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Four hours went by, and after turning over every stinking thing in Malcolhed his disappointment

“There’s no weapon here”

“Okay, then,” I said “I guess we’re done”

We stepped out into the street as the flatbed truck pulled up to the curb CSIs hooked up Malcolm’s ’97 Ford pickup, and we stood by as the truck rattled noisily up the hill on the way to the crime lab McNeil and Chi took off in their squad car, and Conklin and I got into ours

Conklin said, “I’ll bet you a hundred bucks, or dinner — your choice, Lindsay —”

I laughed at his girl-net smile

“I’ll bet you Michael Campion’s DNA is somewhere inside the bed of that truck”

“I don’t want to bet,” I said “I want you to be right”

Chapter 11

JUNIE MOON’S PAINTED LADY looked tired and dull that afternoon as the sky darkened and a fine rain swept the city Conklin lifted up the cri across Junie’s front door and I ducked under it, signed the log, and entered the sa prostitute late the night before

This time we had a search warrant

The sound of ha into ceramic tile led us to the bathroo up the floors and walls in order to get to the bathtub plu in the hallway outside the bathroo one of his two dozen nearly identical herringbone jackets, his salt-and-pepper hair was neatly combed, and his lined face was somber

“Curb your expectations, Lindsay There’s enough splooge in this whorehouse to tie up the lab for a year”

“We just need one hair,” I said “One drop of Michael Campion’s blood”

“And I’d like to see Venice before it sinks into the sea And as long as we’re wishing on stars here, I’ for a Rolls Silver Cloud”