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identified himself as Private William Lance Jones. His thick hair and beard appeared wild and unkempt. His eyes were bloodshot and several of his front teeth were broken.
    “Did you notice any unusual cars or people hanging around the alley?” Song asked
    Private Jones rubbed his beard and thought about the question. “Naw, not really.”
    “So you didn’t see the person who tossed the bag in the dumpster?” Mattice said.
    “No, I didn’t see nobody!”
    ‘When did you find the bag?” Song asked.
    “I found that bag yesterday. I saw the shirt first…” Private Jones paused. His eyes became as big as two saucers and he whispered, “And then the gun.”
    “So if we run the gun, we’ll find your prints?” Song said.
    Private Jones looked down at the floor. “Yeah, I touched it, but I didn’t shoot nobody.”
    Song and Mattice looked at each other in agreement.
    “Private Jones, the NYPD appreciates your help, so we’re going to give you a one night stay at Allison’s motor court. Also, I want you to report to this address tomorrow. My friend Gail runs a soup kitchen and a half- way house exclusively for veterans. Mattice handed him a card with all the information.
    “Private Jones, do you want something to eat? How about we take a ride and get some food over at Annie’s Diner,” Song said.
    They drove downtown. They went in Annie’s Diner and sat down in one of the booths.
    “How about some soup, Private Jones,” Song asked.
    “Can I have a turkey and cheese sandwich with mayo too?”
    Mattice politely called the waitress over and placed the order. She looked at Private Jones with disdain. The look didn’t go unnoticed by Song and Mattice.
    “You know, Randi,” Song said, reading the waitresses name tag, “Private Jones here is a hero; he fought for his country defending our freedom. So, why don’t you throw in a nice big slice of apple pie too?”
    The waitress realized her mistake and said, “How about a big helping of whipped cream on top? I’ll be right back with your order, sir.”
    Private Jones finished the entire bowl of soup, the sandwich and the pie. He left the diner with quite a big smile on his face.
    Mattice and Song dropped Private Jones off at the motel. Mattice knew the owner and told Song, “This dude owes me a favor; I helped him out with his troubled son. You know, I did a ‘scared straight’ routine on him. The kid is now getting good grades and will be graduating in June.”
    “Let’s check in with the lab and see if they recovered anything useful we collected,” Song said.
    Mattice looked at his watch. “Why, you have somewhere to go?”
    Song smiled and said, “Maybe I do.”

 
    Chapter 23
     
    Brooklyn was just getting out of the shower when her intercom buzzed.
    “Yes, Ernie?”
    “Miss Pierce, there’s a Detective Kai here to see you.”
    “Please, send him up.”
    She heard the elevator ascending and ran to her bedroom and slipped on her robe.
    Song stepped off the elevator dressed in a black blazer, cranberry colored shirt and black slacks. He was carrying a gift bag. He rang the bell and heard Brooklyn running across the floor.
    She opened the door wearing a pink kimono style robe.
    “Hey there, sorry, I’m running a little late. I’ll be out in a second. Help yourself to a drink and I have some cheese and crackers on the island.” She didn’t give him a chance to respond she rushed to her bedroom.
    “Just take your time,” Song said.
    He glanced around the spacious apartment. It was neat and nicely decorated in pastel pinks, purples and yellows. Contemporary paintings hung on the walls and family photographs sat upon her mantel. Brooklyn’s refrigerator was overflowing with drawings by children.
    “Do you mind if I have a glass of wine?” Song asked.
    ‘”No, go ahead; the wine glasses are in the cabinet above the sink.”
    Song poured two glasses of wine. He picked his glass up and continued to explore the apartment. He decided not to