Seven ways to die

26

The first person he called was Jimmy Farrell. He deserved that. Annie was doing her thing, working the crime scene, which meant working in the Frigidaire-tiptoeing around the eggs, stepping over the leftover potato salad, looking for needles among the ice cubes. Hue was directing traffic, keeping everybody in the right square on the chessboard, waiting patiently for things to go a little haywire, which they usually did. Rizzo was standing by-waiting to catch the leftovers and no complaints. The crew had one thing in common: The rush.

Ricky had the nastiest job of all. He had to tell his godmother that her husband of fifty years was never coming home again. Not that he was naked in the freezer, not that some nut job had killed him for reasons her imagination would never comprehend. For now, he was just dead. And she would know that the minute Farrell walked in the door. Before he said a word, she would know. Women know those kinds of things.?

“He’s dead, Jimmy, and it’s not pretty,” Cody told Farrell.

“Oh Christ.” He paused and Cody could hear him swallowing. “Aw, Jesus, Micah, what happened?”

“Charley led me to him. He was in the freezer. Been in there-I’m guessing-four or five hours.”

“I told him he had to put a two way opener on that goddamned thing. I warned…”

“It wasn’t an accident.”

Farrell did not immediately answer. His hung over brain was slow processing the information.

“He’s stark naked, sitting on a chair.”

“Whaaat? Maybe he, uh, maybe…”

“It wasn’t robbery or suicide, his clothes aren’t here. But it may tie in with something we’re working on.”

“You mean some sicko…”

“That’s a substantial guess, Jimmy.”

“The kid’ll be here in about five minutes.”

“We need to get a statement from him. He’s the last one to see Tony alive. He doesn’t have to see him now, I think it best to wait until after the autopsy. Maybe late this afternoon. But you’re gonna have to tell Mama Crosetti so maybe you could come to the rear door and take a look.”

“Of course. Sure.”

Annie was shooting pictures when Farrell tapped on the door. He stood in the doorway for a full minute or so and then turned his back on the corpse.

“I been a cop for thirty goddamned years and I’ve never, ever seen anything like that before. I thought maybe he had a heart attack or fell down the stairs to the wine cellar or something. Christ, what’ll I tell Ricky? Shit, what’ll I tell Mama?”

“You can buy us both some time. Tell them he doesn’t have a mark on him and we won’t know exactly what killed him until after the autopsy. It’s not a lie.”

“What if Ricky wants to see him?”

“It’s just grotesque, the way he’s…positioned. Distract Ricky. Tell him we need to talk to him in Rizzo’s car down by the dumpster. Make him comfortable. Go with him. Make sure he understands he’s not a suspect, that we need his help.”

“Yeah, that’s good. That’ll work.”

Farrell returned to his car and Cody joined Annie who was shooting a picture of Tony’s feet. She was using her kit to prop open the door of the freezer.

“We have some impressions here in the frost in front of the corpse,” she said.

“Sole prints?”

“No. My guess is surgeon’s booties.”

“Like on Handley’s carpet?”

“Uh huh.” She handed the camera to Cody and leaned closer, took a pair of tweezers and a small test tube from her kit and plucked a small fiber from the side of the one of the impressions and put it in the tube. She held it up so they both could get a better look.

“Light blue. Probably cotton. You’re right, the killer was suited out, just like at Handley’s. Roughly the same size feet. So far no fibers, no semen, no prints, and I’m guessing the only DNA will be Crosetti’s.”

“Why is he naked?”

“My guess? Make him freeze faster.”

“And the clothes?”

“Killer wasn’t taking any chances. Maybe something incriminating on them. Notice that brown stain on the corner of his mouth? Some food particles in his hair and on his chin. I’m guessing maybe something he ate and some of that wine. Maybe he threw up. There are some abrasions on the back of his throat but I couldn’t pry his jaws apart to get a good look.”

“How long will it take to thaw him out?”

She shrugged. “He’s frozen solid, Cap. We’ll have to move him out as he is. We try to straighten arms or legs out, they’ll break like twigs. When we get him back to the lab maybe we can speed things up with a heated blanket or a portable heater. Wolf’ll know. I’ve never had one quite like this.”

“D eja vu. We had to take Handley out in the sitting position.”

“And naked.”

“Yeah. And they probably both died about the same time of night.”

“He was undressed before he was put in here and he didn’t put up a fight. Except for those bootie prints there’s nothing on the floor. No signs of a struggle.”

“I think I can answer that for you. You finished here?”

“Yeah. I’ve got all the pictures I need. Gotta bag that wine bottle and glass. I also picked up some brownish-red fibers in front of the freezer door.”

Cody looked around. “Where’s Charley?”

“He was here a minute ago.”

“Charley?” Cody called. He heard a low “ruff” from the hallway leading away from the kitchen. They followed him around a corner and the dog was sniffing at a door. It led to the private dining room. When they opened it, Charley walked straight to the head of the table, sniffed around. All the chairs were in place except one.

“That chair Crosetti’s sitting on came from the head of this table,” Cody said. “Charley’s picked up another scent.”

Charley left the room, his nose leading them down the hallway toward the main dining room. He sniffed at the door to the men’s room, kept going and then stopped at the entrance of the women’s rest room. He scratched at the door.

Rothschild reached under her arm and drew her. 38 as Cody opened the door. She looked through the crack in the door, then shoved it open and flicked on the lights. She knelt down, looking to right, left, and under the three stalls to their left. Charley walked to the third stall, nosed it open and went in.

“Room’s clear,” Rothschild said as Cody followed the dog to the stall. He was sniffing the toilet seat, then he turned to the wall of the stall and gave it the once over and looked at Cody.

“Good boy, keep going,” Cody said.

They followed Charley out of the rest room and down the hall to the main dining room. He stopped, sniffing at the corner of the hall, then walked straight across the room to Tony’s office, went in, sniffed the edge of the Oriental rug and sat down. Cody laughed.

“Son of a gun,” he said. “Still the best nose in the business.”

Cody and Rothschild followed him into the office and Cody petted Charley, roughing up his ears.

“You’re beautiful, boy. Good job, Charley. Good job.” He looked at Annie and smiled. “He just showed us how the killer got in here. He tracked the perp backwards. First, from the office to the freezer. Then he picked up the perp’s scent, probably from the chair or fresh prints to the private dining room and from there to the rest room. Our killer was standing on the seat in the lady’s room waiting for the coast to be clear so he could go about his dirty work on Tony.”

Cody activated his headset.

“Hue?”

“Yes sir.”

“Send the van now. Who’s driving?”

“Bergman.”

“Tell him to take it easy, don’t attract attention. Take Grand to Mott and come down to the parking lot and come to the back door of the Venezia. Bring Si with him.”

“Gotcha.”

“Annie is coming back with the package. Tell Si he’s gonna take over the grid. How about Bergman?”

“He should be in the lot about now.”

“Tell him to wait until the van leaves, then I want him and Kate to enter through the rear entrance.”

“Copy that.”

“How about Rizzo. How’s the interrogation going with Ricky?”

“They got him calmed down. He was pretty frazzled when they started.”

“Tell Frank I’ll be joining them after the van splits.”

“Right.”

Cody signed off and looked at Annie who was checking the messy dinner plate and the spot of food on the rug. She ran her fingertips over the surface of the rug.

“Follow me,” Cody said. Annie and Charley followed Cody to the door to the kitchen. Charley followed his original path to the freezer and sat down.

“Check these out,” Cody said, squatting down and pointing to the fibers in the tile grout.

“I get the message,” she said. “Looks like Mister Crosetti passed out-or was kayoed-and fell forward into his dinner. Then the killer wrapped him in the rug and dragged him back to the freezer.”

Cody nodded. “Then brought the rug back to the office. There are no bruises on Tony’s skull, are there?”

Annie shook her head. “The bottle of wine and the glass in the freezer may provide the answer to that.”

“The question is, how did the perp get in the restaurant and when? Ricky can help us there.”

“And why? Uncle Tony doesn’t look like the type to be hanging out at sex clubs.”

“I think that’s a safe assumption. It certainly opens the door wide for motive.”

“Well, Charley just earned himself a big, fat marrow bone dinner.”

“At the very least,” Cody answered with a smile.