Free Fly With Fire by Frances Randon Page B

Zack into the
room. The plush white sofa looked as if someone had tossed a can of paint
toward it. One arm had been saturated with blood that had dried to a dark
reddish brown. The cushions on that end had a lot of blood too. Her had head
been on the arm as Monica had said. Zack could tell the blood spatter had been
blocked by something. There was dried blood on the carpet as well. It had
spattered onto the wall, but not as much as it might have. Monica Whitman had said
the girl had pulled a throw up over her face. The throw had been taken into
evidence. The sofa no doubt gone over with a fine tooth comb.
    Other than the mess it looked
like any other upscale hotel suite. The coffee maker was in place. The cups had
been taken. Finger print dust was on every surface. All the drawers had been
gone through as well as the closet. The toiletries had been dusted as well as
the sink, toilet handle and bath faucets. He looked at her makeup and lotions,
her private woman things he thought. He didn’t know from Clinique but he knew
high end when he saw it. He could see the shine where the tub had been sprayed
with iridescent solution to detect trace amounts of blood. A cosmetic case had
been left on the unmade bed. It hadn’t been considered evidence apparently. He
took it into the bathroom and started collecting things. He threw her
toothbrush and paste along with all the different bottles and jars into the
cosmetic case.
    “I guess she bought it on the
couch there.” The pit bull is a bright one isn’t he? Zack thought reaching into
the shower for shampoo. He looked in the cabinet. Okay, she’s on her own there,
he said to himself looking at her feminine products. On the nightstand was a
copy of Eric Larson’s ‘Devil in the White City’. Guess she thought she’d read
up on the locale, he thought with a chuckle. “So you think it’s the black guy?
That’s what they think right? Wanted himself a little slant.” Zack looked at
the pudgy face. He’d like to make trouble for this guy. Just not right now. He
picked up the dusty book and put it in the case. “You should hurry it up. I’m
supposed to be outside the door.”
    “You’re doing a great job
watching the place. I’ll put in a word.” He rifled through her clothes and
threw some things on the bed. “She should have a suitcase or two.”
    “Yeah, guess they got those
in evidence.” The guard tossed a pillow to the end of the bed. “Pillowcases are
useful.” He looked at the jewelry on the dresser.  He fingered a gold
bracelet. Zack brushed next to him.
    “Excuse me, what did you say
your name was?” He swept the jewelry into the case. She’d have to untangle it.
    “Disdale, Stan. They didn’t
make a plate for me yet.”
    New on the job and already
screwed it, Zack thought. “Stan, Al will be glad to hear how professional you’ve
been. Mayor Tyler too.” He picked up the filled pillow case. “You see I didn’t
take anything that was marked or bagged. You kept an eye on me the whole time.
Good job. Thanks a lot.”
    “Hey, you think you could
swing some tickets my way? She’s the star, right? You know my kids would like…”
    “No problem, Stan. I’ll see
you get what you deserve. Thanks again.” Zack headed for the elevator while
Disdale watched. He gave Zack kind of a friendly wave and crossed his arms
standing erectly. Zack nodded and entered the elevator with a sigh. Thank god
for fools, he thought.

Four
     
    “Thank you so much! My
toothbrush! It’s amazing what we take for granted until we have to do without
it. I really appreciate all your help, Detective Burnham.” Mo dug into the pillowcase
and clutched a flannel tank top. “Roddy, I feel civilized again! Some, anyway.”
She went through her toiletries. “Thank God, at least I can clean myself up and
put on clean clothes. Jesus. Ling has just been murdered and I’m carrying on
about my toothbrush.”
    “Momo, we are only human. The
fragility of life make us to know it is