Trial by Fury (9780061754715) Read Free Page B

so as you’d notice,” he continued. He tried again. This time it landed in the vase with a satisfying clink. “Surgical scar on his left knee that would be consistent with a sports injury of some kind.”
    â€œNothing else?”
    â€œNothing. Not even dental work. Didn’t have a single filling in his head.”
    â€œGot good checkups, right up until he died.”
    Baker glowered at Peters. “That’s pretty unusual for a man his age.”
    â€œAnd what’s that?” I asked.
    â€œHow old? Oh, thirty-nine, forty. Right around there.”
    â€œAnything else?”
    â€œLast meal must have been about noon. We’re working on stomach contents.”
    â€œDrugs?”
    â€œMorphine, as a matter of fact. Not a lethal dose, but enough to knock him colder than a wedge.”
    â€œA junkie, then?”
    Baker shook his head. “No way. We found only the one puncture, in his buttocks. Very difficult to self-administer, if you ask me. No other needle marks.”
    â€œHow much did he weigh?” I asked, thinking of the driver’s license information in thenotebook I carried in my pocket. I didn’t pull it out and look at it though, for fear of tipping my hand prematurely.
    â€œTwo twenty. Six foot four. Big guy.”
    â€œAnything else?” I asked.
    Baker lobbed another paper clip into the vase. “The killer took his time. Hanging victims don’t come out squeaky clean. This guy was hosed down before somebody wrapped him up in the tarp.”
    â€œAny identification on the tarp?”
    â€œSure, Beau, the tarp had a goddamned serial number on it! What do you think?”
    I shrugged. “It could happen.”
    â€œOne more thing,” Baker added. “We found some flakes in his hair.”
    â€œDandruff?” Peters asked.
    Baker glowered. “Blue flakes. We’re sending them down to the crime lab. It could be from whatever the noose was tied off to.”
    We’d pretty much worn out our welcome with Baker. “Great,” I said, getting up. “Let us know if you find out anything more. We’ll do the same.”
    I led the way. Once outside the building I paused long enough to take the notebook out of my jacket pocket and check my notes. Darwin Ridley’s weight was listed as two ten and his height was listed as six four.
    â€œWell?” Peters asked.
    â€œIt’s possible. Weight is off by ten pounds,but lots of folks fudge on weight by a pound or two.”
    â€œSo what do we do?” Peters glanced at his watch. “We can either go by that address down in Rainier Valley, or we can go back up to Queen Anne and see if any of the residents are home now. Can’t do both. Tracie and Heather have a dental appointment right after work.”
    â€œCavities?” I asked.
    â€œTwo each. No perfect checkups in our family. I’ll need to be on the Evergreen Point Bridge by four-thirty to beat the worst of the rush.”
    By working in Seattle and living on the east side of Lake Washington in Kirkland, Peters seemed to spend the better part of half his life parked on the floating bridges, going in one direction or the other. It was almost three o’clock.
    â€œLet’s go back to Queen Anne and see if we can find out anything more. I can check Ridley out by myself after you leave.”
    Peters scratched his head. “You know, every time you say that name, it seems like it’s one I should recognize, but I just can’t place it.”
    â€œRidley?”
    He nodded. “It’ll come to me eventually.”
    We walked back to the car. Little patches of midafternoon sun had broken through the clouds and rain. It felt almost like spring aswe once more tackled the questioning process on Queen Anne Hill. A few more people were home, but it didn’t do us much good. They hadn’t heard or seen anything unusual, either.
    It was frustrating but certainly not unexpected. I