fast-food sandwich wrappers and junk from the roach coach. S.I.D. is on the way. So are a couple of investigators from the Crypt.”
“If it’s a construction site, where’s all the activity?” Decker asked.
“No activity because they’re waiting for the framing inspector to sign off. The appointment was for four o’clock in the afternoon. The foreman, who’s name is Chuck Tinsley, arrived here first and was going over the property just to make sure everything looked okay. He was waiting for the contractor and the architect to come down when he discovered the body. He called 911, then immediately called the contractor, who is on his way.”
“Where’s Tinsley?”
Marge pointed to a black-and-white. “He’s ensconced inside. Should I get him?”
Decker nodded as his gaze continued to fix on the swinging corpse. His thoughts were meandering to several places, and none were good.
THE BACK PASSENGER door to the cruiser was open, a uniform standing in front of the space, keeping watch over her charge as well as the set of wheels. If Decker squinted, he could see a figure huddled in the backseat, his arms wrapped around his body as if his arms were straps on a straitjacket. As Decker approached the car, he nodded to the police officer and pointed to the open door. The cop bent down and spoke to the huddled man. When he emerged, Tinsley was average height, a tank of a fellow with long, muscular arms, dark eyes, a strong chin, and a face of controlled stubble. The officer led him to Decker, who glanced at her tag.
“Thank you, Officer Breckenridge, I’ll take it from here.” He extended his hand to the foreman, whose complexion was ashen behind the darkening of beard. He had brown eyes, a Roman nose, and thin lips. His hair was a nest of cowlicks. He appeared to be in his thirties. “Lieutenant Peter Decker.”
“Chuck Tinsley.” His voice was deep but held a slight tremble. “This is…I’m a little freaked out.”
“I do this for a living and I’m a lot freaked out,” Decker said.
Tinsley laughed nervously. “If you see a pile of vomit, it’s probably mine.”
“How’s your stomach now?” Decker asked.
He held up a soda can. “Someone was nice enough to give me this. I think it was the lady cop. I’m a little confused.”
Decker pulled out his notebook. “Why don’t you tell me what happened?”
“Nothing much to tell. I came early to clean up before the contractor arrived.” He bit his lip. “I saw the body.”
“Can we back it up for a minute?”
“Sure?”
“When did you get to the site?”
“Around quarter to.”
“Quarter to what?”
“Oh, quarter to two. One forty-five.”
“And when were you supposed to meet the contractor.”
“Around three-thirty, four.”
Decker looked at his watch. It was nearly three now. “You came early?”
“Yeah, to clean up. You know how it is with construction crews,” Tinsley said. “They throw their shit all over the place. I try to get them to clean up at the end of the day, but if it’s been a hard one, I let it go. It’s easier to clean up by myself when they’re not here. That’s what I was doing. With the inspection coming, you need a clean site.”
“So you came at one forty-five and…what did you immediately start doing?”
“Cleaning up stuff. Picking up nails, piling up loose lumber, gathering up tools left behind, throwing away trash…lots of trash.”
“Did you have a trash bag with you?”
“Yeah, sure.”
“Where is the bag now?”
Tinsley’s eyes narrowed in confusion. “Not sure. Probably I dropped it when I saw the body.”
“When you noticed the body, how long had you been at the site?”
“Maybe five minutes. I saw a lot of flies and figured there was a pile of dog shit that I needed to clean up. Not that I see a lot of dog shit inside the house, but I figured what else could be attracting so many flies?”
“Then what did you do?”
“I think I found a plastic bag or something to pick up the shit with. After that, things got fuzzy. I think I mighta screamed. Then I barfed. Then I called 911 on my cell.”
“You also called the contractor?”
“Yeah, I called him, too. He told me he was running late, and hopefully he’d make it before the inspector. But then I told him about the body and that I called the police and that he should cancel the inspection.”
“Then what did you do after you called the contractor?”
“I don’t really remember…the police showed up a couple of minutes later. Someone told me to wait in the car and that someone would be with me in a moment. I said I was feeling a little sick and someone got me a can of soda. And that’s that.”
Decker said, “Did you touch the body at all? Maybe feel for a pulse?”
Tinsley turned green. “I mighta. I don’t remember too well.”
“Did you get a good look at the face?”
“I just glanced at it…her. It didn’t even look human.”
“Did you recognize her as someone you know or have seen around the area?”
“Tell you the truth, I didn’t look that long.”
“Could you glance at the body another time, just to see if you can identify her?”
“I suppose so…”
Decker led him over to the corpse. Someone from the coroner’s office had given the go-ahead to cut her down. She laid her on a gurney with a sheet over her head. S.I.D. was printing her hands. Decker gently removed the blanket to expose the face. It was still red and puffy, but a bit less distorted.
The foreman stared at the face for a few seconds, and then averted his eyes. He appeared to be holding down his stomach. “I don’t know her at all.”
“Thank you for trying.” Decker guided him away from the scene, the two of them walking toward the cruiser.
Tinsley gave a sick smile. “At least I didn’t heave this time. When can I go?”
“We’re
