontaneous family shots,” Martinez answered. “I think I’ve got half a roll left over from our Labor Day picnic.”

      Webster said, “Might be a good idea if you took that one in for developing, Bert. Separate the postmortems of Sparks from the family snapshots.”

      “A very good idea,” Decker concurred. “Everyone be sure to cover your butt. It plays well on prime time.”

      Martinez said, “Speaking of prime time, Loo, look who’s coming our way.”

      Decker’s eyes strained in the darkness. Strapp with camera crews in tow.

      “I’ll handle it.”

      “Then we’re dismissed?” Webster said.

      “Unless you want to talk to Strapp.”

      Martinez waved good-bye. He and Webster headed down the alley, jogging away from Strapp.

      Decker turned to Gaynor. “You stay here at the scene, wait for the ME and Forensics. Make sure no one … and I mean no one … screws up evidence. You watch them, Farrell, stand over their shoulders and direct if necessary. No screwups. Not while I’m in charge.”

      “Where are you going, Loo?”

      “I’m going to satisfy Strapp, and hopefully deflect the media. Get the field clear so my detectives can do their jobs. Then, I’m going to notify next of kin.”

      Gaynor patted his back. “Brave man.”

      Decker felt sick inside. “Someone has to take out the garbage.”

       3

      As the captain advanced with the television army, Decker held up his index finger indicating a minute. Strapp held out an open palm, telling the media troops to halt, and said something to a coiffed brunette in a teal-blue silk pants suit. She placed her hands on her hips, and shook her head defiantly. Strapp was not impressed and shot back a response, his face hard, his shoulders stiff. The brunette looked upward, threw up her hands, then went back to her underlings. Strapp approached Decker by himself. Gaynor stood back to guard the body, happy to be out of the picture.

      Because the Captain was a formidable man. He was of average height—a lean man with lean features. But his eyes were knowing, intense. Strapp was a clear thinker and a good problem solver. Deliberate, almost cagy at times. Decker had trouble reading him. So far, the Cap seemed to be a man of his word.

      Strapp said, “Fill me in.”

      “I just arrived around fifteen minutes ago.” Decker smoothed his mustache. “I’ve sent Martinez in to interview the restaurant personnel, Webster’s canvassing the block. We’ve got at least three additional patrol cars making passes through the area. Gaynor’s waiting for the ME and Forensics. I’ve assigned Oliver and Dunn over to New Chris where Sparks operated and attended.”

      Strapp nodded. “So you know who Azor Sparks is … was.”

      “Yes, sir. That’s why I’m here.”

      “Any murder is a blow for our community. Shit like this is an effing big, black eye. Whatever you need for this one. Just get it done and get it done quickly.”

      “Absolutely.”

      “If that means double shifts, then you work double shifts.”

      “No problem.” Decker stuck his hands in his pockets, thought of Rina, made a mental note to send her flowers. Better make them roses … long stems.

      Strapp said, “You looked at the body?”

      “Yes, СКАЧАТЬ