Will turned to get a plate out of the cabinet so she couldn’t read his expression, but Angie had known him since he was eight years old and she laughed anyway.
She said, “You’re such a prude, William.”
“Not much has changed in two years.”
She didn’t take the bait. Two years and a handful of months was more like it. They had been in this same kitchen, Angie screaming at him and Will looking down at his shoes while he waited for her to stop. She had stopped finally, only it was when she slammed the door on the way out.
He cubed the cheese with the knife, trying to ignore the expectant look Betty gave him. “What did you hear about what happened this afternoon?”
“Michael’s neighbor?” Angie clarified. “Not much. Just that it’s probably connected to the Monroe case.”
“The neighbor’s tongue was severed. They haven’t found it yet.”
“Why would someone go after Michael’s neighbor?”
“That’s what I was wondering.”
“Do you think it’s random?”
He leaned his back against the counter and looked at her. “Doesn’t seem likely. Does Ormewood have many enemies?”
“I’m not his best friend, but from what I can tell, the guys like him. He hangs around with that asshole Leo Donnelly a lot, so there’s no explaining his taste.”
“Were there any cases you heard about where he might have angered somebody?”
“You mean pissed them off?” She shrugged again, a new habit she’d picked up since he had last seen her. “Nothing spectacular. You really think it’s connected to Monroe?”
“The coroner’s report on the girl will be ready tomorrow. From what I could see, there were some differences.” He paused, recalling the scene in his head. “The top of her foot was scratched. She had obviously tripped over the fence. There was a wound here.” He touched his temple. “She hit a rock when she fell, pretty hard from the look of it. And the blood.” He paused again. “There wasn’t enough blood. With Monroe, the mouth filled with blood pretty quickly, enough to choke her. This kid was facedown, of course, but there wasn’t much blood on the ground. If I had to guess, I’d say her heart had stopped beating before the tongue was removed.”
“Was she raped?”
“There was bruising on her thighs, but we won’t know for certain until they get her on the table.”
“Pete Hanson’s handling this?”
“Yeah. The murder was in DeKalb County, but I asked them to let him handle the body just for continuity.” He provided, “Hanson did Aleesha Monroe this morning. He seems like a good man.” Will thought of something the doctor had raised during autopsy. “Do condoms with spermicide and lubricant cost that much more than the ones without?”
She stared at him. “Do I look like an expert?”
He knew that she probably was but did not want to have that particular discussion right now. “Monroe’s killer used a condom that had lubricant and spermicide on it. I was just curious if they cost more.”
Angie made the obvious conclusion. “He didn’t want to leave his DNA.”
“Ormewood thinks it means he didn’t intend to kill her.”
“That’s bullshit,” Angie countered. “The johns don’t bring rubbers with them. They’re not exactly worried about the girls they’re banging. You know what they call all that extra skin around the vagina? A woman.” She added, “Michael Ormewood of all people should know that.”
“Then that brings me back to the original question. Are they more expensive?”
Angie studied him for a few seconds. She knew he had never bought a condom in his life. “The girls are just like everybody else in the world: they think if something costs a little bit more then it’s better. They’ll spend the extra thirty, forty cents if they think it’ll stop hep C.”
“They’re not more worried about AIDS?”
“AIDS you can usually hide. Hepatitis turns you yellow. Leesha was one of the smart ones. She took whatever precautions she could.”
Angie looked at her hands as if she was checking her nail polish. She seldom let the job get to her—she would probably end up an alcoholic in the street if she did—but Will could see that she was struggling with this one. As much as she hated working Vice, she had a sort of kinship with the girls. They shared similar backgrounds of abuse and abandonment. She could have just as easily been one of them.
“I liked her,” Angie finally said. “Monroe. We locked her up about six times in a row last year. She was sweet. Got into the game for the usual reasons, didn’t know how to get out. I tried to get her into treatment, but you know how it is. Can’t make someone do it unless they want to.”
He tried to think of something nice to say about the dead hooker, knowing it would comfort Angie in some way. He settled on, “She was pretty.”
“Yeah, she was.” Angie stood up and walked over to Will. He kept perfectly still, foolishly expecting her to do something, but she only took a few cubes of cheese and sat back down. “I asked Michael about her this morning. He didn’t even remember her.”
“Was Monroe one of the prostitutes he interfered with?”
“No idea,” Angie admitted. “It was mostly a rumor going around with the girls. ‘There’s some cop who’ll give you a slide for some action.’ That sort of thing. I didn’t really believe it but one of them told me his name. It’s not like Ormewood’s a common name, right? I asked him about it and he didn’t deny it, so I said, ‘Lookit, either transfer out or this goes to the lieutenant.’ He took door number one.”
Will turned back around, crossing his arms over his chest. “What kind of guy is he?”
“An okay cop.” She took a bite of cheese. “For what that’s worth anymore.” She chewed, obviously thinking through his question. “Truth is, I never liked him. He was always sniffing around me, offering to show me the ropes. I told him to fuck off.”
“In your usual ladylike manner.” He tossed Betty some cheese.
“You shouldn’t feed her that,” Angie warned. “She’ll get corked up and then you’ll be sorry.”
“Moderation.”
“Don’t come crying to me when the little rat starts farting the ‘Copacabana.’ ”
Will tossed Betty another piece of cheese, though he usually limited her to one a night. “Tell me more about Ormewood.”
Angie shrugged. “I didn’t really see how much he annoyed me until he was gone. Always acting like he was the big man on campus, you know? He’s a war veteran—”
“He told me.”
“Yeah, he likes to make sure people know that about him.” She looked down at Betty suspiciously, as if the dog had already started to ferment. “Even after he transferred, he kept coming back to Vice like it was old home week. Once a week at least he was down there sniffing around, telling us about the big cases he’d caught, like being on the murder squad made his dick bigger.”
“He has a pretty good clearance rate.”
“Better than yours?”