The man looked up at him. “I am Colonel Marcel duBois, of the Home Office.”
Dino offered his hand. “How do you do?”
DuBois shook it hastily. “May I see your passports.” It wasn’t a question.
“Of course,” Dino replied, handing them over. He waved a hand at the table. “Would you like some lunch or a glass of iced tea? It’s always interesting to meet a colleague.”
DuBois looked at him sharply. “Colleague?”
“We are both police officers, are we not?”
DuBois ignored the question. “What is your business on St. Marks?”
“We are here on vacation.”
“For how long?”
“We had planned to leave tomorrow, but I understand travel has been interrupted because of a murder.”
“What do you know of this murder, Lieutenant Bacchetti?”
“Only that it occurred and that the victim was Colonel Croft. I assume you are his replacement?”
“That is so. What other details do you have of this murder?”
“None whatever, I’m afraid. In my work in New York I have specialized in homicides for many years. If I can be of any assistance, I would be happy to do so.”
“Thank you, that will not be necessary. We have the required skills and experience in our own department.”
“I’m sure you do; I just thought that an outside opinion might be helpful.”
“Opinion of what?”
“Interpretation of the evidence.”
“We do not share evidence of crimes with outsiders.”
“As you wish.”
Now duBois seemed intrigued. “What would you say of this, Lieutenant? Colonel Croft was shot while sitting in the central courtyard of the St. Marks Police Station.”
“From inside the station?”
“From outside.”
“A rifle shot, then.”
“That is our assumption.”
“Then the shooter would have needed elevation.”
“Quite.”
“And a rifle with sufficient muzzle velocity to be accurate at a distance.”
“Quite.”
“I would first look for the shooter’s location, and when I found it I would isolate the scene and look for evidence, such as cartridge casings and fibers from the shooter’s clothing. I would also look for fingerprints.”