“What do you think?” said Palmberg. “I’m a dedicated detective, pore over the daily stats like it’s my cholesterol report.” He rumbled a long, deep laugh. “Nah, I saw it on TV, then when I found out where this one was dumped, I started wondering. So tell me, Milo, if Muhrmann was your prime, how come he wasn’t mentioned on the news?”

“All I had on him was a feeling.”

“Feelings are good, I’ve closed a lot of cases with feelings.”

“Tell the bosses that,” said Milo. “The ruling was I didn’t have enough to go public.”

Palmberg clucked. “My bosses would probably say the same. Anyway, it wouldn’t have helped much, seeing as Muhrmann’s been down there rotting for days, maybe got nailed the same night as your Jane Doe did.”

“Jane’s got a name, now. Tiara Grundy, did some call girl work and ended up as a mistress to a Sugar Daddy.”

“Daddy on your radar?”

“Also dead, half a year ago, natural causes.”

“Boy, this town chews ’em up. What kind of natural?”

“Heart, he was pushing seventy, didn’t watch his cholesterol.”

“Any leads at all?”

“Muhrmann’s body could be a lead, Larry. He was seen with Tiara the night she died and we’re thinking she was on a date but not with him.”

He nodded at me.

I recapped the scene at the Fauborg.

Palmberg said, “Fake movie star with a fake bodyguard. Some sort of game, huh? You’re thinking another rich mark?”

Milo said, “A rich sociopath mark who colluded with Muhrmann to shoot Tiara, then took care of Muhrmann a mile later in order to tie up loose ends. Any tire tracks around here?”

“If there were any, they’re long gone.” Palmberg removed his glasses, checked the lenses, scratched away a speck of something. “Any specific candidates for this crafty death dealer?”

“We’ve been looking at the Daddy’s heirs, thinking maybe Tiara tried some extortion when she lost her means of support.”

“Rich folk like to delegate.”

“They sure do,” said Milo. “Problem with a contract killer is how do I access the money trail?”

Palmberg put his glasses back on. “Sounds like we’re both in great shape. You have problems sharing your file?”

“Soon as I get back, it’s faxed to you.”

“I’ll do the same, buddy. Once I have a file.”

They exchanged cards.

Milo said, “My file has Muhrmann’s mother’s info in there, lives in Covina, nice lady.”

“Aren’t they all,” said Palmberg. “Your lucky day, missing out on notification by a mile.”

“Aw shucks.”

“Best part of the job, huh? We talking regular nice or real nice?”

“Real nice.”

Palmberg cursed cheerfully.

Milo took in the crime scene again. “You been down there yet?”

“Twice. The second time my pants got ripped up, I had to change suits. You might think twice.”