"The stiff's not going anywhere, and neither are we." He sounded discouraged.
"Cheer up, Dolph, I may have found a clue."
"Talk."
"Veronica Sims recognized the name Cal Rupert. Description matches."
"What are you doing talking to a private detective?" He sounded suspicious.
"She's my workout partner, and since she just gave us our first clue, I'd sound a little more grateful, if I were you."
"Yeah, yeah. Hurrah for the private sector. Now talk."
"A Cal Rupert was a member of HAV about two months ago. The description matches."
"Revenge killings?" he asked.
"Maybe."
"Half of me hopes it's a pattern. At least we'd have some place to start looking." He made a sound between a laugh and a snort. "I'll tell Zerbrowski you found a clue. He'll like that."
"All us Dick Tracy Crimebusters speak police lingo," I said.
"Police lingo?" I could feel the grin over the phone. "You find any more clues, you let us know."
"Aye, aye, Sergeant."
"Can the sarcasm," he said.
"Please, I always use fresh sarcasm, never canned."
He groaned. "Just get your butt out here so we can all go home." The phone went dead. I hung up.
Richard Zeeman answered on the second ring. "Hello."
"It's Anita."
"What's up?"
"The message was from the police. They need my expertise."
"A preternatural crime?" he asked.
"Yeah."
"Is it dangerous?"
"To the person who was killed, yeah."
"You know that's not what I meant," he said.
"It's my job, Richard. If you can't deal with it, maybe we shouldn't date at all."
"Hey, don't get defensive. I just wanted to know if you would be in any personal danger." His voice was indignant.
"Fine. I've got to go."
"What about the costumes? Do you want me call my friend?"