Death in the Primrose Hotel – Chapter 6

I phoned Tom Forsythe.
“Forsythe,” he said as he answered the phone.
“Jake Curtis here,” I said.
“How are you doing?” Tom Forsythe asked.
“Fine,” I said. “Vanessa and I are planning to be up there either Wednesday or Thursday afternoon, probably Thursday. I was wondering if the state lab people found out anything about the skeleton?”
“As a matter of fact they have,” Tom Forsythe said. “From the bone structure the lab boys officially confirmed what the ME said in the speakeasy; that our skeleton was a male and the lab boys also said that he was five ten to six feet tall. They think he’s been dead seventy years, give or take a few and probably murdered. The center of the forehead is not the usual place where people off themselves. It’s a very inconvenient position to try and press the barrel against. It forces the wrist in an very unnatural, uncomfortable and unstable shooting position.”
“So he could have been there since, say, December 1933?” I asked.
“December 1933?” Tom Forsythe
“The end of Prohibition,” I said.
“Could be,” Tom Forsythe said.


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