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“But the blood is bovine,” I said

“It’s a steak knife He ate a steak”

“Yep It gets worse”

“Hang on” Rich dued it down “Okay Hit me”

“There’s no blood or tissue in the bathtub, and the hair we sent out can that anyone tried to cover up the blood No bleach”

“Great,”“What is this? The perfect crime?”

“There’s more and worse There’s no trace of blood in or on Malcolm’s vehicle, no hairs consistent with Michael’s”

“So I rong about the truck You should have bet ht — on me”

I grinned and said, “You would have showered first, I suppose”

Butto have to call the Campions and tell them that we still had no physical evidence, and that Junie Moon had recanted her confession and we’d had to kick Ricky Malcolm

“You want to call Malcolm and tell him he can have his truck back?”

Rich picked up his phone, called Malcolot no answer

We took a drive out to the crime lab at Hunter’s Point Naval Yard, opened all the car s on the way, and let the wind air out ned a release for the truck, and after three more unanswered calls to Ricky Malcolm, we drove to his apartment

Rich yelled, “Police,” and knocked loudly on Malcolm’s door until a small Chinese man came out from the restaurant downstairs

He shouted up to us, “Mr Malcolone He paid his rent and leave on motorcycle You want to see mess upstairs?”