Matt lowered her head, returning it to its resting position on the bed.

‘And right here,’ he continued, now indicating a spot on her neck just about where a male’s Adam’s apple would’ve been. ‘We have the second mark.’

This one was oval in shape and much smaller – about half an inch in diameter.

Hunter had already put both bruise marks together in his head. The one on the front of the victim’s neck had probably come from a thumb. The longer one on her nape from the remaining four fingers in her attacker’s hand. While choking her, the attacker had kept the fingers close together, instead of spread apart.

‘I can tell you this right now,’ Keith said. ‘Whoever strangled her had pretty big hands. He only used one. There’s nothing here to indicate a double grip.’

Hunter nodded.

‘But she didn’t die from strangulation,’ Matt added.

‘Yes, I know,’ Hunter said. ‘But it could’ve rendered her unconscious.’

‘No question about that,’ Matt agreed. ‘All that was needed was a few seconds of the right amount of pressure and she’d be out like a light.’

Hunter left the two forensics agents to carry on in the bedroom and returned to the living room. Moments later, Officer Travis re-entered the apartment.

‘Anything from the door-to-door?’ Hunter asked.

The officer pulled out his pad and flipped it open. ‘OK, this apartment is sandwiched between apartments 2811 and 2815. The neighbor in 2815, Mrs. Peers, remembers some loud shouting coming from this apartment three days ago. She said the walls here are quite thin.’

‘Time?’

‘According to Mrs. Peers it was quite late, past ten in the evening.’

‘Is she sure about that?’

‘As sure as sure can be. She said she was already in bed, and she always goes to bed at ten.’ Travis shrugged and pulled a face.

‘Could it have been the TV?’ Hunter asked.

‘I did ask her that, and she said no. She recognized Helen Webster’s voice. There was also someone else here with her – a male.’

‘Sexual noises?’

‘I asked her that as well, and again, “no”. She said that they were pretty angry shouts from both parties.’

‘OK, how about apartment 2811?’ Hunter asked. ‘Did anyone hear anything?’

‘That apartment is empty at the moment. According to Mrs. Peers, it has been empty for some time,’ Travis explained.

Hunter nodded. ‘Anyone else?’

‘Yes, but it might mean nothing.’

‘I’m listening.’

‘Mr. Grant in apartment 2808 said that he saw a tall male leaving this floor late on Monday night, the same night Mrs. Peers heard the angry shouts.’

‘Time?’

‘Around a quarter past midnight. Mr. Grant, who looks like a professional bodybuilder, was returning home after dropping his girlfriend at her place. As the elevator doors opened on this floor, the male in question almost rammed into him. Mr. Grant said that whoever the man was, he was in a hurry, and he looked nervous.’

‘Would he recognize the subject if he saw a photo of him?’ Hunter asked.

‘He said he probably would.’

‘Good job, officer.’

There was a knock on the door.

Hunter pulled it open. Standing there was a short, plump man. He had a bandido moustache and slicked-back black hair with touches of gray. Hunter couldn’t help but think that if he were wearing a sombrero, he would’ve looked like a professional mariachi.

‘Detective,’ Travis said, joining Hunter by the door. ‘This is Mr. Valdez. He’s the building’s superintendent.’

Mr. Valdez extended his hand. ‘Miguel Valdez,’ he said.

Hunter introduced himself. ‘Thank you for coming up Mr. Valdez. Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?’

‘Please, call me Miguel.’

‘OK, Miguel, did you know Ms. Webster well?’

Miguel bobbed his head from side to side.

‘Not very well,’ he said. ‘I know she was an interior designer. Very pretty and very nice – always polite. She always said “hello” whenever she saw me or my wife, and she always asked about my little girl. My little girl is five, you see? She has just started kindergarten.’

‘Congratulations,’ Hunter said with a warm smile.

‘Thank you. But that’s pretty much all I know about Ms. Webster,’ Miguel added. ‘There are thirty-five floors in this building, twenty-four apartments per floor, a lot of people, you know? And everyone is always very busy, rushing around to get somewhere or to do something.’ He shrugged. ‘Including me. There’s always something to be fixed, or cleaned, or changed, or something. When I cross a resident in the hallway, or bump into them in the elevator or somewhere, the conversations are always very quick, you see?’

Hunter nodded.

‘But you should speak to Rashana Lewis,’ Miguel said. ‘She lives in apartment 1514 on the fifteenth floor. She’s a beautician. She and Ms. Webster were friends. Rashana has many clients here in the building, including my wife, and I know that Ms. Webster was one of them too.’

‘1514, you said?’ Hunter asked.

‘That’s right.’

Hunter made a mental note. ‘Does the building have a doorman at all?’

‘No, sorry.’

‘CCTV?’

‘No,’ Miguel shook his head, a little embarrassed. ‘We don’t have that either.’

‘OK,’ Hunter said, checking his watch. ‘Thanks for your help, Miguel. I might need to talk to you again later.’

‘That’s not a problem, you know where to find me.’

As the superintendent left, Hunter’s phone rang in his pocket again.

Chapter 6

‘Robbery Homicide Detective, Robert Hunter,’ he answered it.

‘Detective, this is Daniel Figueroa from Operations. I have the information on the subject you’ve requested earlier, but I don’t seem to have an email address for you.’

‘I don’t think it has been set up yet,’ Hunter replied. Thinking about it, he probably didn’t even have a desk or a computer set up either. ‘Just tell me what you’ve got.’

‘OK,’ Daniel said. ‘Mr. Jake Goubeaux, thirty-five years old, residing in Hawthorne, number thirty-one, West 129th Street. He works as a soundman in a place called Rooster’s in West Hollywood. They have live music every night.’

‘Yes, I know the place,’ Hunter said.

‘Well,’ Daniel continued. ‘Mr. Goubeaux has been arrested five times in the past four years – twice for drunk and disorderly conduct, and three times for assault. He put an ex-girlfriend in hospital, and that cost him five months in the CSP in Lancaster. According to the judge who sentenced him, one more strike and Mr. Goubeaux is going to be gone for a long time.’

‘Great job, Daniel. Have we got a mug shot of him?’

Daniel chuckled. ‘Yeah, we’ve got about five of those. The most recent is only about a year old.’

‘Give me a sec,’ Hunter said, covering the phone’s mouthpiece with his palm. ‘Do you have a fax machine in your black and white?’ he asked Travis.

He nodded. ‘I do, yes.’

Hunter return to his phone. ‘Daniel, can you fax the most recent one of those to squad car . . .’ he looked at Travis, who mouthed the numbers eight, three, five, one, seven. Hunter repeated them down the line.

‘On its way,’ Daniel said.

‘Thanks, Daniel.’

Hunter disconnected.

‘Any developments?’ the officer asked.

Hunter quickly ran him through the news.

‘OK,’ Hunter said. ‘I need you to go down to your car, wait for the photo of Mr. Jake Goubeaux, and then return to apartment 2808 to talk to Mr. Grant again. Show him the photograph, and see if he can identify Mr. Goubeaux as the person he saw leaving this floor late on Monday night. I’m going to go down to apartment 1514 and see if I can speak with Rashana Lewis. I’ll meet you back up here in about half an hour.’