THE BACK PASSENGER door to the cruiser was open, a uniform standing in front of the space, keeping watch over her charge as well as the set of wheels. If Decker squinted, he could see a figure huddled in the backseat, his arms wrapped around his body as if his arms were straps on a straitjacket. As Decker approached the car, he nodded to the police officer and pointed to the open door. The cop bent down and spoke to the huddled man. When he emerged, Tinsley was average height, a tank of a fellow with long, muscular arms, dark eyes, a strong chin, and a face of controlled stubble. The officer led him to Decker, who glanced at her tag.

“Thank you, Officer Breckenridge, I’ll take it from here.” He extended his hand to the foreman, whose complexion was ashen behind the darkening of beard. He had brown eyes, a Roman nose, and thin lips. His hair was a nest of cowlicks. He appeared to be in his thirties. “Lieutenant Peter Decker.”

“Chuck Tinsley.” His voice was deep but held a slight tremble. “This is…I’m a little freaked out.”

“I do this for a living and I’m a lot freaked out,” Decker said.

Tinsley laughed nervously. “If you see a pile of vomit, it’s probably mine.”

“How’s your stomach now?” Decker asked.

He held up a soda can. “Someone was nice enough to give me this. I think it was the lady cop. I’m a little confused.”

Decker pulled out his notebook. “Why don’t you tell me what happened?”

“Nothing much to tell. I came early to clean up before the contractor arrived.” He bit his lip. “I saw the body.”

“Can we back it up for a minute?”

“Sure?”

“When did you get to the site?”

“Around quarter to.”

“Quarter to what?”

“Oh, quarter to two. One forty-five.”

“And when were you supposed to meet the contractor.”

“Around three-thirty, four.”

Decker looked at his watch. It was nearly three now. “You came early?”

“Yeah, to clean up. You know how it is with construction crews,” Tinsley said. “They throw their shit all over the place. I try to get them to clean up at the end of the day, but if it’s been a hard one, I let it go. It’s easier to clean up by myself when they’re not here. That’s what I was doing. With the inspection coming, you need a clean site.”

“So you came at one forty-five and…what did you immediately start doing?”

“Cleaning up stuff. Picking up nails, piling up loose lumber, gathering up tools left behind, throwing away trash…lots of trash.”

“Did you have a trash bag with you?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Where is the bag now?”

Tinsley’s eyes narrowed in confusion. “Not sure. Probably I dropped it when I saw the body.”

“When you noticed the body, how long had you been at the site?”