ago a homicide detective was found dead in his home. It was supposed to be suicide but something was wrong. They’ve ruled it a homicide. Looks like the Poet made a mistake.”
“Phoenix?”
“Yes, the freshest trail.” He looked at his watch. “And we have to hurry. He’s to be buried in four hours and I want to have a look at the body first.”
25
Two government cars and four agents from the field office met us after the jet landed at Sky Harbor International in Phoenix. It was a warm day, compared to where we had come from, and we took our jackets off and carried them with our computer bags and overnighters. Thompson also carried a toolbox which contained his equipment. I rode with Walling and two agents named Matuzak and Mize, white guys who looked like they had less than ten years’ experience combined. It was clear by their deferential treatment of Walling that they held the BSS unit in high esteem. They had either been briefed on the fact that I was a reporter or judged by my beard and hair that I was not an agent despite the FBI seal on my shirt. They paid little attention to me.
“Where are we going?” Walling asked as our gray nondescript Ford followed the gray nondescript Ford carrying Backus and Thompson out of the airport.
“Scottsdale Funeral Home,” Mize said. He was in the front passenger seat while Matuzak drove. He looked at his watch. “Funeral is at two. Your man is probably going to have less than a half hour with the body before they’ll have to suit him up and put him in the box for the show.”
“Was it open casket?”
“Yeah, last night,” Matuzak said. “He’s already been embalmed and made up. I don’t know what you’re expecting.”
“We’re not expecting anything. We just want to look. I assume Agent Backus is being briefed up ahead of us. Do you two care to fill us in?”
“That’s Robert Backus?” Mize said. “He looks so young.”
“Robert Backus Junior.”
“Oh.” Mize made a face that seemed to show that he understood why such a young man was running the show. “Figures.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Rachel said. “He’s got the name but he’s also the hardest-working and most thorough agent I’ve ever worked with. He earned the position he has. It probably would have been easier for him, in fact, if he had a name like Mize. Now can one of you fill us in on what’s going on?”
I saw Matuzak study her in the mirror. He then looked over at me and Rachel registered this.
“He’s fine,” she said. “He’s got approval from the top to be here. He knows everything we do. You have a problem with that?”
“Not if you don’t,” Matuzak said. “John, you tell it.”
Mize cleared his throat.
“Not a lot to fill in. We don’t have a lot because we weren’t invited in. But what we do know is they found this guy, name’s William Orsulak, they found him in his house on Monday. Homicide cop. They figured he’d been dead at least three days. He was off Friday ’cause of comp time and the last time anybody remembered seeing him was Thursday night at a bar they all go to.”
“Who found him?”
“Somebody from the squad when he didn’t show Monday. He was divorced, lived alone. Anyway, they apparently spent all week on the fence. You know, suicide or murder? Eventually, they went with murder. That was yesterday. Apparently there were too many problems with the suicide.”
“What do you know about the scene?”
“I hate to tell you this Agent Walling, but you’d learn just as much as me by picking up one of the local papers. Like I said, Phoenix police didn’t invite us to the dance so we don’t know what they have. After we got the wire from Quantico this morning, Jamie Fox, he’s up in the lead car with Agent Backus, took a look at it while working a little OT doing paperwork. It seemed to fit with what you people were working on and he made the call. Then me and Bob got called out, but like I said, we don’t know what’s what for sure.”
“Fine.” She sounded put out. I knew she wanted to be up in the lead car. “I’m sure we’ll get it at the funeral home. What about the locals?”
“They’re meeting us.”
We parked in the back of the Scottsdale Funeral Home on Camelback Road. The lot was already crowded, though the funeral