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“Maybe it was, at that,” Holly agreed. “Or maybe recently. Did you pull his prints and get a dental impression?”
The doctor handed over a fingerprint card. “Here are the prints. I didn’t take a dental impression because we’re never going to find his dentist, this side of Havana, anyway, and the Cubans are not going to give us his dental records.”
“Do you have any other ideas about the body?”
“It was a mob execution, but these days, who knows which mob? Cuban? Colombian? Italian? Mexican? Oh, he could be Mexican; they still do amalgam fillings, too, but this feels Cuban to me.”
“Better take the dental impression then, in case he turns out to be Mexican.”
“If you say so,” the doctor said wearily.
“Tell you what, forget the dental impression, but if we have to exhume him later to get it, you do the digging. Deal?”
“I’ll take the impression.”
“Thank you, Doctor,” Holly said. “I’ll get back and run the prints.”
“Let me know what you come up with,” the ME said. “I always like to match what you find against what I guess.”
“What kind of a record do you have, guessing?” she asked.
“Pretty damned good,” he said, grinning.
Later, at her desk, Holly shook the locket out of the evidence bag and looked at the photograph inside again. “Well, sweetheart, you won’t be seeing him again, and you’ll always wonder why.” Then she looked at the car keys among the effects. She pressed a button on the phone. “Hurd?”
“Yes, Chief?”
“Got a minute?”
“Sure, be right there.” He stood in her doorway a moment later.
She tossed him the car keys. “Track down somebody at Daimler-Chrysler and see if the number on the ignition key will tell us what kind of car it was and give us the VIN number.”
“Sure thing,” Hurd said.
“And don’t forget to log your possession of the keys on the chain-of-evidence form.”
“Right. Something I’d like to talk to you about later, if you have the time.”
“Talk about it now, if you like.”
“This is more important,” Hurd said. “Want me to run any prints?”
She handed him the card. “Almost forgot.”
Hurd went back to his own office, and Holly wondered what she’d do without him.
20
Holly was about to go to lunch when Ed Shine called. “How are you, young lady?”
“Very well, Ed, and you?”
“I could hardly be better; sold another house, and my ad in the law enforcement journal you recommended has produced a prospect.”
“I’d be happy to talk to him for you,” she
said, remembering her promise.
