It looked as if the park wasn’t going to yield any worthwhile clues. A bench covered with a slick of red ice— human blood. Some tattered remnants that might have been the victim’s clothes. That was all. No body, no ID, no witnesses. And so far, no report of a missing person. The cops were waiting for orders to move them out. The precinct wasn’t going to spend much more time on this, it was just another one of those mysteries that the city tossed up. Obviously somebody had died here, but in the absence of anything except blood there wasn’t much that could be done to find the killer. “Maybe it’ll tell us something,” the Medical Examiner said as a patrolman handed him a clear plastic bag full of tattered cloth. Becky Neff said nothing. More vague evidence. Even Wilson’s experience last night was nothing but hearsay. Hell, maybe he got panicked by some dogs. The trouble was, you weren’t going to get headquarters to take a chance on the theory.
