That could take a while then, couldn't it? Although I don't expect they have to wait for the labs and junk, being as how they take the lab-worthy stuff away.ETA: Eh, I've probably contaminated a lot of the scene by having my intrepid witness' stomach be less than intrepid upon discovering the battered body of the vic. I thought to have her not fall apart in some way would be Mary Sue-ish.

Erika, that's a tried and true method. I believe one of the things the other characters used to twit Anita Blake for was that she supposedly threw up on a body one of her first times on the scene.

Giardello was "Gee" because that was what he said on his first murder. Twenty-five years later, still Gee.Yeah, I figured, unlike me, she could hold back the tears and verbalizing, but we both have traitor stomachs. Otherwise, SuperCrip, ugh. (Let's hope I can restrain myself from giving her ardeur, shall we? So far I'm safe. She's hot for a married man that won't leave his wife, and her crazymaking client.)

erika, why aren't you ringing up the PR section of the Phoenx PD and asking these questions?

San Francisco and London can't be the only urban centres whose police have people delighted to share that information, surely?

It will probably be easier now that I have more specific questions.(Being that I was unwilling to actually kill to get face time.) I should track that down Monday. I think I ran into "Is anyone dead? Then she's not ours." But PIO's are *supposed* to answer stupid questions, uh, I mean "sincere inquiries from the public."

What I did was, I called the main number and asked for "community relations" or whatnot. I explained that I was a writer, with some specific questions about a) how homicides were handled, b) who handled them, and c) some verisimilitude questions, such as jargon and slang.

I ended up with Lieutenant Jerry McCarthy, and also with a visit to forensic pathology (I discovered I was cool with the bits in the jars, although the dead guy on the slab with the toe tag didn't thrill me much) and a drivearound.

This was for Still Life With Devils.

But you have also never sounded awkward a day in your life, and I do all the time. And I have no credits that would make anybody think I was anything other than some Emma Zoole death groupie. Still I suspect there is no way around it.Not responsibly anyway...I just wanted to not hold up the writing, but... Could be worse, I am better to talk to than some whack-job who confesses to everything. Slightly.

Erika, they'll be happy to talk to you, and if they aren't, then maybe another city will be more helpful. If they aren't helpful, it's not you, it's them.

What city is the book set in, Erika? Procedures do vary a good deal. I suspect they'll be happy to help you, but if you don't get any response, I can check with my cop ex and see if he has any ideas. He participates in some law enforcement online communities, so he may know someone.

Mine. Phoenix. (I already feel that something Beautiful and Heartfelt that I wrote yesterday may be cut for believability, but I couldn't stop myself from doing it anyway.) We don't have culture or decent public transit, Deena, but we must have bodies up the ying, is all I can figure.
(And I'm not even writing about the...cooperative relationship enjoyed at earlier times in the city's history between police and madams...if they're this rough on a wanna-be Pelecanos, I can't imagine what wanna-be Ellroys must be suffering right now, but they're probably used to it.)

"Homicide--the one thing this country's still good at." Steve Crosetti, a buon anima.