She sat back on her heels, closed her eyes, and imagined it.
“Attack from the front. Maybe, just maybe, a partner moving in from behind to get a grip, hold him still for a few seconds. It only takes a few seconds.
“Did they already have the plastic, already have it worked out, or was it of the moment? Doesn’t matter to you, does it, Barry?” she said, looking down at the young, empty face.
“Roll him onto the sheet, wrap him up because you’re going to transfer him to a vehicle, and you don’t bother with that if you’re going to boost one.”
She straightened up. “No, you had access to a vehicle, and didn’t want to get blood in the back of the truck, the van, in the trunk of the car. You had brains enough for that.”
Calling over a couple of uniforms to help her turn the body, she finished her exam. As she packed up her kit, Strong came back.
“Ms. Jacobs and Ms. Ho are friends, and Jacobs works in the restaurant. So does her teenage son, on weekends. She’d gotten her kids—three—off to school, her husband had already left for work. He’s a medical tech. She heard the screams, ran to the window, saw Ho, saw the body. She said she called out to Ho to go inside, that she was calling the police. Timing jibes.
“She worked last night until ten, but says the rest of the staff—the cleanup—would clock out about eleven. She and her husband went to bed by midnight, and her three kids were home and tucked in.”
Strong looked up at the window, gauged the distance to the body.
“Jacobs thinks she heard some people arguing in the alley and some rattling around, but isn’t sure of the time. She thinks it was around two, but she was half-asleep and can’t say for sure.”
“Okay.”
“I asked her about gang activity. There’s where she got evasive. She made a point of saying how her son—the one who works at the restaurant—is studying to be a doctor. How he’s never been in trouble. Neither have her two girls—ages fourteen and eleven. But there was something.”
“Yeah, there’s something, since she’s friends with and works for Fan Ho’s mother. Let’s see what Peabody’s got.”
They badged through the alley door, started up to the apartment.
“I did a quick run on Jacobs’s son, and he’s clean.”
“It’s going to be the restaurant. That’s the tie-in.”
She rapped on the door. When it opened, she saw the tie-in face-to-face.
She put him early twenties. Strongly built, dark, hard eyes in an action-vid-star’s face. He wore his hair in a single short braid. A red-and-gold dragon tat breathed fire on his right biceps.
“Lieutenant Dallas, Detective Strong.” She held up her badge. “Are you a member of the household?”
“Fan Ho. A lot of cops to talk to a woman, already shaken, about a body in the alley.”
“How about I talk to you instead?”
He shrugged, dismissive. “The other girl cop’s in the kitchen, pushing at my mother and grandparents, who came to be with her. They live across the hall.”
Eve glanced at the facing apartment. “Anyone else over there now?”
“No.”
“Why don’t we move in there? Detective Strong, you can join Detective Peabody, let her know I’m getting Mr. Ho’s statement in his grandparents’ apartment.”
“Yes, sir.” And as she understood the unstated, Strong took out her PPC as she walked back and began the run.
Ho crossed the hall, tapped numbers into a lock pad, opened the door.
Inside, the apartment smelled of herbs and flowers, and held a quiet order and serenity despite its bold colors, shimmers of gold.
Other than the bold, the decor ran to family photos and a collection of statues of the smiling, big-bellied god she recognized as Buddha.
Ho dropped onto a red-and-gold couch, swiped a hand in the air by way of invitation.