RANSVESTIA

there are two bullet holes in the back we'll know more when the M.D. gets here. No robbery - the ruby earrings she's wearing are worth a couple of grand. None of the immediate neighbors heard shots."

Hamilton sat on the bed and looked wearily at his young colleague. "Did you make her yet?" he asked.

"I.D. found tucked away in a purse, also stashed away in the war- drobe, belonged to a Jenny Lucas. There was a bill addressed to Mr. and Mrs. Ryan N. Lucas." Ellis broke off as Roy Curves, cigarette as always between his lips, came banging his way into the bedroom. "But this apartment is rented to a P. Vane."

Hamilton stood up. "We need time of death fast, doc," he said without preamble.

Curves sighed wearily and sat on the bed in the same spot that Hamilton had vacated. He dropped the heavy cases beside the bed. "I've been on the run all night in the East," he grumbled. "Three homicides last night and one at the Eastgate at six this morning. You'll get everything as soon as I have it."

Hamilton looked at the fatigue in the young doctor's face and nodded. He took Ellis by the arm, leading him off into the living room. "Fingerprints?" he asked.

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Ellis shrugged. "Too soon to tell." He paused, nervously. "The address of the Lucases is a house on Fremont Way. I've been trying the number all morning with no luck."

Hamilton nodded. "Keep trying," he said. "We'll hold her under a Jane Doe until a positive I.D. is made."

Just then, Curves came to the bedroom door. "Hey, Bud," he call- ed to Hamilton. "Come here a minute and look at this."

"Try the Lucas number again," said Hamilton to Ellis, going back himself to the bedroom.

Ellis dialed the number, only to hear the same ringing tone again in his ear. Hamilton came back and stood beside him, rubbing his chin

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