middle of a Category 4 hurricane, caught Nelson in the den, whacked him in the head, dragged his body outside, tried to clean up the blood, and then ran off. Seriously?”
“Stranger things have happened,” Nick said. “Actually, it was the perfect time to kill somebody and make it look accidental.”
“I like it,” Bob said. “But where’s the blood on the floor?”
They looked at their feet. All six were on a wet and stained rug. Nick said, “It’s too dark in here to see anything, but what if, and, again, just indulge me, but what if we’re standing in the middle of a crime scene?”
Bob said, “I didn’t do it, I swear.”
Bruce said, “Let’s take a closer look at his head.”
They studied each other’s eyes for a second, then tiptoed back to the patio. Nick took the lead and inched closer to the corpse. He lifted a towel and leaned down. The bloody gash above Nelson’s left ear was sickening and, to their untrained eyes, certainly looked ghastly enough to cause death. Using the towel and being careful not to touch him with his fingers, Nick tried to lift Nelson’s head, but his neck was already stiff.
Nick stood and said, “Okay, here’s what I think we should do. Let’s roll the body off and let it land on the deck. We need to see his face and the other side of his head.”
Bruce said, “Not so sure about that. The cops have seen him and they’ll know we messed with the corpse.”
Bob said, “I agree. I ain’t touching him.”
Nick said, “Okay, then we can put him back to where he is right now. But we need to see everything.”
“Why?” Bruce asked. “What’s your theory?”
“The killer hit him once inside and knocked him out, then dragged him out here and whacked him again, probably more than once, to finish him off.”
“In the middle of the storm?” Bruce asked. “With rain coming down in sheets?”
“Exactly. The killer wasn’t worried about getting wet. Don’t you see? It was the perfect time to kill him.”
“With what?” Bob asked.
“Exactly! With something the killer found in the apartment. He didn’t show up at the door with a gun or a knife. He got inside, maybe it was someone Nelson knew but sure as hell didn’t know what he wanted, and he let him in because he was roaming around in a Cat 4. The guy grabbed a fire poker or a baseball bat or something he probably knew was in the apartment, and used it.”
“You’ve read too many crime novels,” Bob said.
“You’ve already used that line,” Nick replied.
They stood still and gawked at poor Nelson. Bruce retreated to the shade and returned to his chair. Nick and Bob slowly did the same. The sun was bearing down, the temperature getting hotter. Around them the rescue was coming to life as more choppers buzzed about and more chain saws were heard in the distance.
It had been an hour since the cops left.
2.
Nick stood and without a word walked to the corpse, pulled off the towels, grabbed Nelson by his legs, and rolled him off the brick wall. He landed on the patio, faceup. Bruce and Bob hurried over for a look.
His right eye was swollen shut and there was another gash above it. “Just what I suspected,” Nick mumbled to himself. “Would you please get me the flashlight?”
Bruce found it on the kitchen table and brought it outside. Nick took it and knelt low over the head, as if searching for lice. He found a knot on the crown of the skull, hidden by thick hair, and continued his search. When he finished he reclined against the brick wall and said, “Looks like the limb hit him at least three times. Want to explain that?” He was looking at Bruce, who was speechless.
Bob said, “Okay, okay. Now let’s put him back up