Zack watched Carmen and Gar head sullenly bad across the street to the news vans parked in fron of the sloping hills of Forest Lawn. The cemetery stretched along the lip of the river running for almos three miles, fronted by Forest Lawn Drive.

"Least they won't have to carry the stiff far to bury him," Zack noted dryly.

"Quality observation," I growled as I looked down into the culvert at three cops and paramedics standing a few yards from the body.

Zack and I started along the lip of the hill, looking for the crime scene egress that I hoped the uniforms had been smart enough to lay out and mark for us.

As soon as we started walking, the pack of video predators across the street got active. They switched on their lights and moved parallel to us, gunning off shots as we headed toward Barham, looking for a pre-marked path.

"We're gonna have to start wearing makeup," Zack grumbled, sipping at the last of his coffee.

"Homicide Special," I called out to the group of uniforms standing down on the levee. "You guys mark a footpath?"

"Go further left. It's all flagged," one of the Blue yelled back.

Zack and I picked our way along the ridge, being careful not to step on anything that might later qualify as evidence. We found the trail marked by little orange flags on the ends of metal spikes. Everybody coming and going from now on would use this path down to the levee. The idea was, by using a remote trail to the crime scene we would limit unnecessary contamination of the site.