Female? Age?”
“Male. Thirty-two. Would have turned thirty-three in June.”
The detective was impressed. “You can tell all that from…that?” He eyed the rotten, bloated corpse with disgust.
“Nope. Your lieutenant just told me. He signed a lease three months ago. All the personal details are there.”
Right on cue, the lieutenant handed his boss a single sheet of paper. It was xeroxed, and a little smudged, but the name at the top was clear. The detective stared at it, thinking. He couldn’t shake the feeling that it was a name he remembered from somewhere. But the thought slipped away, like the flesh sliding off the poor bastard’s bones.
The name on the lease was Carlos Hernandez.