“Yeah.”

“No wallet, I suppose? Keys? Anything?”

“Not a thing.”

“Great. John Doe for sure.”

“Doc-”

“Yeah?” Holliday said distractedly, turning the head back gently.

“What about the pants?”

“What about them?”

“I mean, what the hell is a guy doing in the park at night with his pants down?”

“What would anybody be doing? Taking a leak, probably.”

“No. You don’t pull your pants down below your knees to take a leak.”

Holliday looked at him, amused. “You’ll make detective yet, Tommy. Sounds right to me.”

“Well, then-”

“Look, a guy’s out at night in the park bushes. He’s got his pants down and his head kicked in. What the hell do you think happened?”

“You mean like that guy in Albuquerque? We never had nothing like that here.”

“We do now. Pretty sight, isn’t it?” Holliday said, gesturing toward the man’s groin. “Looks like he’s been kicked there too.” He moved the testicles to one side with the stick. “A little discolored, don’t you think?”

“I wouldn’t know.”

“Well, what color are yours? Come to think of it, maybe they’re blue too. Anyway, they shouldn’t look like this. He’s circumcised, by the way.”

“I noticed.”

“I mean for the report.”

“Oh,” O’Neill said, jotting it down. “Time of death?”

“We’d better let the doc tell us that. You got rigor, but I don’t know what effect the rain would have on that. Cold too, last night.”

“I can’t remember that far back,” O’Neill said, wiping his forehead in the unexpected heat.

“This is interesting,” Holliday said, poking tentatively at the man’s mouth. “He’s got a full plate here. No teeth at all. Kinda young for false teeth.”

O’Neill shrugged.

“Well, now at least we got a motive. Probably isn’t used to them and bit down too hard on the guy’s dick.”

“Jesus, Doc.”