“Where to?” he asked. “I’m not used to doing the driving when you’re around.”
“I’ve been thinking about that. You seem seasoned enough to take a turn behind the wheel.” Or me.
He smirked. “That’s real big of you.”
“I know. I’m a great partner. You hit the lottery when you were assigned to work with me, Lido.”
“Really?” he chuckled.
“I’m meeting my mother for a quick bite before the theater.”
“What are you seeing?”
“ Pervy Pumps ,” I confessed. “Darhansoff comped me a pair of tickets.”
His eyes grew large. “What about parity for your partner?”
“I thought you hated the theater.”
“Yeah, I do. Just busting your chops,” he admitted as we walked to the car.
I tossed him the keys. “Show me what you’ve got, rookie, and keep in mind that if you don’t know how to handle a car properly, I’ll remind you of it every day of your life.”
He rolled his eyes as he got behind the wheel. “You think Bascom and Danziger will be found guilty?”
“Does a bear shit in the woods?”
“So yes, then?”
“I think we’ve got their asses pretty solidly nailed.” Forensics had come back on John Doe’s DNA, proving that he was in fact Rory Singer, and fibers found on the deceased matched Eli Danziger’s wool winter coat. I doubted that we’d get a confession from him, but Danziger had been in the army, and I know for fact that anyone who completes basic training knows how to detonate an explosive charge, so a coffee-can bomb was well within his range of expertise.
The security video at the Al Hirschfeld Theater showed that Danziger had attended the Sunday matinee. All he had to do was hide overnight, sneak downstairs to the lower level dressing rooms, wait for Koufax to arrive on Monday morning, and knock him unconscious. I had chatted with Koufax subsequent to his being rescued and learned that both Bascom and Danziger knew that he was planning to spruce up his dressing room before work on Monday, and that he was meeting Singer at the theater.
Bascom was complicit as well. Prints found on the heavy sculptor’s hammer were his. His prints were found on the container of antifreeze recovered from the recycling bin, as well as on a Jamba Juice container found in a garbage pail outside the chabad. The tested Jamba Juice container revealed traces of ethylene glycol, the substance used to poison Singer. We also found a ticket for the Wednesday matinee of Pervy Pumps at Bascom’s apartment. My guess was that he was planning to sneak downstairs and unlock Koufax’s dressing room during the performance. All he had to do was push the door open without allowing Koufax to see him. He must’ve known that the cleaning staff would be coming by on Wednesday evening and would discover Koufax in the opened dressing room. At that point Koufax would’ve been without water for two and a half days and fatal dehydration doesn’t generally occur for at least a week, so there was a safe margin for error. Koufax was never meant to be a victim. They just needed him out of the way in order to murder Singer.
“You said that you weren’t surprised to see Danziger in Bascom’s apartment, but you never explained why.”
“Well, my fledgling detective, not to toot my own horn, but it all comes down to being observant.”
“Here she goes again,” Lido bellyached.
“When we first met Eli Danziger, I noticed odd black streaks on his fingernails, running from his cuticles to the tips of his nails.”
“That was a clue?”
“Not in itself, but when I went back to the morgue, I asked to see John Doe’s body again and he had those black streaks on his nails as well.”
“Black streaks?” Lido seemed puzzled. “Is that some new gay thing, like wearing one left earring?”
“If only that were the case,” I lamented. “Bascom had them as well.”
“You’re kidding?”
“I wish I were. Once I noticed those streaks on Doe’s nails, I called Tully and asked him to run
“I’ve been thinking about that. You seem seasoned enough to take a turn behind the wheel.” Or me.
He smirked. “That’s real big of you.”
“I know. I’m a great partner. You hit the lottery when you were assigned to work with me, Lido.”
“Really?” he chuckled.
“I’m meeting my mother for a quick bite before the theater.”
“What are you seeing?”
“ Pervy Pumps ,” I confessed. “Darhansoff comped me a pair of tickets.”
His eyes grew large. “What about parity for your partner?”
“I thought you hated the theater.”
“Yeah, I do. Just busting your chops,” he admitted as we walked to the car.
I tossed him the keys. “Show me what you’ve got, rookie, and keep in mind that if you don’t know how to handle a car properly, I’ll remind you of it every day of your life.”
He rolled his eyes as he got behind the wheel. “You think Bascom and Danziger will be found guilty?”
“Does a bear shit in the woods?”
“So yes, then?”
“I think we’ve got their asses pretty solidly nailed.” Forensics had come back on John Doe’s DNA, proving that he was in fact Rory Singer, and fibers found on the deceased matched Eli Danziger’s wool winter coat. I doubted that we’d get a confession from him, but Danziger had been in the army, and I know for fact that anyone who completes basic training knows how to detonate an explosive charge, so a coffee-can bomb was well within his range of expertise.
The security video at the Al Hirschfeld Theater showed that Danziger had attended the Sunday matinee. All he had to do was hide overnight, sneak downstairs to the lower level dressing rooms, wait for Koufax to arrive on Monday morning, and knock him unconscious. I had chatted with Koufax subsequent to his being rescued and learned that both Bascom and Danziger knew that he was planning to spruce up his dressing room before work on Monday, and that he was meeting Singer at the theater.
Bascom was complicit as well. Prints found on the heavy sculptor’s hammer were his. His prints were found on the container of antifreeze recovered from the recycling bin, as well as on a Jamba Juice container found in a garbage pail outside the chabad. The tested Jamba Juice container revealed traces of ethylene glycol, the substance used to poison Singer. We also found a ticket for the Wednesday matinee of Pervy Pumps at Bascom’s apartment. My guess was that he was planning to sneak downstairs and unlock Koufax’s dressing room during the performance. All he had to do was push the door open without allowing Koufax to see him. He must’ve known that the cleaning staff would be coming by on Wednesday evening and would discover Koufax in the opened dressing room. At that point Koufax would’ve been without water for two and a half days and fatal dehydration doesn’t generally occur for at least a week, so there was a safe margin for error. Koufax was never meant to be a victim. They just needed him out of the way in order to murder Singer.
“You said that you weren’t surprised to see Danziger in Bascom’s apartment, but you never explained why.”
“Well, my fledgling detective, not to toot my own horn, but it all comes down to being observant.”
“Here she goes again,” Lido bellyached.
“When we first met Eli Danziger, I noticed odd black streaks on his fingernails, running from his cuticles to the tips of his nails.”
“That was a clue?”
“Not in itself, but when I went back to the morgue, I asked to see John Doe’s body again and he had those black streaks on his nails as well.”
“Black streaks?” Lido seemed puzzled. “Is that some new gay thing, like wearing one left earring?”
“If only that were the case,” I lamented. “Bascom had them as well.”
“You’re kidding?”
“I wish I were. Once I noticed those streaks on Doe’s nails, I called Tully and asked him to run
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