index."
"I think he ought to come toAtlanta."
"Why? You said yourself the guy down here is good."
"He is good, but not as good as Price."
"What do you want him to do? Where would he look?"
"Mrs. Leeds fingernails and toenails. They're painted, its a slick surface. And the corneas of all their eyes. I think he took his gloves off, Jack."
"Jesus, Price'll have to gun it," Crawford said. "The funeral's this afternoon."
Chapter 3
"I think he had to touch her," Graham said in greeting.
Crawford handed him a Coke from the machine inAtlantapolice headquarters. It was seven-fifty A.M.
"Sure, he moved her around," Crawford said. "There were grip marks on her wrists and behind her knees. But every print in the place is from nonporous gloves. Don't worry, Price is here. Grouchy old bastard. He's on his way to the funeral home now. The morgue released the bodies last night, but the funeral home's not doing anything yet. You look bushed. Did you get any sleep?"
"Maybe an hour. I think he had to touch her with his hands."
"I hope you're right, but theAtlantalab swears he wore like surgeon's gloves the whole time," Crawford said. "The mirror pieces had those smooth prints. Forefinger on the back of the piece wedged in the labia, smudged thumb on the front."
"He polished it after he placed it, so he could see his damn face in there probably," Graham said.
"The one in her mouth was obscured with blood. Same with the eyes. He never took the gloves off."
"Mrs. Leeds was a good-looking woman," Graham said. "You've seen the family pictures, right? I'd want to touch her skin in an intimate situation, wouldn't you?"
"Intimate?" Distaste sounded in Crawford's voice before he could stop it. Suddenly he was busy rummaging in his pockets for change.
"Intimate - they had privacy. Everybody else was dead. He could have their eyes open or shut, however he liked."
"Any way he liked," Crawford said. "They tried her skin for prints, of course. Nothing. They did get a hand spread off her neck."
"The report didn't say anything about dusting nails."
"I expect her fingernails were smudged when they took scrapings. The scrapings were just where she cut her palms with them. She never scratched him."
"She had pretty feet," Graham said.
"Umm-hmm. Let's head upstairs," Crawford said. "The troops are about to muster."
* * *
Jimmy Price had a lot of equipment - two heavy cases plus his camera bag and tripod. He made a clatter coming through the front door of the Lombard Funeral Home inAtlanta. He was a frail old man and his humor had not been improved by a long taxi ride from the airport in the morning rush.
An officious young fellow with styled hair hustled him into an office decorated in apricot and cream. The desk was bare except for a sculpture called ThePraying Hands.
Price was examining the fingertips of the praying hands when Mr. Lombard himself came in.Lombardchecked Price's credentials with extreme care.
"YourAtlantaoffice or agency or whatever called me, of course, Mr. Price. But last night we had to get the police to remove an obnoxious fellow who was trying to take pictures for The National Tattler, so I'm being very careful. I'm sure you understand. Mr. Price, the bodies were only released to us about one o'clock this morning, and the funeral is this afternoon at five. We simply can't delay it."
"This won't take a lot of time," Price said. "I need one reasonably intelligent assistant, if you have one. Have you touched the bodies, Mr. Lombard?"
"No."
"Find out who has. I'll have to print them all."
* * *
The morning briefing of police detectives on theLeedscase was concerned mostly with teeth.
Atlanta Chief of Detectives R. J. (Buddy)Springfield, a burly man in shirtsleeves, stood by the door with Dr. Dominic Princi as the twenty-three detectives filed in.
"All right, boys, let's have the big grin as you come by,"Springfieldsaid. "Show Dr. Princi your teeth. That's right, let's see 'em all. Christ,Sparks, is that your tongue or are you swallowing a squirrel? Keep moving."
A large frontal view of a set of teeth, upper and lower, was tacked to the bulletin board at the front of the squad room. It reminded Graham of the celluloid strip of printed teeth in a dime-store jack-o'lantern. He and Crawford sat down at the back of the room while the detectives took their places at schoolroom desks.
Atlanta Public Safety Commissioner Gilbert Lewis and his public-relations officer sat apart from them in folding chairs. Lewis had to face a news conference in an hour.
Chief of