I don’t know how long the dead guy had been there. I hadn’t seen him the night before, but I’d been tired and snow had been falling. By the time I’d discovered him laying in the alley on my walk to work, his shoes had been stolen.
From the look of the rest of him, they had probably been expensive.
“Let me guess. Good-looking, right? Tattoo? Alley off Pearl, north of Long?”
“That’s the one.” Yeah, even dead, I’d noticed the guy had been hot, and I’d peeked at the unusual tangle of snakes inked on his forearm as I rummaged through his pockets looking for identification. But if he’d had a wallet, it was long gone, like the shoes.
“That tattoo, is that a gang thing?”
“Nah. Probably one of the eastern covens.” The cop didn’t sound as if he found it particularly interesting, like he couldn’
