“We haven’t gotten the complete tox back on her yet,” Oliver said. “But she didn’t have any defensive wounds. It looks like she was sedated before she was strung up.”

“Interesting,” Silver said.

“Really interesting,” Major said. “Because then the doc tells me a ‘by the way.’ I like ‘by the ways.’ It’s always something juicy. The doc says that someone might have attempted to strangle her. Since some of the swelling went down, she might have seen bruises around the neck. She said we should come over and take a look. She said, if it wasn’t an accident or it wasn’t a suicide, it could have been an attempted homicide.”

“Meaning the police should be involved,” Silver said. “We figured you should come with us to the hospital. Ordinarily I’d ask you to send a picture of Kowalski. But you’re here and she’s bruised up. You could make a better ID.”

“It may not be anything,” Major said. “But if so, you can stick around and ask your own questions about Hammerling. I can help you out with the local hotels here.”

“Hey, even if this doesn’t pan out, we owe you one,” Marge said.

“How about Delucci’s tonight?” Silver said. “I’m in the mood for Italian and the place is open until one.”

“Sounds good,” Oliver reached into his pockets and pulled out two tickets. “We were supposed to see O tonight. That’s not gonna happen. You want the tickets?”

“O’s terrific,” Silver said. “Don’t miss that.”

Major said, “Yeah, you gotta see O.”

Silver said, “Do the ID—either yes or no—and then just make the time for it. Your questions will hold for a couple of hours.”

Major said, “Yeah, the gal in the hospital isn’t going anywhere soon. It’s Vegas. You ever notice the casinos don’t have clocks? That’s because the city never sleeps.”

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

TYPING THE PARAMETERS into the computer—“homicide,” “female,” “strangulation”—Decker, Wanda, and Lee Wang pulled up a dozen unsolved but currently open cases within the jurisdiction of LAPD. When Wang entered the data into the files of the Cold Case Homicide Unit, the numbers climbed significantly. And that didn’t even factor in cases from other nearby police departments: San Fernando, Culver City, Beverly Hills, Oxnard, Ventura, San Bernardino, San Diego, and a slew of other smaller departments up and down the state. There were no shortcuts. Cases had to be reread, lead detectives had to be contacted, questions had to be asked.

Among the things they were hunting when reading the files were: Chuck Tinsley’s name as a witness or a suspect, and jewelry associated with the victims. Decker didn’t need Sherlock Holmes. He needed detectives like Wanda and Lee who could read for hours and focus on details. It was tedious work, which generally produced more headaches and eyestrain than results.