That’s when the lost cause was punted to Larkin’s desk. And in a city of nine million, Everett Larkin stood alone, unmoored. The only one who hadn’t forgotten—couldn’t forget—those 9,022 lost souls. Their case numbers were a memento mori by which he mourned. Each day was an anniversary of another victim awaiting justice, and yes, Detective Millett, Larkin wanted to say, I know every single one.

“When you take samples—” Larkin paused when he caught sight of a man standing near the yellow tape, looking out of place. “—please take some of the crate too.”

“You’re going to have to fight the department to pay for that test.”

“Take the sample.” Larkin detached from Millett. He flicked his wrist in a quick, come-hither motion to the older man, who pointed to himself in confirmation, spoke to a nearby uniformed officer, and then was allowed under the tape. “Detective Everett Larkin, Cold Case Squad,” he said as the stranger hurried to join him under the tent.

“Harry Regmore, Parks and Recreation. I, uh, I called in the—erm….”

“Body.”

“Yeah.” Harry adjusted the brim of his torn-to-hell Mets ballcap. A pair of UV safety glasses were perched on top.

Larkin was already cataloguing everything about Harry Regmore in that uncontrollable, compulsive manner that had, at least in part, turned his burden into the foundation of what made Larkin a good cop. Harry was middle-aged and built like an ox, with dark, dark eyes in a face that hadn’t seen enough protection from the sun. He wore a flannel shirt in what Larkin decided to refer to as Lumberjack Red, Levi’s with some black staining strictly below the knees, and boots—steel-toed, most likely. Harry’s eyes cut toward Millett on Larkin’s left, and he swallowed hard. He retrieved a pair of dirty, well-used gloves from his back pocket, unfolded and refolded them, then returned them to the pocket.

Larkin said, “Death makes some people nervous.”

Harry chuckled a little. “I’ve seen death before, detective. Grew up in the Bronx in the ’70s.”

“Then why are you anxious.”

“Huh? No. It’s just early, you know? Only had one cup of coffee, and then this whole—”

“Don’t lie.”

Harry pulled his gaze away from the scene and asked, “You’re not gonna run a drug test, are you?”