“What is it, Joe?”

“One of the missing parts. I want to have an idea of where it was in case somebody gets sloppy.”

“Want the tape?”

“No, I’ll use my hand. Go tell Danny to watch his step in here.” Like many detectives, Leland knew the measurements of his hand. He could reckon distances to a thirty-second of an inch.

When he was done he made his way to the pillows, not touching anything, talking as he looked around. “I want a lab report on Leikman’s hair tonic, a list of the contents of the medicine cabinet, and I want to know from the autopsy when Mr. Leikman had his last ejaculation.”

“There’s a bed in the other room.”

“Okay. I want the pillow cases analyzed for hair tonic and the sheets checked for semen stains. The same for that bed, too. We’ll look at that in a minute.” In the ash tray was a cigarette butt with far more ashes than even two or three cigarettes could have made. Leland passed the information on to Schoenstein.

“The men with the flashlights are here.”

“Keep them outside. We’re still missing the thumb and the index finger. Don’t forget that. Tell everyone to watch where they’re walking. I’m coming out.”

In the living room he told the patrolmen what they were looking for, and what to cover. When they were done with the roofs and the back yards, they were to search the sewers and garbage cans for four blocks in every direction. Maule and Tanner came in and were told to take over the job of dusting for prints. Leland wanted Schoenstein for collating data.

The second bedroom, smaller than the first, was as stark as the rest of the apartment was finely furnished. Leland’s shoes crunched on the bare floor. When he took another step his shoes crunched again, grittily. He rocked his weight back and forth and stared at Schoenstein. “Too coarse for sugar.”

“Sand.”

“Scoop it up. Maybe we’ll be able to place it.”

The bed was a single with a folding metal frame, loosely made. The pillow had the same dirty stain as the other. The dresser, a cheap one, had been cleaned out, for the drawers were open and Leland could see inside them. He nudged open the closet door with his foot. On the floor, in the corner of the closet, was a lump of dark material—it seemed like wool. From the middle of the floor Leland picked up a quarter-inch crumb of black shiny material. Patent leather. He held it in his palm until Schoenstein stood up. “Something for an envelope. It might be helpful.”

Danny Curran’s flashbulbs were going off in the big bedroom. Leland waited until he came out. “I got everything. I saw that thing on the floor, too.”

“We’ll wait for you to work through here. Don’t miss the thing in the corner of the closet.”

“More?” Curran asked.

Leland shook his head. “It’s a sweater or something.” He stepped back for him. “Dave, labels on everything.”