“When did you get here?”
“I ain’t been here ten minutes. Son of a bitch didn’t even give me a chance to look at the bin before he’s in my face.”
“You’re going to look at it now. I don’t want any trouble from you,” she said to Remke.
“I want to file a complaint.” He folded his arms, and curled his lip when Eve helped Poole up.
“They dump all kinda shit in here,” Poole began. “That’s the problem, see? They don’t use the proper slots. If you dump organic in the nonorganic side, it stinks up the whole business.”
He limped to the bin, then took his time strapping on his filter mask. “All they gotta do is follow directions, but no, they’d rather complain every five fricking minutes.”
“How’s the lock work?”
“Got a code. See they rent it from the city, and the city keeps the codes. My scanner reads the code, then . . . Crap, this one’s busted.”
“I told you it was busted.”
With some dignity, Poole straightened, and stared at Remke with his blackened eyes. “The lock and seal’s busted. Kids do that sometimes. It ain’t my damn fault. Who the hell knows why kids do the shit they do? Probably busted it last night, dumped some dead cat inside from the smell of it.”
“I’m not paying because your locks are defective,” Remke began.
“Mr. Remke,” Eve warned. “Save it. It’s unlocked, unsealed?” she asked Poole.
“Yeah. Now I’m gonna have to call a crew down here for cleanup. Damn kids.” He started to pry up the lid, but Eve slapped a hand down on his.
“Would you step back, please. Peabody?”
The smell was already making her queasy, but Peabody knew it was about to get worse. “Wish I hadn’t had that egg pocket on the way here.”
Eve got a grip on the lid, shook her head at her aide. “You eat that crap? What’s wrong with you?”
“They’re pretty good, really. And it’s a quick fix.” She sucked in a breath, held it. Nodded. Together they pushed up the heavy lid.
The stench of death poured out.
She’d been crammed into the organic side of the bin. Only half her face showed. Eve could see her eyes had been green
—a sharp, bottle green. And she’d been young, probably pretty.
Death, spurred on by the heat, had bloated her obscenely.
“What the hell did they put in there?” Poole pushed up, looked inside. Then immediately stumbled away to retch.
“Call it in, Peabody. Nadine’s on her way. She got hung up in traffic, or she’d be here by now. I want you to keep her and her camera back. She’ll give you lip, but you keep this block clear.”
“Somebody’s in there.” All the anger had drained from Remke’s face. He simply stared at Eve with horrified eyes. “A person.”
“I’m going to need you to go inside, Mr. Remke. All of you. I’ll be in to speak with you shortly.”
“I’ll look.” He had to clear his throat. “I might—if it’s someone from the neighborhood, I might know . . . If it’ll help, I’ll look.”
“It’s hard,” she told him, but gestured him over.
His face was pale, but he stepped up. He kept his eyes closed for a moment, then set his teeth, opened them. Even the faint hint of color drained out of his cheeks.
“Rachel.” He fought not to gag, and stumbled back. “Oh God. Oh God. It’s Rachel—I don’t know her last name. She, Jesus, Jesus, she worked at the 24/7 across the street. She was a kid.” Tears began to track down his white face, and he turned away to cover it. “Twenty, twenty-one, tops. College student. She was always studying.”
“Go inside, Mr. Remke. I’ll take care of her now.”