Her body hadn’t turned up; he had lost track of the inquiry in the press of other problems, but he’d get back to it tomorrow. “As I recall, the release form wasn’t signed. It’s the trouble with these job sinkholes the county runs. Most of our staff is good, but we always have some who are there because their daddies hustle votes or move bodies for the mob. I’ve turned her disappearance over to the sheriff for an investigation, but a dead convict who was illegal to begin with doesn’t rank very high—family isn’t in a position to make a stink, and anyway, if they’ve been able to conduct a funeral they’re not going to want to.”

I don’t think this family has held a funeral. I haven’t seen them myself. In fact, I don’t know where they are, but a guy named Morrell has been interviewing immigrants in Aguinaldo’s old neighborhood. He says you know him, by the way.”

“Morrell? He’s a great guy. I know him from my work on torture victims in the Americas. He pulled me out of one of the worst traps I ever walked into, in Guatemala. Nothing he doesn’t know about the Americas and torture. I didn’t realize he was in town. Tell him to call me. I have to run.” He climbed into his car.

I leaned in before he could shut the door. “But, Bryant—Morrell talked to Aguinaldo’s mother. She didn’t even know her daughter was dead, so she definitely doesn’t have the body.”

He stared at me in bewilderment. “Then who does have it?”

“I was hoping you could help on that one. If the form wasn’t signed, is there a chance the body is still in the morgue? Maybe the tag got taken off or changed. The other possibility is that a Chicago police officer named Lemour got the body. Do you think there’s any way to find out?”

He turned the ignition key. “Why would—never mind. I suppose it could have happened. I’ll ask some more questions tomorrow.” He pulled the door shut and shot past me out of the lot.

I walked back slowly to the Rustmobile. I wished Vishnikov hadn’t turned the investigation over to the sheriff’s office. If anyone was covering up for the disposal of Nicola’s body, the sheriff’s office was probably knee–deep in how it was done. But I had enough going on without trying to run an inquiry at the morgue.

I went home to take the dogs for a swim and to let my neighbor know I’d be in Georgia for a few days. I also called my answering service, telling them to hand any problems over to Mary Louise until Monday.