and me as "dangerous vigilantes no better than the monsters you murdered." Some people are never happy.
I kept four of the letters with the intention of sending thank-you notes and dumped the others. After thinking about it, I pulled Anselmo's letter from the trash and put it into a file I kept for death threats and lunatics. If someone murdered me in my sleep I wanted the cops to have clues.
I poured a cup of coffee and felt disappointed that nothing had led back to the dead man. It was possible he had written me and I had tossed his letter, but I could never know that. He could have called when my machine was turned off, but I would never know that, either.
I was trying to figure out a new avenue of detection when the phone rang.
"Elvis Cole Detective Agency. Back on your case, and just in time."
"It's me, Diaz. You at your office, or is this call being forwarded? I already tried your house."
"I'm at the office. Did you get an ID?"
"I'm sorry, we didn't. I thought for sure this dude would be in the system, but he's not. The coroner investigator ran him through the Live Scan as soon as they got to the morgue, but nothing came up."
The Live Scan was an inkless fingerprinting process that digitized fingerprints, and instantly compared them with files at the California Department of Justice in Sacramento. If nothing came up, then he had never served time or been arrested in California.
"Okay. What happens next?"
" Sacramento will roll the prints through NLETS. We still have a shot with the Feds, but it could take a few days. You said you got a lot of mail and calls you didn't answer-"
"I came in to check, Diaz. There's nothing. He could have sent something earlier, but I don't have anything now. I just went through the mail."
"I hate to ask this but I'm going to ask anyway. I'm going over to the morgue. Would you meet me there?"
"I thought Pardy had the case."
"Pardy does, and he's back from the medical examiner. He says the deceased is totally covered with these insane tattoos. I know you didn't recognize him, but maybe something in the ink will ring a bell."
I felt a little dig of anger, but maybe it was shame.
"He's not my father. There's no way."
"Just come look, Cole. One of his tats might give you a name or a place. What can it hurt?"
I didn't say anything, and Diaz pushed on.
"You know where the coroner is, down by the USC Medical Center?"
"I know."
"They have a parking lot in front. I'll meet you there in half an hour."
I put down the phone, then went into the bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror. The dead man had a head like a praying mantis and I had a head like a rutabaga. I didn't look anything like him. Nothing like him. Nothing.
I went down to my car and made my way to the morgue.
4
Invisible Men
Frederick Conrad, which was the name he now used, hustled through the trailer park toward his truck when Juanita Morse lurched from her double-wide like a brown recluse spider springing a trap.
" Frederick!"
She hooked his arm with a dried-out crone's hand, trapping him even though he was frantic to leave.
" Frederick, you were so nice last week when I was down with my legs, bringing my groceries like you did. Here, this is for you, a little something."
Frederick fell into character without missing a beat, hiding his fury with the lopsided Frederick Conrad grin everyone knew so well. He pressed the dollar back into her hands.
"Please, Juanita. You know better than that."
"Now you go on, Frederick, you were so nice to see after me like that."
So Frederick took the dollar, feigning appreciation, his furious rage arcing like downed power cables while his eyes remained calm. He wanted Payne to come home. He needed to find out what happened. He was terrified that Payne had confessed.
That traitorous prick, Payne. (Payne Keller being the name he now used.)
"You really don't have to, Miz Morse, but thank you. Is your leg better?"
"It still burns, but at least I'm not down. I put the heating pad on this morning and took the Tylenol."
Frederick patted her hand as if he gave a shit about every burning pulse in her withered body.
"Well, if you need anything else, you let me know."
Pat-pat. Smile. You hideous hag.
Finally rid of her, Frederick hurried to his truck, wanting to crush