Murder 101. Faye Kellerman

nosy neighbors in this town. Someone must have parted their blinds.”

      “The problem is that the apartment is mostly student rented even though it’s off-campus. It’s a noisy environment—lots of parties with music blasting all the time.”

      Decker was still dubious, but he kept it to himself. He didn’t know how the captain would react to being challenged. “This is a huge mess. Do we have tech people who know forensics?”

      “We’re working on that as well.” Mike was troubled. “I want to do justice to this girl, Pete. No one wants this screwed up.”

      “We all want the same thing.” Decker stared down at the heap that once was a human being. She was already deep in a state of decomposition. “How were you notified? Did someone complain about the smell?”

      “Yep.”

      “Who opened the windows?”

      “I did. It must have been a hundred degrees inside when I got here.”

      “Okay.” Decker paused. “Someone cranked up the heat to help the body rot. Did you happen to notice the exact temperature before you opened the windows? If you take into consideration the stage of decomposition and the temperature, it might give us an idea of when she was murdered.”

      Mike looked pained. “No, I didn’t. This is what I mean by screwing things up. Can I be frank with you?”

      “Always.”

      “I can work a homicide. Ben can work a homicide. Kevin can work a homicide. But none of us has done it in years. I’m thinking about calling in reinforcements.”

      “Up to you.”

      “But then I start thinking, this is my town. I don’t want hotshots walking all over us and telling me how to handle my people. You, on the other hand, are fresh from the trenches. So if you’re up to leading, I think we should give it a go. What do you think?”

      “If this were LAPD, I’d say no problem. I could do the whole thing solo. But I am new here … neighbors don’t know me well … and we’re not exactly high tech.” Decker shrugged. “Give me twenty-four to forty-eight hours to feel everything out and I’ll let you know.”

      “Fair enough.”

      “Right now, we need a police photographer.”

      “Jenny photographed every inch of the body that we can see. Like I said, we haven’t moved her.”

      “Just make sure that we have doubles and triples of everything and from every angle. It might help us down the line. How long do you think it’ll be before someone from the coroner’s office gets here, Mike?”

      “No idea. We’re in New York so it should be them. But we’re closer to Boston. I called both cities. Let’s see who shows up. And I also called CSI and Forensics. If you can think of anything else, I’m listening. Want me to close the windows?”

      “No. Keep them open. It’ll slow down the decay.” Decker thought a moment. “She was a student at Littleton—that’s the fine arts college, right?”

      “Yes, it is: arts, theater, and acting. You’re thinking about a connection to the cemetery theft?”

      “Someone was making phony stained glass. Even if it has nothing to do with the theft, we need to get a team out there to start questioning friends, teachers … her classmates. Find out more about who Angeline Moreau was.”