Game On: Tempting Twenty-Eight (Stephanie Plum #28)(14)

“Cause of death?”

“Not sure. Stupin was on the floor with his hands bound. There was some blood. The two uniforms looked nauseous.”

“Had the room been tossed?”

“Didn’t look like it.”

“No messages written in blood on the walls or floor?”

“Didn’t see any.”

“We should check on Melvin,” Diesel said.

“Do you think Oswald did this?”

Diesel shrugged.

I went back inside to tell Morelli I was leaving. He was standing a couple of feet away from Stupin, watching the ME work.

“Diesel is here,” I said. “We’re going to check on Melvin Schwartz.” I glanced down at the body. “What’s on the floor by Stupin?”

“His tongue,” Morelli said. “The killer cut off Stupin’s tongue.”

There was a loud clanging in my head, and everything went black except for tiny flashing dots.

Morelli grabbed me, sat me in a chair, and bent me over so my head was between my legs. A paramedic came over with an ice pack.

“What the fork,” I said.

Morelli had the ice pack against the back of my neck. “Are you okay?”

“I wasn’t ready for the… you know.”

“Tongue,” Morelli said.

“Yes. The t-t-tongue.”

“If it’s any consolation, I had a moment of horror, too, and one of the uniforms threw up.”

I sucked in some air. “Okay, I’m feeling better.”

Morelli walked me out to Diesel.

“Long time no see,” he said to Diesel.

Diesel nodded. “I’ve been busy.”

“Steph said you’re going to check on Melvin Schwartz,” Morelli said. “Keep me in the loop.”

“Absolutely,” Diesel said.

Morelli turned to me. “I’ll be over later with Bob.”

Diesel watched Morelli walk away. “Who’s Bob?”

“His dog.”

“The big orange one that eats furniture?”

“He’s better now. He hardly ever eats furniture.”

It was dark when we rode down Beeker Street. No streetlights and no lights on in Deacon Plumbing. Diesel parked the Ducati by the door to Melvin’s apartment, and we got off the bike. He rang the bell twice and no one answered.

“No lights on. No cars in the lot. No one home,” I said.

Diesel twisted the doorknob and opened the door. “Let’s make sure.”

“How did you do that?” I asked. “I tried to open it and it was locked.”

“Just one of my many talents.”

We went up the stairs, Diesel flipped the light switch, and we took a moment to scan the room.

“I don’t see any dead bodies sprawled on the floor,” Diesel said.

“And no signs of struggle. It looks like Melvin is just out on the town.”

We snooped through file drawers and desktop scribblings, but we didn’t turn up anything that might lead us to Oswald.

“Melvin’s laptop is missing,” I said to Diesel. “He was working on a ThinkPad laptop with a Spider-Man decal on it when we were here this morning.”

We walked around one more time, looking for the laptop.

“It’s not here,” Diesel said. “He probably took it with him in case he suddenly feels an urge to hack into a bank or a small country.”

We left Melvin’s apartment and Diesel drove me to my parents’ house so I could retrieve my car. I waved him off and went inside to say good night to my parents and Grandma. My father was asleep in his chair in front of the television. My mother and Grandma were on the couch, watching a movie. Grandma paused it when I walked in.

“Did you see the tongue?” Grandma asked me.

It was no surprise that she knew about the tongue. My mom and Grandma were tuned in to the Burg gossip line. As soon as I left with Morelli, Grandma would have called her friend Mable Sheidig. Mable’s daughter works police dispatch. After Grandma got the news from Mable, she would have called a bunch of other women who were related to firemen, cops, EMTs, and nurses. At this point, Grandma undoubtedly knew more about the crime scene than I did.

“I saw the tongue,” I said. “It was in a baggie.”

“That must have been something,” Grandma said. “That’s not the sort of thing you see every day.”

“What kind of person commits such a horrible crime?” my mother said. “It’s terrible.”

“It could be worse,” Grandma said. “At least he didn’t have his face shot off like Lenny Gollinni. If you’re just missing part of your tongue, you can still have a viewing with an open casket.”

The ritual of death was important in the Burg. It was your last chance to look good.

“Your laundry is in the dryer if you want to wait for it,” my mother said.

I shook my head. “I’ll get it tomorrow. I just stopped by to say good night and get my car.”

“Is Morelli out there?” my mother asked.

“No,” I said. “Someone gave me a ride. Morelli is still working.”





CHAPTER SIX


I parked in the lot to my apartment building, pushed through the back door to the small lobby, and took the stairs to the second floor. I looked down the hall and saw Melvin pacing in front of my apartment.