Andreas' unit was in charge of all murder investigations and any other crimes he considered serious enough to warrant special attention. It was a unique position in a politically sensitive department, one that many envied, but far more feared. He was not someone to fuck with.

'So, what do we have, Manos?' he said to the man in plainclothes hurrying toward him.

'Morning, sir. A white male, late teens, early twenties, about six feet, 160 pounds. Dead about five hours. Appears to be strangled.'

'Did anyone touch the body?'

A man from the coroner's office standing next to a forensic technician gestured 'no' with his head. 'We were waiting for you, Chief.'

Manos hesitated.

'Did anyone touch the body?' Andreas said in a slightly sharper tone looking straight at Manos.

'Yes, sir. The officer who responded to the call was a rookie and-'

'Is he here?'

'Yes.'

'Call him over.' Andreas knew from the initial report of 'no wallet or ID' that someone must have touched the body, but there was a point to be made to the rookie and his supervisor.

The young cop looked almost as white as the corpse. No doubt he was wondering to what worse precinct he possibly could be banished for this screw-up.

Andreas leveled his steel-gray eyes on him. 'You were the first one on the scene?'

'Yes, sir,' he answered nervously.

'What did you see?'

'A body in that dumpster over there.' He pointed to a partially green, partially rusted, commercial-size bin against the wall across the lot from where they stood. It was close to the street.

'Anything else?'

'No, sir.'

'And what was the first fucking thing you did, strip-search him?' Andreas' voice was rising, driving home his point.

'I thought it important to know who he was. I only touched pockets I could reach without moving the body.' His voice was about to crack.