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“No television cameras,” Morelli said. “And the photographer is the department’s forensics guy.”
“Hunh,” Lula said. “Let’s get this over with then. It’s not like I was sitting around thinking I’d like to go look at a dead guy with no head. I got sensibilities, you know. The thing is, I hate dead guys.”
“It’s just a fast look,” Morelli said. “And then you can go home.”
“After I talk to the television people.”
“Yeah,” Morelli said. “Whatever. Follow me. We have the body in one of the freezers downstairs.”
“Say what? I’m not going downstairs to no freezer compartments. That’s too creepy. How many bodies does this guy have in his freezer?”
“I don’t know,” Morelli said. “I didn’t ask, and I didn’t look. Would you rather see this body in the morgue?”
“Hell no. Only way you’re getting me in a morgue is toes up.”
“Can we get on with it?” Morelli said. “I’ve had a long day and my intestines are a mess.”
“I hear you,” Lula said. “I got issues, too. I think there must be something going around.”
“I’ll wait here,” I said. “No reason for me to tag along.”
“The hell,” Lula said. “I’m needing moral support. I wasn’t even gonna come until Morelli told me you’d do this with me.”
I cut a look at Morelli. “You said that?”
“More or less.”
“You’re scum.”
“I know,” Morelli said. “Can we please go downstairs now?”
The funeral home had originally been a large Victorian house. It had been renovated, and rooms and garages had been added, but it still had the bones of the original structure. We followed Eli Morton down a hallway off the lobby. To our right was the kitchen. To our left was the door to the basement.
A couple years ago, the basement had been destroyed in a fire. It had all been rebuilt and was now nicely finished off and divided into rooms that opened off a center hall. Morton led us to the room farthest from the stairs.
“I have three cold-storage drawers and three freezer drawers in here,” Morton said. “I almost never use the freezer drawers. They were put in by the previous owner.”
The floor was white tile, and the walls were painted white. The fronts to the freezer drawers were stainless steel. Gazarra pulled a freezer drawer out, and it was filled with tubs of ice cream.
“Costco had a sale,” Morton said. “Your guy is in drawer number three.”
He rolled number three out, Lula gaped at the body without the head, and Lula fainted. Crash. Onto the white tile floor. I didn’t faint because I didn’t look. I walked in staring at my feet, and I never raised my eyes.
“Crap,” Morelli said. “Get her out of here. Someone take her feet. I’ve got the top half.”
Gazarra and Morelli lugged Lula into the hall and stepped back. Lula’s eyes snapped open, and we all stared down at her.
“You fainted,” I told her.
“Did not.”
“You’re on the floor.”
“Well, anybody would have fainted. That was disgusting. People aren’t supposed to be going around without their head,” Lula said. “It’s not right.”
“Was that Chipotle?” Morelli asked.
“Might have been,” Lula said. “Hard to tell with the frost on him, but it looked like the same clothes. I don’t know where they been keeping him, but he got freezer burn.”
