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“It’s not nice to bring that up. I saw you squinting at your computer screen the other day. Don’t worry. I don’t mind putting you out of your misery too. I wouldn’t want you to be old and falling apart all by yourself.”
“That’s very thoughtful of you.”
“I’m a giver,” I agreed.
I took Leon’s fingerprints and transferred them to the cards so Jack could scan them into the computer to see if we could get a hit on prints. A man that had lived to be almost a hundred had to have an interesting past. I was curious to know where he’d come from and what had brought him here.
“I’m going to give Ben a call and see if he can run things on that end so we can get some answers before our flight leaves next week. Camille wasn’t kidding. This connection is slow.”
I’d already documented all the marks on the body and checked for head wounds or any other injuries that might have been related to time of death. But Leon was clean except for the stab wound to the heart and the scrapes he’d received when he’d fallen to the ground.
Though seeing the lateral incision on his chest made it clear as to why the dagger had entered through the breastplate so easily. Between the brittle bones of age and the fact that he’d already been opened up before, the killing blow wouldn’t have needed near as much strength behind it as we’d originally thought.
“You think the killer knew he’d had the surgery?” I asked.
“Probably. Joe said everyone knows everyone else’s business, though Leon would’ve had to go to the mainland for surgery. Someone who knew him killed him for a reason. And it was up close and personal. They were pissed. So digging into Leon Stein’s life is our best hope for finding out who did this to him.
Jack dialed Ben Carver and then put the phone on speaker. Ben was a good friend of Jack’s and had worked for the FBI for a number of years. No one was really sure what Ben did for the FBI, but we’d learned over the course of a few investigations that he had top level security clearance and pretty much had autonomy when it came to investigations. He was also a genius with computers and had an unnatural relationship with a laptop he’d named Miranda.
A couple of weeks back Carver had been in a car accident with Jack and I when a killer had tried to run us off the road. Carver had been knocked unconscious and Miranda hadn’t survived the crash. But the first thing Carver had done once he’d been released from the hospital was buy Miranda a new body and get her up and running again.
“Agent Carver,” Ben said when he answered the phone.
“That’s very formal of you, Agent Carver.”
“That’s because I’m still mad at you. You and Doctor Death are nothing but trouble. And I also think my wife might be pregnant again. I’m thirty-six years old. I don’t remember condoms being so difficult to use when I was younger.”
“TMI, Carver,” I called out. “You do know what causes pregnancy, don’t you?”
His sigh was audible and pitiful and I stifled a laugh. “I thought I did, but now I’m not so sure. All I know is that my wife is making me sleep on the couch until I figure it out. I’m cool with that though. We have a toddler and an infant. There’s no room for me in the bed anyway. See what you guys have to look forward too?”
“Yes. Except we know how babies are made. Jaye is a doctor after all.”
“I’m assuming there’s a reason why you’re calling me on your honeymoon instead of doing baby-making test runs?”
“We’ve got a crime scene we need your help with. We don’t have a useable lab down here and our connection to the outside world is precarious at best. We need somebody who can do things quickly and efficiently while we feed the information.”
There was a long moment of silence and I wondered if we’d lost the connection. “Do I want to know why you’re working a crime scene on your honeymoon?”
“Probably not. The details are boring. But we’re here and they wanted our help.”
“So of course you volunteered and then decided to drag me into another one of your ridiculous cases where I end up dodging bullets or getting a concussion like the last few times I’ve worked with you. You know you guys aren’t normal, right?”
“Normal is boring.”
“That’s very true. But I’d like you to know that my wife said I’m not allowed to play with you guys anymore. You’re too dangerous and you get me into trouble.”
“You’re wife is making you sleep on the couch,” Jack said. “She’s probably upped your life insurance without you knowing it.”
“Good point. I was wondering why she was trying to get a blood sample the other day. And lucky for you Miranda is back up to speed. She’s had a rough couple of weeks after the car wreck. Haven’t you, darling?”
“Talk about not normal,” I said.
“Fill me in on what you need from me,” Carver said.
“Our vic is a man a week shy of his hundredth birthday by the name of Leon Stein. Someone stabbed him in the heart with a very cool looking dagger. I’ve just loaded his prints into the database. I need everything you can dig up on this man.”
We could hear the clatter of keys over the line as Ben worked his magic. “Seems kind of a bummer to kill him before the big centennial like that. You’d think they could’ve waited a week.”
