Theynow had two separate cases where the original suspect in a homicide case wasfound murdered and had been dumped in the precise same spot as the originalhomicide. One of the cases had the accomplice dumped on the grave site of theoriginal victim. They had every reason to believe it was about to happen again.If it hadn't happened already.

    Niccisprang to her feet. Dino helped her with her coat, put on his own. 'We're offto Record Storage,' Dino said. 'Stand by.'

    AsNicci and Dino left, Jessica and Byrne returned to the white board. Byrneerased the question mark at the top of the triangle on the right, then replacedit with the name Marcellus Palmer. He then erased the question mark at thelower left, replaced it with the name Preston Braswell.

    Jessicatook a step back, looked at the growing mountain of evidence connected with thesethree cases. There were three binders on the desk, each with a thickening groupof folders within. She glanced at Byrne.

    Hewas staring at something else.

    Hewas staring at the final question mark on the board.

    Twentyminutes later they got a call from Nicci Malone. She had the box of files onthe 2004 murder of Marcellus Palmer. She was just about to fax over the suspectand witness list. Jessica put the phone on speaker.

    'Howbad is it?' Jessica asked.

    'Puton your Nikes. The initial list has seventy-one names.'

    'Seventy-one?'

    'Yeah.The homeless are a social group,' Nicci said. 'But it looks like there werefour men besides Preston Braswell who we liked more than the others. They wereall questioned and released. I think we should try to track them down first.'

    Beforeour killer does, Jessica thought.

    A fewminutes later they received the fax with the four names. Jessica found them allin the system and printed off what information they had on the men, including themost recent photographs.

    Becausethere was no information on where Marcellus Palmer was buried they would haveto start on the street.

    Foryears, and with no small sense of irony, many homeless had huddled in the parkdirectly across from the police administration building, in what is known asFranklin Square. In general, the homeless congregate where they are fed. Notmuch had changed in the past twenty-five years.

    Thedetectives divvied up the names and photographs of the four men, as well as thelocations of the shelters. They would work these interviews solo, as there weretoo many places to visit in teams, and time was short.

    Jessicawould take Old City.

Chapter 36

    Thearea beneath the Ben Franklin Bridge, at the interchange with 1-95, had longbeen a refuge for Philadelphia's homeless. For years the police referred to itas The Condos. Jessica parked, found a break in the chain-link fence, made herway beneath the overpass. There were a few dozen people congregated there.Stacked against the fence were stuffed cardboard boxes, bursting plastic bags.Nearby was a stroller with only three wheels. Cups, bottles, milk cartons,fast-food trash. No aluminum cans, of course. Cans were currency.

    Therewere ten or twelve people on the north side of the encampment, mostly men. Theyglanced up at Jessica, not reacting in any way. Two reasons. One, she was awoman. Two, even though she was clearly a police officer, or at least arepresentative of the system, she was not coming in all guns blazing, with theobvious intention of uprooting them.

    Therewere three distinct camps, with a few men off on their own. Jessica approachedthe first group, showed them the photographs. No one admitted recognizinganyone. The same with the second and third groups of men.

    AsJessica walked away from the third group, one of the men called out to her.Jessica turned around. It was one of the older guys. He was lying on a thickbed of cardboard.

    'Say,darling, you ever been with a homeless man?' He smiled his keyboard grin, brokeinto a phlegmy cough. The other two men in his posse chuckled. 'Guaranteed tochange your life. You interested?'

    'Sure,'Jessica said. 'All you have to do is take a shower and get a job.'

    Theman looked shocked. He got back under his blanket, turned on his side. 'Youain't all that.''

    Jessicasmiled, made her way back around the camp, asking the same questions, receivingnothing. The last man pointed to a man on the other side of the embankment,someone Jessica hadn't noticed before. As she approached she saw that the man -who was surrounded by carefully placed trash bags - had his legs covered withwhat appeared to be a new blanket. As Jessica got closer she saw that it stillhad its price tag.

    Theman was propped against the fence, reading a paperback. Its cover was missingbut Jessica could read the spine. Great Expectations.

    'Excuseme. Sir?'

    Helooked up. He was black, somewhere between fifty and seventy. He wore atattered brown corduroy blazer and a yellowed shirt. His tie, like the blanket,looked new. Jessica wondered if there was a price tag on that, too. His eyeswere bright and intelligent.

    'Madam.'

    'MayI ask your name?'

    'AbrahamColtrane.'

    Jessicabelieved the Abraham part. 'Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?' Jessicaheld up her badge. The man scanned it.

    'Notat all.'

    Jessicaheld up three of the photographs. 'Do you know any of these men?'

    Coltranescanned the pictures. 'I do not. Are they men of leisure, such as myself?'

    'Theyare.'

    AbrahamColtrane nodded. Jessica held up the final picture, a photograph of the fourthman believed to have been involved with the

    2004murder of Marcellus Palmer. The man's name was Tyvander Alice. 'What about thisman?'

    Coltranelooked again. This time Jessica saw the slightest flicker of recognition.'Again,' he said. 'My regrets.'

    'Thispicture was taken a few years ago.'

    'Iremember everyone I have ever met, madam.'

    Shebelieved he did, which was why she didn't believe the part about him notknowing Tyvander Alice. She took out a five-dollar bill, making sure that theman saw it.

    'Niceblanket,' she said.

    'Itprovides.'

    Jessicalifted the price tag. 'You have a receipt for this, Mr. Coltrane?'

    'Itwas a gift from one of my many admirers.'

    'Theygave you a gift with the price tag still on it?'

    Coltraneshrugged. 'The young have but a nodding acquaintance with custom, I fear.'

    'ThankGod the court system still does,' Jessica said. 'They're really big on it.Indictment, prosecution, conviction, incarceration. You might say they aresticklers for tradition.'

    Coltranestared at her for a moment. Jessica saw the man's will begin to fade. 'May Isee that photograph again?'

    'Ofcourse.' Jessica showed him. He studied it for a moment, rubbing his stubbledchin.

    'Nowthat I've had a moment to reflect, I believe I have made the acquaintance ofthis gentleman.'

    'Isthis Tyvander Alice?'

    'Tyvander?'he asked. 'No. I knew him by another name. I know him as Hoochie.'

    'Hoochie?'

    'Yes.An unfortunate and undignified sobriquet based on his love of the lesservintages, I believe.'

    Jessicahanded Coltrane the five. The man touched it to his forehead, sniffed it, thenspirited it away under his blanket.

    BeforeJessica could ask another question she saw the blanket move. A few secondslater a Jack Russell terrier poked his snout out.

    Hisgray snout. The dog blinked a few times, adjusting its eyes to the light.

    'Andwho is this?' Jessica asked.