The Bum's Rush by G. M. Ford Page A

amazing
what they can do with these new plastics. Look how lifelike those
sawed-off rib ends are where he's cut that big window in the thing's
chest cavity. Got him a little door now, like an old-time speakeasy.
Just needs a knob. Joe sent me.
    "Pure smack. You mean, like, untouched, nobody had stepped on it at all?"
    "Pure as the driven snow. Best stuff I've analyzed in years. China White. Stopped his clock in two seconds flat."
    "Where the hell does a body get uncut drugs these days?" I wondered out loud.
    He winked and leered. "When you're a big-time rock star, I imagine you can pretty much get whatever you want."
    Tommy pulled open the trapdoor in the model's chest
to reveal a morass of internal organs, all blown up like a mottled
rainbow of balloons, all fighting for space within the torso.
    "Did you ever see a spleen that big?" he asked, poking a quivering purple balloon with his gloved index finger.
    "Not since breakfast," I offered cheerfully. "Was there other evidence of him being an IV drug user?"
    Amazing realism. They've even included aroma. I wonder if the individual organs are all scratch-and-sniff?
    "That's the sad part," Tommy said, dropping the
trapdoor with a wet plop. "Cops found a set of works there in the
house. He had three or four fresh puncture marks. He was either a
moderate user or he'd just started. Either way, he was no way ready for
anything that strong."
    "How much energy did the SPD put into it?"
    I could see the consternation in his eyes. I should have been puking down the drain by now. I had him going.
    "What was there for them to do? He's found locked
in his own house, in his own bathroom, needle still in his arm. This
wasn't like Beaver Cleaver suddenly went wrong or anything either. This
kid had a psychiatric history you wouldn't believe. Foster homes. Been
remanded to the state twice. I mean, I'm sure, you know, him being
famous and all, I'm sure SPD dotted their f s and such, but this was
strictly a no-brainer."
    "Nothing at all?" I pressed.
    He ruminated. "An elderly neighbor thought she heard loud voices coming from the place on the night he died."
    "Did they investigate?"
    I could sense that he was smiling behind the mask. "You know what she wanted the crime lab techs to do?''
    "What?"
    "She wanted them to check and see if her locks had been picked. You know why?"
    "I'll bite. Why?"
    "Because she was sure that people had been breaking
into the place and moving her stuff. Her keys and glasses. Not stealing
them or anything. Just moving around so she couldn't find them. She
figured it was the Lebanese couple at the end of the hall."
    I took another tack. "And, from your end, you gave him the whole nine yards?"
    "Hey, man, it's a big case. I've got every second
on film and enough tissue samples in the freezer for a barbecue. The
steel plate from his arm. You name it, I got it. My Peking ducks are in
a row."
    "I didn't mean to imply " I started.
    "You ever seen a pancreas?"
    I took a deep breath. "No," I said. "But I've been meaning to."
    He began rooting around, up to his elbow in the torso. I took another tack. "Who found him?"
    "Anonymous phone tip. A woman, as I understand it.
Probably one of his groupies. Didn't want to get involved. That sort of
thing. Probably a user herself. They want nothing to do with the heat,
but I don't have to tell you that."
    "No question about any of it at all?" I pressed.
    "Nada. Cut and dried.... Ahhhh," he said, snaking
his arm out of the model. In his hand was an oblong object the size of
a sweet potato. He waved it under my nose. "The pancreas," he announced.
    That's what it is a sweet potato or a yam covered
in guava jelly. Amazing what they'll think of and they are
scratch-and-sniff. Wow. Wonder how in God's name they did that.
    Nonplussed, I ambled back around to the far side of the model.
    "Well, Tommy, my man, thanks for the info and the anatomy lesson," I said.
    His eyes narrowed. His cheek twitched madly beneath the mask.
    "You know how come