Judging from the sturdy clothes, the victim had been a dockworker too, but none of the men with Max recognized him. Although, in Max’s opinion, they didn’t look very closely. He couldn’t blame them. The face wound was ghastly.

As the five men watched, Max fished through the pockets and found nothing, so he moved up to the dead man’s collar and began unbuttoning the flannel shirt.

“What are you doing?”

Max looked up. It was the largest of the five that had spoken.

“Looking for clues. As this man is no longer in a position to tell me who he was or what happened to him, I have to use his clothes and personal effects to do so. However, the five of you are free to go. I don’t think there’s anything you can do here.”

Four of them left as quickly as they could, running over each other in the process. The big man crossed his massive arms. “I’ll stay in case whoever did this is still around here.”

Max was surprised. “What’s your name?”

“Frederick Dukes.”

“Pleased to make your aquaintance. I am Max Eisenhardt.”