Sin City

From this high angle, they now were looking down on the figure from the side. All they could see of the head was the ball cap, an ear, the glasses, the beard and the corded muscles of the neck.

'Freeze that again!' Catherine said.

Helpingstine did.

'Can you zoom in?' Sara asked.

Catherine and Sara again traded glances-they were on the same page.

Helpingstine zoomed in on the head. Though they got significantly closer, the resolution grew worse accordingly, and it wasn't a big help.

Sara pressed closer, her nose practically against the screen, pointing. 'What's that dark spot on the ear?'

The others leaned in closer too.

'I can't make anything out except a discoloration,' Catherine said.

Helpingstine punched the keyboard and the ear blossomed to fill most of the screen.

'Is that just…pixelation?' Sara asked.

'No way,' the tech said. 'It's something-I just can't squeeze out enough res to tell what. Earring, maybe. Probably, in fact.'

Eyebrow raised, Sara said, 'Lipton doesn't have a pierced ear, does he?'

'No,' Catherine said.

They sat back and looked at each other.

'Ray Lipton is innocent,' Sara said.

Catherine nodded. 'And Tera Jameson hated him.'

'Well,' Helpingstine said, 'based upon unequivocal standards of anatomy, your killer is a female-in fake facial hair.'

Catherine stood, pacing; Sara stood also, but planted herself. The wheels were turning now, for both of them.

'One of the strippers at Dream Dolls,' Sara said, 'told you Tera was a lesbian, and indicated Jenna was bisexual, right?'

'Right,' Catherine said. 'She also suggested that maybe Jenna Patrick and Tera Jameson weren't just roommates.'

'But we don't have any evidence that they were having an affair,' Sara said.

'Yet,' Catherine said.

Sara rose. 'Better call Conroy.'

Catherine already had her phone out and was punching in numbers. By the time Catherine and Conroy had compared information, they came to the mutual conclusion that they needed to meet back at Tera Jameson's apartment.

'Let's roll,' Catherine said to Sara.

'Conroy meeting us there?'

'Oh, yeah-with a warrant and the landlord.'

But before they exited the office, Catherine went to thank Helpingstine. 'Your next trip to Vegas,' she said, 'will be entirely on us-we may need you to testify.'

'My pleasure,' Helpingstine said, grinning. 'Anything to get the word out about my baby…. Will you recommend to your superiors that they buy a Tektive?'

'Dan,' Catherine said, pausing halfway out the door, 'I'll recommend we invest in the company.'

In the hallway, coming around a corner, Catherine and Sara almost collided with the burly, crew-cut Sergeant O'Riley.

'Just the lady I was lookin' to see,' O'Riley said to Catherine, pleasantly. 'Those jackets you had me tracking down-the Lipton Construction jackets?'

'Yes?'

He dug a notepad out of his breast shirt pocket, referred to a page as he said, 'Twenty-six positive I.D.'s out of the twenty-seven…and all three that the Lipton Construction office girl had marked 'maybe' were correct. No idea about the other five…or the one we're short, out a the positive list.'

'Nice work, Sergeant. Thanks.'

He gave Catherine a little grin. 'Getting along out there all right, without me?'

Catherine smiled at the big man. 'Yeah-but don't think you're not missed.'

'Holler if you need me,' he said, and headed back toward the PD wing.

Thirteen minutes later, Catherine and Sara pulled up in their Tahoe to find Conroy standing on the sidewalk out in front of the brick apartment house, speaking with a silver-haired senior citizen in a gray sweater, white slacks, black socks and sandals.

'This is the landlord, Bill Palmer,' Conroy said. 'I've already apologized for bothering him, this time of night.'

'Morning,' the older man corrected, trembling slightly as he shook their hands. He had wire frame trifocals, and one gigantic overgrown white eyebrow that looked like a caterpillar had died on his forehead.

'I've served Mr. Palmer with the warrant,' Conroy said, 'and he's about to let us in.'

'Let's get on with it,' Palmer said.

The three women followed him up the stairs and around behind the building. They'd made this trip enough that Catherine was considering adding it to her normal exercise routine. Palmer worked his way through half a dozen different keys-apparently there was no single master-before he finally managed to unlock the door of the apartment. Once they were inside, Conroy escorted the landlord back outside, to clear the scene, while Catherine and Sara snugged on their latex gloves and went to work.

As was so often the case in their job, they didn't know what they were looking for, exactly; so they started right there in the living room. Moving slowly, the two CSIs went over the single-armed couch, the chair, the hassock, and the rest of the living room, finding nothing of any apparent significance.

'If you take the bathroom,' Sara said, 'I'll take the kitchen.'

'What a deal.'

'I'll buy breakfast later, if you do.'

'That is a deal.'

In the bathroom, a gold-metal basket sat empty on the back of the toilet lid and Catherine knew at once that Tera Jameson had taken all of her cosmetics and such with her. Nonetheless, Catherine opened the medicine cabinet, but found nothing of use in there.

Whether the killer was Lipton or Tera or someone else, they would need DNA evidence on each of their suspects. Using a forceps like a spoon, Catherine dug around in the sink drain and came up with a wad of hair. Actually, she noticed two different colors of hair-Tera's and Jenna's, most likely. She stuffed it all into an evidence bags and slid over and did the same thing with the tub drain.

Sara came in from the kitchen and stuck her head in the door. 'Nothing.'

'Not much here either. Hair for DNA samples.'

'Care for a double-team in the bedroom?'

'Sounds like more fun than it will be.'

A king-sized bed with an ornate bookshelf headboard dominated the far wall of Tera's bedroom. A good-sized matching dresser stood against the left wall, a small television perched on top of it. The right wall was all closets and the wall with the door was home to a small dressing table, with a framed Penthouse magazine cover on the wall nearby…and Tera-wearing a golden chain mail outfit that most of her flesh showed through-was the cover girl.

Sara went directly to the dressing table, while Catherine started with the headboard. Dark oak and sturdy, the headboard contained two shelves and a drawer on either side. The top shelf was lined with paperbacks, mostly Grisham, King, Koontz and various other thrillers. The bottom shelf held magazines and a small electric alarm clock radio. Opening the nearest drawer, Catherine looked inside and found a tie-on seven-inch sex toy.

'Well hello, big fella,' Catherine said.

'What?' Sara said.

'Have a look at this.'