In the Electric Mist With Confederate Dead (Dave Robicheaux 6)

"That's right."

"Why are you calling me?"

"I just told you."

"It's my understanding you're suspended."

"So what? Your medical findings are a matter of public record, aren't they?"

"When they become public they are. Right now they aren't public."

"Come on, Sollie. Somebody's trying to deep-fry my cojones in a skillet."

In my mind's eye I could see him idly throwing paper clips at his wastebasket.

"What's the big mystery I can clear up for you?" he said.

"What caliber weapon killed her?"

"From the size of the wound and the impact of the round, I'd say a .45."

"What do you mean 'size' ?"

"Just what I said."

"What about the round?"

"It passed through her. There wasn't much to recover. It was a clean exit wound."

"It was a copper-jacketed round?"

"That's my opinion. In fact, I know it was. The exit hole wasn't much larger in diameter than the entry."

I closed and opened my eyes. I could feel my heart beating in my chest.

"You there?" he said.

"Yes."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, Sollie. I use hollow-points."

I could hear birds singing in the trees, and the surface of the swimming pool seemed to be dancing with turquoise light.

"Anything else?" he asked.

"Yeah, time of death."

"You're crowding me."

"Sollie, I keep seeing the back of her head. Her hair had stuck to the carpet. The blood had already dried, hadn't it?"

"I can't tell you about that because I wasn't there."

"Come on, you know what I'm asking you."

"Did she die earlier, you want to know?"