Chapter Five

Deli-cate Clues

Steve quickly jotted down the information his father gave him, then pointed to the man stretched out on the gurney. While they had been talking, Jack had directed the nurses as to the patient's treatment. "How long till he's coherent?"


Mark assessed the man for several moments. "Unless something unexpected comes up, I'd expect to see improvement over the next few hours."


"Good." Steve slipped his notebook back into his pocket with a satisfied smile. "That gives me just enough time to get a search warrant for Medi-Quick's records. After that, I'll be back to question him about how he managed to get that inhaler."


"Oh, Steve." Mark made a face. "Edward Flanagan is a good friend of mine. You shouldn't have to go to that extreme. Why don't you let me talk to him? I'm sure he'll give you whatever cooperation that you need."


Steve shook his head. "Dad, strange things happen when the Los Angeles Police Department comes asking for a peek into your records. Friend or no friend, I'd prefer to come armed with a piece of paper that says he has to give them to me. That way there's no chance of any misunderstandings. It'll protect him and the department."

"You're right, of course," Mark smiled at him. "And I'll just put this in a safe place for you." He held up the bag containing the man's possessions.


"Thanks, Dad." Steve turned and left the Emergency Room. As he moved to step into the opening door of the elevator, he was bumped by a gentleman coming out. Steve stumbled back slightly, mildly annoyed at the man's rudeness. But the guy never apologized, or even turned around. He simply continued to stride forward, appearing to be headed toward the ER. Steve's eyes settled for a moment on the logo across the back of his overalls: CenterTech. Then, dismissing the incident, he stepped into the elevator.


He had to admit, a few days earlier and he might not have been so forgiving. The case had been really getting to him. But now, after six months of stagnation, he finally felt like he was back in the swing of things. As much as it plagued him to acknowledge it, he owed that in part to his dad, Jack and Amanda.


Punching the button that would move the elevator to the proper floor, he watched the numbers tick past. With each number, another name and another victim ticked through his mind. He wondered if perhaps he should have brought them in sooner, if only for a different perspective. But then he reminded himself that enough of a pattern may not have emerged for them to find anything, either. It would have been even worse thinking that the surname of the first victim was the profession of the second victim, but not knowing for sure and having to wait for someone else to die. He shuddered a little at the thought.


The elevator dinged and opened onto the parking deck. He stepped out and headed toward his truck, his mind still mulling the case. He knew that the next victim would be targeted to die more than two weeks but less than a month from the last victim, which meant that sometime between about the 14th and the 22nd of July, a dog catcher, or a doctor, with a surname beginning with a letter of the alphabet between E and M, was in great danger and didn't know it. The 14th of July was less than a week away. He hoped that something turned up in Medi-Quick's files. Having discovered as much as they had, he didn't think he could take another innocent death. 

Refusing to let his mind go any further down that particular path, he unlocked his truck and moved to climb in. The ringing of his cell phone made him pause.


----


"What are you doing, Mark?"


Jack's voice caused Mark to startle. He looked guiltily up at his colleague and then back down at the items that were piled haphazardly onto a handkerchief in his lap. "Uh, would you believe taking inventory?" Mark asked.


Jack let out a soft bark of laughter. "Yeah, that I would believe. But not the way you'd want Steve to believe you're doing it. You're looking for more clues aren't you?"


Mark chuckled, happy to have a co-conspirator. Carefully handling objects by their edges, he began to present them. "This is the inhaler that you found which has the name of our second victim on it." He turned the inhaler slightly, pointing out the dirty smudges. "I'd say our friend in there had this in his possession for a while. He obviously knew he had asthma and used this for it. I've a suspicion that this container is now empty, hence his ending up here in the ER." He carefully dropped it back into the bag.


"Okay, I'll buy that," Jack said, settling beside him.


Mark picked up the next item in the pile. A wad of condiment packets wrapped in clear plastic wrap. He pointed to several packets of mustard with a pen. "Those are from Hero's Deli." He waited for Jack to make the connection.


"Okay." Jack thought for a moment, obviously wanting very much to come up with the answer. He gave in with a shrug. "I don't get it. What's so important about Hero's Deli?"


"The second victim's body was found near a deli where he often had lunch. The name of the deli was Hero's." Mark's grin broadened as realization dawned in Jack's eyes.


"So how did the bum get it? No way he orchestrated all of these murders."


"I agree," Mark said. "Off hand I can think of only a couple of possible scenarios. Either our killer dropped it, or the victim did, and our John Doe picked it up."


Jack's expression was doubtful. "I don't think our killer would be so sloppy as to leave it behind, do you? And, if your life depends on a medication, I'd think that you'd take good care of it."

Mark frowned. "You've got a point. But remember Coronado's allergies were controlled by Claritin. The inhaler was for emergencies." He mulled that for a second, then an idea struck.


"Look at the amount of condiments here. This guy spent a lot of time at that deli. Maybe Coronado saw him, might even have noticed that he was wheezing. Considering his generosity, he may have given it to the man voluntarily. After all, he could simply order up another one."


Jack's brows rose. "I like that. That works. We should tell Steve. If this guy spent time in that alley . . . "


"He might have seen the murderer, or even the murder itself." Mark finished the statement grimly. He dumped the items back into the bag and reached for his phone.