Mac chewed on that as he walked back over to the victim and ran his small pen-sized flashlight over the exposed arms of the victim. “Doc, you see any evidence of drug use on the vic?”
“No needle marks that I saw on his arms,” the coroner answered as she pulled off the victim’s socks and examined between the toes. “I don’t see any needle marks between the toes along the feet, so he looks clean. I can tell you for sure once I examine him at the morgue and run a tox screen. However, he doesn’t have the drug user look to him.”
Mac nodded as he looked the victim over. He had an expensive haircut with maybe one or two day’s stylish razor stubble. The victim’s clothes were a little dirty but were quality, Levi’s, nylon Nautica zip-up black pullover, top-of-the-line hiking boots. “Is it me or does this guy not fit the common demographic for clientele here at The Snelling, or at least the clientele that fractures the occasional law while here?”
“You mean, say, a strung out drug addled sex fiend?” Lich asked.
“Yeah, something like that,” Mac answered nodding.
“Then that’s a negative. He looks pretty clean cut for The Snelling.”
“Is Bob even from these parts?” Mac asked.
“No ID. No wallet. No luggage, so who knows?” Lich answered. “Maybe he’s a student from Hamline University who wandered down the street into the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“He’s older than a Hamline student,” Mac answered. “This guy is in his thirties, I’d say.”
“Maybe a law student?” Lich questioned. Hamline had a law school.
“William Mitchell usually would have the law students in their thirties, going to the night school, not Hamline.” Mac answered, a William Mitchell graduate in his own right. He stood up and walked over to the bed where the victim appeared to have been sitting.
“What are you thinking, Mac?” Lich asked.
“Our guy was sitting here on the bed, watching television perhaps, maybe the news.”
“The news? At The Snelling?” Lich replied skeptically. “Porn seems more likely.”
“Speaking from experience,” Mac replied, which drew a one-finger solute response from Lich. “Whatever he was watching, our guy is sitting here, right?”
“Yeah. He hears a knock on the door,” Lich adds. “Thinking his Valeninos’ Deluxe Supreme has arrived.”
“Right, he looks through the peephole and the guy is holding a pizza or at least a pizza box.”
“So he lets the killer in. The killer walks in, puts the pizza box on the table.”
“Bob here is relaxed and perhaps reaches for his wallet. Figuring he’ll pay for the pizza quick and …”
“The killer sees this and jumps him from behind, cuts his throat and leaves with his wallet, watch and apparently anything else our guy came with,” Mac finished as he pulled the pillows up and looked down. Between the mattress and the wall, just under the headboard, he saw a piece of paper. He unfolded it.
“I don’t think Bob is from around here.”
“What do you have?”
“A boarding pass, interestingly enough. Delta flight from St. Louis to Minneapolis dated today. And it’s not for a Bob Smith, but for a Jason Stroudt.”
“Case just got a little more interesting,” Lich said.
“Perhaps,” Mac answered. “I mean, it seems to me it would be pretty unusual for someone to fly up from St. Louis and then come here?”
“Unless he was coming up here to get a little somethin’ somethin’, a girl maybe,” Lich answered. “Or maybe he’s going to make some sort of drug deal.”
“Where is the evidence of that? The coroner says there is no outward evidence of drugs on the victim.”
“Maybe the tox screen will prove otherwise, Mac. Maybe he’s not a user but a dealer meeting a supplier, who knows. Smart drug dealers are ones who don’t use their own product.”
“That’s true. To figure this out we have to start putting this guy’s life together, at least the last few hours of it, to see what’s what,” Mac declared. “Let’s go down and talk to the manager and see if he can give us anything.”
The long-time manager of The Snelling was Tony Seville. Seville was a slight and grungy man whose eyes were constantly shifting left to right. He never looked anyone in the eye, which was advisable given where he worked. Seville was fully aware of the activities that took place at the motel he managed. Vice thought he probably got a little piece of the action from time to time from some of his regular clientele and was