"No," I said. "It was just Joe. Like my name is just Jack. We had a father who liked simple names. "
"OK," Jeremiah said. "Older or younger?"
"Older," I said. I gave him Joe's date of birth. "Two years older than me. "
"So he was thirty-eight?"
I nodded. Baker had said the victim had been maybe forty. Maybe Joe hadn't worn well.
"Do you have a current address for him?"
I shook my head.
"No," I said. "Washington, D. C. , somewhere. Like I said, we weren't close. "
"OK," he said again. "When did you last see him?"
"About twenty minutes ago," I said. "In the morgue. "
Jeremiah nodded gently. "Before that?"
"Seven years ago," I said. "Our mother's funeral. "
"Have you got a photograph of him?"
"You saw the stuff in the property bag," I said. "I haven't got a photograph of anything
