Fifteen minutes later, Deputy Blake was walking into Dennis Tibble’s apartment.
A patrolman in the living room was talking to the building superintendent. “Where’s the body?” Blake asked.
The patrolman nodded toward the bedroom. “In there, sir.” He looked pale. Blake walked to the bedroom and stopped, in shock.
A man’s naked body was sprawled across the bed, and Blake’s first impression was that the room was soaked in blood.
As he stepped closer to the bed, he saw where the blood had come from.
The ragged edge of a broken bottle had punctured the victim’s back, over and over again, and there were shards of glass in his body.
The victim’s testicles had been slashed off. Looking at it, Blake felt a pain in his groin.
“How the hell could a human being do a thing like this?” he said aloud.
There was no sign of the weapon, but they would make a thorough search.
Deputy Blake went back into the living room to talk to the building superintendent. “Did you know the deceased?”
“Yes, sir. This is his apartment.” “What’s his name?” “Tibble. Dennis Tibble.” Deputy Blake made a note.
“How long had he lived here?” “Almost three years.” “What can you tell me about him?” “Not too much, sir.”
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