Both Joe and Sam agreed the woman approaching them was very attractive. They both wondered who she was. When she got past Clayton Hughes, Joe assumed she may be with the Coroner's office. He observed her as she approached, "Where's Doc Rider?" Then he recalled his appointment, "oh yea, he's Chief ME now. You must be his replacement."<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">"Hello, Inspectors, I'm Doctor Miller. It is a shame we could not have met under better circumstances."</span><br/><br/>"Well, business before pleasure. OK Sam, we'll let Doc Miller check Mr. Lopez out. We can check the Grand Hyatt, and his home."<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">Doctor Miller addressed the Police detectives, "Mister Lopez died about six hours ago. I'll have the lab run a tox screen and see if his habits may have contributed to him meeting his maker."</span><br/><br/>"Yea, probably an overdose. But that doesn't explain how he got in the water. We should follow up, to be on the safe side. We'll get the EMTs to bring the corpse back to your office. How much time you need for the autopsy? We can drop by later to see what you find? Here, take my card. Cell number's on there. Give me a call when you're done. We'll swing by and see what you find."<br/><br/>Sam Rhyu looked around the shoreline. There were no signs of a struggle here, no blood or scuff marks; only the drag marks from the water to the rocky beach. "This is not the crime scene," Sam spoke aloud.<br/><br/>"How do you know a crime was committed?" Joe asked Sam.<br/><br/>"Assuming it is not an OD, 43-year old men don't drop dead for no apparent reason."<br/><br/>"You're right. There probably is more to it. Why don't we go check is address?" Joe pulled the man's keys from his pockets as he inventoried his possessions. He gathered everything into a Ziploc bag and identified it as property belonging to Gabriel Lopez, 12/31/72 of 640 Francisco St.<br/><br/>After the ambulance crew transported the body to the medical examiner's office, Joe and Sam drove to the North Beach residence. They parked out front and made their way into the man's second floor apartment. When they entered the residence, they found a young Hispanic male of about 23 years of age. The young man wore sweats and a thick golden braid of a necklace around his neck. He wore short hair with a goatee. He immediately recognized Sam and Joe as police officers. He quickly stood up and yelled, "get out of my house!" The young man looked around for a way out, but could not find one.<br/><br/>"Hello," the police inspector said casually. "I am inspector Joe Beaulieu, San Francisco PD. This is my partner, Sam Rhyu. Who are you?"<br/><br/>"Diego Alvarez," he spoke with hesitation.<br/><br/>"What are you doing here?" Sam asked.<br/><br/>"I live here," Alvarez answered.<br/><br/>"Show me some ID."<br/><br/>Diego reached for his wallet as the two inspectors placed their hands over the grips of their Smith & Wesson .40 caliber handguns. You never know if the person you are speaking to is going for his wallet or his pistol. Mr. Alvarez produced a navy blue nylon and Velcro wallet. He opened it up and produced his California State Driver's license.<br/><br/>Sam took the license from him, reading the address and information on the face. "Ok, so you live here. Do you know Gabriel Lopez?"<br/><br/>"Yea, he's my uncle."<br/><br/>"When is the last time you saw him?"<br/><br/>"Yesterday some time," Diego appeared nervous. "He didn't come home last night."<br/><br/>"Are you close to your uncle?"<br/><br/>"Yea, he took me in when I didn't have a place to stay. My mom wouldn't let me stay at her place no more."<br/><br/>Joe thought to himself that Diego was going to have to find a new place to crash now. "Diego, I have some bad news to tell you. We found your uncle Gabriel this morning at Black Point Battery. He was face down in the water. He'd been dead for at least six hours when we found him. I am very sorry for your loss."<br/><br/>The young man had a sullen look on his face. He sat down placing his elbows upon his thighs, face in hands, staring at the floor. Sam spoke up first, "Diego, is there anyone you may know of that would want to do harm to your uncle?"<br/><br/>Diego shook his head no.<br/><br/>"Diego, did you know your uncle was a recreational drug user?" Joe asked.<br/><br/>Diego looked up at Joe with an accusatory look on his face, "What the fuck is that supposed to mean!?"<br/><br/>"Diego, I don't mean anything by it. Sometimes when people get mixed in with the wrong crowd, they make poor decisions and one thing leads to another."<br/><br/>Diego slumped back down, "yea, I knew he used coke. But he kicked that habit. He was gettin` counseling and going to NA. He's been clean for a month now. It has been rough, but he seemed happy about how things were going." Diego looked at the floor and then back up at the police inspectors. "No, I don't know who would want to hurt him."<br/><br/>"Do you mind if we look through his things?" Sam asked and Diego helped the inspectors by showing him where to look, not giving them permission to look through his things.<br/><br/>Their search turned up a name and phone number to his sponsor and the name and number of his addiction counselor. They found photographs of a wife and two children who Diego confirmed were his ex-wife and estranged children. They lived in Piedmont, across the bay. Sam also found photographs of Gabriel's SEAL Platoon in the Navy. Joe and Gabriel had never met, but obviously swam in similar circles.<br/><br/>"Let's head over to the Grand Hyatt and see what we can uncover there?" Joe stated to Sam.<br/><br/>"Sure thing, boss. Mind if I drive?" Sam suggested with a sly grin.<br/><br/>"Like hell! You're not touching Matilda!" Sam threw up his hands with a smile feigning surrender.<br/><br/>The Dodge Charger pulled up in front of the hotel. A valet parking attendant walked over. The two inspectors flashed their badges, shaking their heads, no. The attendant backed off, sure to complain about San Francisco's finest taking over a Valet parking spot.<br/><br/>Sam approached the clerk at the front desk, flashed his badge, "can you tell me where the manager is?"<br/><br/>The attractive blonde haired woman with dark brown eyes flashed a pretty smile and pointed to a six foot two inch man with graying black hair standing near the bank of elevators behind them. The manager obviously heard the inspector making himself available with a warm inviting smile.<br/><br/>"Good afternoon, sir. I'm Inspector Beaulieu. This is Inspector Rhyu. Is there someplace private we could talk?"<br/><br/>"Sure, I'm Mike Czarniecki, manager of the Grand Hyatt. Follow me."<br/><br/>After closing the door, Joe asked the question, "Do you know Gabriel Lopez?"<br/><br/>"Yes, sir. He's one of our managers. Is he in trouble?"<br/><br/>"You could say that. His body washed ashore at Black Point Battery this morning."<br/><br/>The man took a step back. His face overcome with shock. "How did this happen?"<br/><br/>"That's what we are trying to figure out. How long have you known Mr. Lopez?" Sam asked.<br/><br/>"About five years. He's a good man, a conscientious worker. A strong leader, too. If he didn't know the answer to a problem, he found out and got back to the employee as soon as possible. The staff looked up to him."<br/><br/>"Did you know he had a drug problem?"<br/><br/>"Yes, it was well known at the hotel. But his positive traits outweighed his negative habits."<br/><br/>"Did you ever see him using at work?"<br/><br/>"Me personally, no. You may want to check with the receptionist staff. They worked more closely with him than I did. We spent more time working opposite shifts. Occasionally we had some overlap or the hotel would put two or three managers on during a busy weekend during a convention or something."<br/><br/>"Do you know of anyone who would want to harm Mr. Lopez?" Joe asked.<br/><br/>"No, I cannot think of anyone. Like I said, he was well liked here."<br/><br/>"Thank you, Mr. Czarniecki. If you can think of anything, could you give us a call?" Joe handed the manager his business card. The two inspectors showed themselves out. They had a brief conversation with Carly Hopewell at the receptionist that uncovered nothing. Sam got her phone number, but nothing to help discover how Mr. Gabriel Lopez met his demise.<br/><br/>Next they headed back to the station on Bryant St. Fortunately, the Coroner's office is in the same building. They could make some phone calls to Lopez's counselor and sponsor as well as begin writing their report on finding Mr. Lopez, while waiting for the call from Dr. Miller.