Rarities Unlimited 04 - The Color of Death

autopsies yet, but from thebeer cans piled around, it looks like the Purcells took on a load of brew and passed out in bed. No sign of struggle. The wife’s eyes were covered with tape, but not Purcell’s.”
    “He was the target,” Sizemore said. “Guy didn’t care if Purcell saw him. Dead men don’t give descriptions.”
    Kennedy put out his cigarette. “That’s our thinking too. From the evidence of trauma to the victim’s genitals, we assume he was tortured before he died. Either that or his wife was into really kinky sex.”
    Someone laughed.
    “Was there a safe?” someone asked.
    “Just locked specimen cabinets,” Sizemore said. “The murderer opened them with a master key.”
    Smiles went around the room. “Master key” was cop slang for a crowbar.
    “So there was no reason to torture the victim?” Sam asked. “Nothing to gain by getting a bigger haul?”
    “The murderer was a South American thug sending a message,” Sizemore said. “When he was finished, he slit Purcell’s throat, reached in, and pulled down his tongue so that it came through the opening.”
    “Colombian necktie,” Mario said. “Haven’t seen one of those in a while. Nowadays they mostly just cut the genitals off and stuff them in the victim’s mouth.”
    “Ah, progress,” Sam muttered. “Ain’t it grand?”
    “All the evidence we have now points to the idea that Mr. Purcell pissed off some South Americans,” Kennedy said, “and they made an example of him.”
    “What about the wife?” Sharon asked. “What killed her?”
    Kennedy flipped to the next page. “Bad sinuses. She suffocated before she was found.”
    “Yikes.” Sharon grimaced. “Well, it was probably better than waking up in a blood-soaked bed and seeing her husband’s tongue sticking out of his throat.”
    Kennedy smiled slightly. “If I ever see her in heaven, I’ll ask. But the murderer bled Purcell out pretty well before he cut histhroat, so the place wasn’t wallpapered with blood and neither was the perp.”
    Sam nodded to himself. A pro wouldn’t get so messy he’d stand out on the street.
    “As for the wife,” Kennedy said, “there was no rape, no skin under her fingernails or her husband’s, nothing indicating a defensive struggle of any kind. From blood traces in the kitchen sink, we’re assuming he washed off there before he left.”
    “Did Purcell have an inventory of his stones?” Sam asked.
    “If it was in the trailer, it’s gone,” Kennedy said. “After the perp did the magic trick with Purcell’s tongue, he ransacked the place. Even trashed the stuff in the refrigerator. Only one set of tracks in the mess. Guy wears a size ten shoe and had on clean room boots over them.”
    “Did any wear pattern show through the paper boots?” Sam asked.
    Doug shook his head. “Shoes were new. We’re trying to match treads now, but the boots are making it hard.”
    “Well,” Sizemore said, “he sure didn’t leave much for us.”
    “We’re going over the motor home for hair and fiber,” Kennedy said. “Since Purcell used the place to meet clients and other traders, we aren’t pinning our hopes on making the case that way.”
    Nobody argued. Lab work was very useful in convicting people, but it wasn’t much good at helping cops to make up a list of suspects. Having DNA was one thing. Matching it to a perp was another thing entirely.
    “Who found the bodies?” Sam asked.
    “Some local dealer who was coming to see if Purcell felt like swapping some inventory,” Kennedy said.
    “What kind of inventory?” Sam asked.
    “Gems, what else?” Sizemore said sarcastically. “Where you been, boy.”
    “Most of these dealers specialize,” Sam said to Kennedy. “Did Purcell?”
    “That will be your job,” Kennedy said with a cold smile. “Findout everyone who was Purcell’s client and interview them. Divide it up with Mario. You’re homeboys, so you handle the local media. The rest of us will stumble along on the main job without you two.”
    Several of the cops shifted uncomfortably. Everyone in the room had enough experience to know that the chances of a quick solution to a professional hit were very small.
    Kennedy had just selected Sam and Mario to take the fall when the case wasn’t solved in time for the six o’clock news.

Chapter 26
    Royale parking lot
    Noon Thursday
    Sam had more experience with the media than Mario. When the on-scene director called for yet another makeup break, Sam didn’t