security. It was a two bedroom suite, but much smaller than ours up on the higher floor. Elise carried all the photographs we had and we used them to compare them to the scene. I went and kneeled down at the entry way of the closet where he was found dead, rightfully mindful the whole time that I may be crouching near some crusted up semen on the carpet. I held my breath while I poked around inside for anything out of the ordinary. Nothing popped out at me.
I stood back up and continued looking around the room. It was exactly how it was in the photograph, right down to the pack of gum and junior mints on the table. His suitcase was still sitting open on the bed, clothes removed and stacked neatly. A pair of Nike shoes at the bedside. Empty glass on the night stand. In the other bedroom, where Vince had probably stayed, was nothing. It had been cleaned. Only the room where the body was found was undisturbed. This bothered me, but I let it go. If I was Vince, I wouldn’t be willing to leave all my stuff unprotected in a hotel room for two weeks while someone, MAYBE, worked on the case at hand. Who knows who would be coming and going from the room. He had every right to take his stuff with him. I just wish he hadn’t, for some reason.
Elise had started looking under the bed and tables, behind the TV and whatnot, looking for, I suppose, anything that might help us out. She wasn’t having much luck. I went out in to the common room and put my bag on the table and squatted down next to it. I laid the photographs on the glass tabletop and removed my magnifying glass from my bag-o-goodies. I focused in closely on the dead body.
“Something tells me you’re not the first person to use a microscope on that guy’s junk,” Elise said as she came walking out from the bedroom.
“This is a magnifying glass, but not a bad joke, all the same.”
“Thanks. I learned from the best. I actually can’t believe we are sitting in a room where a guy died masturbating and with an open box of Junior Mints on the table and you haven’t made a single Marcie Playground joke.”
“Huh?” I ask, distracted. “Oh, um, I smell sex and candy. Wacka Wacka!”
“Really? That’s it?”
“Sorry. I’m just looking for something.”
“Ooookay. And what are you looking for, oh wise one?”
“Actually, I’m trying to see if he is wearing a belt. I looked through his clothes on the bed there and there wasn’t any kind of dress clothes or shoes. They obviously weren’t here to go classy or go to a club. Nothing but a pair of jeans, two pairs of shorts and the jeans he died in.”
“Yeah, so?”
“Yeah, well, that’s what I wear, too. And guys like us don’t bring more than one belt with us on vacation. It’s one of the luxuries of being so handsome and laid back casual.”
“So laid back casual is the new lazy with no style?”
“Whatever, nice skinny jeans, Mary Tyler Moore.”
“Nice try. You know you like these! Just look at my ass in these things? What two kids?!”
(Gah, knock it off. Your ass distracts me enough, vile woman, I’m trying to work!)
“Yeah, real good, now shut up for a second while I figure this out. I don’t know why I didn’t think of this earlier. No belt on and we’re right back where we started, but if he is wearing a belt I think we hit pay dirt. I just…cant…tell.” I squinted into the magnifying glass, trying desperately to see anything. No luck.
I flipped to the next photo and took another look. Nothing. On to the next. I clearly saw a belt loop in this one. Nothing underneath it. No belt. Out of luck. Game over, mannn, game over.
“Shit, he’s not wearing a belt.”
“Don’t you think the detective would have figured that one out by now?”
“Ya never know, sometimes the most obvious clues are the ones that are overlooked. It was worth a shot.”
“You’re right. Nice try, kid.”
I stood up from my squat, slowly and rather painfully. I was getting old and was still
I stood back up and continued looking around the room. It was exactly how it was in the photograph, right down to the pack of gum and junior mints on the table. His suitcase was still sitting open on the bed, clothes removed and stacked neatly. A pair of Nike shoes at the bedside. Empty glass on the night stand. In the other bedroom, where Vince had probably stayed, was nothing. It had been cleaned. Only the room where the body was found was undisturbed. This bothered me, but I let it go. If I was Vince, I wouldn’t be willing to leave all my stuff unprotected in a hotel room for two weeks while someone, MAYBE, worked on the case at hand. Who knows who would be coming and going from the room. He had every right to take his stuff with him. I just wish he hadn’t, for some reason.
Elise had started looking under the bed and tables, behind the TV and whatnot, looking for, I suppose, anything that might help us out. She wasn’t having much luck. I went out in to the common room and put my bag on the table and squatted down next to it. I laid the photographs on the glass tabletop and removed my magnifying glass from my bag-o-goodies. I focused in closely on the dead body.
“Something tells me you’re not the first person to use a microscope on that guy’s junk,” Elise said as she came walking out from the bedroom.
“This is a magnifying glass, but not a bad joke, all the same.”
“Thanks. I learned from the best. I actually can’t believe we are sitting in a room where a guy died masturbating and with an open box of Junior Mints on the table and you haven’t made a single Marcie Playground joke.”
“Huh?” I ask, distracted. “Oh, um, I smell sex and candy. Wacka Wacka!”
“Really? That’s it?”
“Sorry. I’m just looking for something.”
“Ooookay. And what are you looking for, oh wise one?”
“Actually, I’m trying to see if he is wearing a belt. I looked through his clothes on the bed there and there wasn’t any kind of dress clothes or shoes. They obviously weren’t here to go classy or go to a club. Nothing but a pair of jeans, two pairs of shorts and the jeans he died in.”
“Yeah, so?”
“Yeah, well, that’s what I wear, too. And guys like us don’t bring more than one belt with us on vacation. It’s one of the luxuries of being so handsome and laid back casual.”
“So laid back casual is the new lazy with no style?”
“Whatever, nice skinny jeans, Mary Tyler Moore.”
“Nice try. You know you like these! Just look at my ass in these things? What two kids?!”
(Gah, knock it off. Your ass distracts me enough, vile woman, I’m trying to work!)
“Yeah, real good, now shut up for a second while I figure this out. I don’t know why I didn’t think of this earlier. No belt on and we’re right back where we started, but if he is wearing a belt I think we hit pay dirt. I just…cant…tell.” I squinted into the magnifying glass, trying desperately to see anything. No luck.
I flipped to the next photo and took another look. Nothing. On to the next. I clearly saw a belt loop in this one. Nothing underneath it. No belt. Out of luck. Game over, mannn, game over.
“Shit, he’s not wearing a belt.”
“Don’t you think the detective would have figured that one out by now?”
“Ya never know, sometimes the most obvious clues are the ones that are overlooked. It was worth a shot.”
“You’re right. Nice try, kid.”
I stood up from my squat, slowly and rather painfully. I was getting old and was still
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