Hangman. Faye Kellerman
sick and someone got me a can of soda. And that’s that.”
Decker said, “Did you touch the body at all? Maybe feel for a pulse?”
Tinsley turned green. “I mighta. I don’t remember too well.”
“Did you get a good look at the face?”
“I just glanced at it…her. It didn’t even look human.”
“Did you recognize her as someone you know or have seen around the area?”
“Tell you the truth, I didn’t look that long.”
“Could you glance at the body another time, just to see if you can identify her?”
“I suppose so…”
Decker led him over to the corpse. Someone from the coroner’s office had given the go-ahead to cut her down. She laid her on a gurney with a sheet over her head. S.I.D. was printing her hands. Decker gently removed the blanket to expose the face. It was still red and puffy, but a bit less distorted.
The foreman stared at the face for a few seconds, and then averted his eyes. He appeared to be holding down his stomach. “I don’t know her at all.”
“Thank you for trying.” Decker guided him away from the scene, the two of them walking toward the cruiser.
Tinsley gave a sick smile. “At least I didn’t heave this time. When can I go?”
“We’re almost done,” Decker told him. “I’d like you to write down exactly what you told me, including that you don’t recognize the corpse.”
“Uh, sure. No problem.”
Decker handed him a tablet of yellow lined paper. “You can sit in the police car while you write. I’ll take the soda can if you’re through with it. Do you want another one?”
“Yeah, if you wouldn’t mind.” Tinsley handed the can to Decker.
“It’s not a problem. Could you also give me the contractor’s name and cell number?”
“His name is Keith Wald. I have to check my cell for the phone number because right now, I’m too shaken to remember it even though I’ve dialed it a thousand times.”
“I’ll check your cell for the number. As a matter of fact, would you mind if I looked your cell phone over? I’d like to get the exact times of the calls you made.”
“Sure.” Tinsley handed him the phone. “You can even look over any of the numbers I used. That’s what you want to do, right?”
“If you wouldn’t mind.”
“I guess it’s natural to suspect everyone. Most of my calls are business, but there are probably some to my friends. I’ll tell you what number belongs to who. Anything, as long as it takes my mind off of that.”
Tinsley pointed to the house, assumedly to the body in the house. A moment later, Decker espied a mustachioed, dark-haired man charging across the lot, escorted by Officer Mary Breckenridge. The man’s face was all seams, ruts, and pits, with a strong cleft chin and a head of dark thick curls. His eyes were hooded by a jutting brow and he was walking bowlegged. He stood around five eight and seemed to be in his late forties.
“That’s the contractor, Lieutenant.” Tinsley yelled and waved his arms. “Yo, Keith! Over here.”
“What the hell happened?” Wald broke into a jog. “What’s going on?”
Decker said, “Officer Breckenridge, why don’t you escort Mr. Tinsley into the cruiser so he can write down his statement.”
“Yes, sir.” Breckenridge gently nudged Tinsley forward. “This way, sir.”
“Wait, wait, wait,” Wald said out loud. “I need to talk to this man.”
“You can talk to him after you talk to me.” Decker introduced himself.
Wald stuck out his hand. “Okay. Could you tell me what the hell is going on? Chuck said something about a body hanging from the rafters.”
“What else did he tell you?”
“That it was a woman. God, that’s horrible.” Wald checked his watch. “The city inspector is supposed to come in about an hour.”
“You’re going to have to cancel that,” Decker said. “No one is allowed on the premises until we’re done.”
“The homeowners are going to blow a gasket. We’re already a couple months behind. Not my fault. Homeowners keep changing their minds.”
“Could I get the names of the homeowners?” When Wald winced, Decker said, “They’re going to find out. It’ll be best if it comes from someone official.”
“Yeah, that’s true. Grossman—Nathan and Lydia. He’s a doctor, so I mostly work with her.”
“Do you have a phone number?”
“Yeah…hold on.” Wald checked his BlackBerry, his mustache twitching as he moved his upper lip. “Here it is.”
Decker copied the number on his notepad. “What can you tell me about them?”
“He’s around sixty, she’s younger…maybe forty. They have two teenage boys—fifteen and thirteen. I think he also has a son from another marriage. God, this is awful!”
The dead woman seemed older than her teens, so the boys didn’t pop out as primary suspects. Still, they needed to be looked at. “How old is the son from the first marriage?”
“I have no idea.” Wald blanched. “Why are you asking?”
“Routine questions. I’ll want to contact everyone associated with the spot,” Decker said. “Do you know his name?”
“No.”
“I’ll get it from the homeowners. Could you to come take a look at the body? See if she looks familiar to you?”
“Me?”
“We don’t have her identification yet. Maybe she’s someone in the neighborhood.”
“I don’t spend a lot of time checking out the ladies. When I’m here, I work.”
“If you’d just take a look at her, I’d appreciate it.”
“Oh God.” Wald heaved a sigh. “All right.”
“Thanks.” Decker walked him over to the crime scene and for the second time in ten minutes uncovered the sheet to reveal the face. She was still bloated and purple, but her features were recognizable as those of a young woman. He could now clearly make out the deep purple ligature mark that had cut into her neck at the Adam’s apple.
He could now say with confidence that the corpse wasn’t Terry McLaughlin.
One less thing to deal with…or more to deal with. Terry was still missing.
Wald gagged and slapped his hand over his mouth. “Never seen her before.” He turned tail and walked away.
Decker covered her face and caught up with Wald. “Thank you for helping.”
“Was that really necessary? Now I’m gonna have nightmares.”
“Did you call the inspector?” Decker said.
“Oh yeah, let me do that right now.” He punched some numbers into his BlackBerry. Five minutes later, he said, “Can’t get hold of the man. Shit!”
“Don’t worry about it,” Decker said. “We’ll take care of him. I’m going to need a list of all the people that have worked here. That shouldn’t be too difficult since you’re only at the framing stage.”
“I’ve had the same guys for three years. It isn’t one of them.”
“I’ll