<B>A Clean Place to Make an End of It</B><P>What intrigued Bob Gibson-----bothered him,actually.....was how clean the inside of the car was.Somone,quite possibly the dead woman herself,had vacuumed the interior rugs w/special care.<P>There wasn't a speck of dust anywhere on the dash,either,or along the steering column;even the short stalks behind the knobs on the radio had been wiped.<P>The leather cover over the gearshift box had been cleaned of the dust and grit that always collect in the creases.That had taken a wet cloth or chamois,Bob realized.So the cleaning was not just a casual,spontaneous effort.<P>It wasn't a new car.From where he was leaning into it,w/both fists pressed into the driver's seat,Bob peered a little closer at the odometer.The light wasn't all that good in the little garage,and the car had been backed in so that the waning winter daylight from the open garage door came through the windshield directly into his face.<P>Still,he could make out the figures:47,583.No,not a new car at all.But one in great shape.Bob leaned across the seat and,w/ the tip of his index finger,ticked the switch on the armrest to lower the passenger window just a bit.<P>He checked to see if the earnest young policeman at the door had noticed,but he hadn't.If he had,and objected,Bob would have argued.The smell in the car was nauseating,and he needed to relieve it by letting a bit of draft through.<P>It was a smell he'd encountered before.Not so often as to be familiar w/it.Maybe a half-dozen times or so in the past 30 years,but after the first time he'd never forgotten.It was the smell of a body in the early stages of decomposition:a hint of sweet and a hint of foul.Sickening.<P>The smell clung,too.The garage door had been open for several hours,ever since the body had been discovered earlier,around noon.But the whole building was still filled w/the odor,and Bob knew it would be a long time before the fabric in the car would be free of it.<P>Inside the car,of course,it was worse.The doors had been open only long enough for the photographer to do her grisly job,and then again when the coroner removed the body.Bob was here to tow away the car to the police pound.<P>Over his years as owner of Palgrave Motors,Bob had come to know the police very well and he was the one they invariably called in situations like this.Therefore it was not,as he had reflected only seconds before,the first time he had been called to the scene of a suicide.Nevertheless,although all he had to do was take away the car,the whole business gave him the creeps.<P>According to the coroner,the woman.......Bob didn't know her name........had backed the car into the little garage some forty to fifty hours ago,closed the door and simply sat there w/the motor running until the inevitable happened.The body had gone unnoticed for almost two days,the coroner estimated.<P>"You didn't touch anything,did you?" It was Officer Shaw.Bob hadn't heard him come in.The young policeman had been left behind by the investigating detective w/specific and stern instructions that nothing was to be disturbed.Shaw took the order seriously.<P>Bob looked at him,uncertain just how to put his suspicions.He pointed to the two-way radio in Shaw's belt.<P>"Can you call your sergeant on that?"<BR>Shaw didn't answer;he just looked at Bob curiously."Cause I think he'll want to take another look at all this," the older man said."Missed something,I think."<P><B>Why has Bob Gibson drawn this conclusion?</B><P><BR>