It was raining and Teddy was having a devil of a time lighting his cigarette. The lip of his fedora and his cupped hand helped but the rain came with wind. It turned to a fine spray that wove past his cheeks and killed the struggling cherry or his whipping zippo flame.

They were rolling the body out about now, having a hard time on the slick stairs. Dark water from a rain gutter splashed over the coroner and soaked through her white sheet. Sticking to her curves he had to appreciate the way she filled out an hour glass, even in death.

Too bad about that broad, but he had a job to do and the scene was still fresh.