"Lester Corbin…yeah, I remember him…"

The voice on the other side sounded distant, unsure of the circumstances of the call despite Steve's earlier explanation.

"Can you tell me a bit more about what kind of a person he was? What he liked to do?"

He'd been trying to focus on the notepaper in front of him, the long fingers of his right hand nervously tapping his pencil against the rolodex. And yet, no matter how much he tried, Steve couldn't stop his eyes from drifting over to Mike's office, trying to gauge if the intense conversation with Lenny was headed anywhere.

So far it looked as though the Lieutenant wasn't cooperating the least.

"He was a bit of a strange fella, but not in a bad sort of way, if you get my drift, Inspector. Just…just not like the rest of us. He wasn't into football or any of the things you do at that age. We were good buddies in elementary school but then kinda drifted apart as we got older. You gotta forgive me, it's been quite a while since I've been in school."

It had been a long shot to say the least, but thanks to his booking file, Steve had been able to find out that Corbin grew up in North Fair Oaks, a suburb of Redwood City to the south of San Francisco. A call to the local middle school allowed him to get in contact with some of the illusive man's classmates, and, with a little bit of luck, finding more pieces to the puzzle that was Lester Corbin's last few days on earth.

His fourth call had finally yielded an unexpected result when the man on the other end, Rolff Ericksson remembered the social oddball from almost fifty years ago.

As the conversation continued on, Ericksson had asked his wife to look for an old tooth he had of Corbin when both attended elementary school and lost one each on the same day, thus exchanging it as a token of friendship. Although Bernie's preliminary opinion was that the skull found of their murder victim could indeed belong to Lester Corbin based on their file photo, it still wasn't the definite proof they dearly needed when it came to taking this case to the court level.

A tooth on the other hand might be something that could be compared in one form or another. Thus, Berkeley's Forensic Anthropology Lab was the next phone call on his list to make.

If found, Ericksson promised to drive the extra miles from his home in Fremont to bring it to the Hall of Justice Building, a move that made Steve wonder if it truly came from benevolence or shameless curiosity.

As the man on the other end of the line reiterated for the third time that he didn't have too much contact with Corbin during those years in Middle School but that a chance encounter back in San Francisco a few years ago while Corbin handed out food for the homeless at Fisherman's Wharf had changed his perspective on the man; Steve glanced back over into Mike's office, seeing both his partner and Lenny with their backs turned toward the bullpen, discussing things in private.

"He always was into religion. It wasn't like he was preaching to people, but if you asked him, he'd tell you all about Jesus and that sort of stuff, even when he was just a young kid. I shouldn't be surprised that he became a Reverend after all."

Steve nodded subconsciously, not feeling the need to remind Ericksson that nobody had been able to provide any sort of record that Corbin had actually gone through the legal steps of the clergy, more or less living out the dream of being a Reverend in his free time.

There could be far worse things one could do, for sure.

Some shuffling on the other side of the phone line caught his attention again as Ericksson paused, his voice filled with a smile.

"I have the tooth here, Inspector. Today is my day off, so I'll go jump on the highway real quick and bring it right over."

"I certainly appreciate all your help in this matter, Mister Ericksson.", Steve replied, feeling a slight tingle in his gut at the possibility of progress, "Our office is at the 4th Floor of the Hall of Justice Building. Ask for Lieutenant Stone or Inspector Keller as you get here."

"You bet, Inspector. I just hope this will help you in your investigation. That's too bad. Lester didn't deserve this."

"Nobody does, Mister Ericksson.", Steve replied wearily, not exactly sure why, "Nobody does."