"Tomorrow afternoon, looks like. Might wash over to the day after, but I think we'll cut him tomorrow."

I stared at the body again. Its face had hardened with rigor into a distorted mask. One eye was closed, but the other drooped open. The skin was stretched tight over bony cheeks and the hollows of his eyes were pronounced. His mouth hung open as if he were sleeping and might wake. I wanted to close it.

Something touched me. I lurched. Diaz was watching me.

"Cole? You okay?"

"Sure. What happens next?"

Diaz stared at me another moment, then glanced at Beckett.

"Okay, Dino, we're done. I need close-ups of the body tats and his face. Something that doesn't make him look like Night of the Living Dead, okay?"

"No prob. I'll meet you at the elevator."

Beckett pushed the body away as Diaz and I peeled off our gloves, and I followed her back to the hall. When we were away from the bodies, she considered me again.

"Here is what happens: I'm going to drop the pictures back with Pardy so he can make copies, then I'm going to bed. Pardy will hand out the pictures to the patrol commander so we can try to find someone who knew this guy."

"Has Pardy ever worked a case before?"

"This is a big chance for him, Cole. Pardy came up from Metro. He's hungry, and he wants to make a name for himself. He'll be fine."

I looked back at the swinging door with the walls of bodies behind it, some that had been there for years.

"You mind if I work it?"

"Meaning what? Pardy isn't good enough, so the World's Greatest has to pitch in?"

"I want to know why he thought he was my father. Wouldn't you want to know why someone said that about you?"

"We haven't even cleared you yet."

"You'll clear me. C'mon, Diaz, think about it. I might even find the shooter."

Her eyes hardened with something I could not read deep in their dark pools. She smiled at me, but her smile held no humor, and was also unreadable. She shook her head.

"I hope you're being straight with me."

"About what?"

"I hope you're not keeping something from me, Cole."

"Like what?"

"You don't recognize him?"

"All I know is a man who told you he was my father is lying on ice."

She stared with the hard eyes, then she turned away down the hall.

"Sure, Cole. You want to look, look. You're the World's Greatest Detective. It says so in the papers."

Beckett met us at the elevator a few minutes later, and gave Diaz the pictures. She pulled off her mask, considered the picture of the dead man's face, then gave me one of the prints.

"Here. You might need this."

"Thanks."

"You can take off the mask."