Case 30 - An Old Leaf Part 3


    Keiko hadn’t been involved with the police department for quite a while.  She was once Sean’s detective partner, but he had a new one now, who she barely met.  The man who was her boss at the time was now running for political office, and someone new had that job too.  Sean’s career as a detective was now completely separate and distant from her.

    Until now, at least.  Sean’s partner wasn’t there, but his new boss was.  She waited in her friend’s car, engine running to keep it cool.  Watching intently while Sean talked to his boss, just on the other side of a police line.  His boss looked like he was ex-military - nearly shaved head with greying spikes of hair on it, black rimmed glasses, and very tall and well built.

    Sean returned to the car looking a little dejected.  He opened the driver’s side door and stuck his head in.  “I told him you’re a detective.  He says he’ll give you five minutes in the scene if you wear gloves and don’t touch anything or step on anything.”

    Keiko nodded.  She was always prepared for the gloves provision - she pulled her leather gloves out of the small purse she brought with her.  The purse itself was a red herring in terms of valuables.  She carried her wallet on her person, the purse just contained items she used for work, such as those gloves, a small toolkit, and a sheathed knife.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“After that,”  Sean added as Keiko climbed out of the passenger side and put on her gloves, “He says we can use the mobile command center while I do the paperwork, until they need it.”

    He pointed to what looked like a black painted cargo van marked ‘GCPD’.  Keiko had been in one of those before - it was equipped inside like a very small office, and mercifully, air conditioning.

    It was needed that day.  During the daytime it started heating up quickly, as early summer made its presence known in Garden City.

    The crime scene itself, Keiko didn’t know much about.  Just that it was a residential apartment in a neighborhood that wasn’t the kind showcased in Garden City vacation brochures.  The lawn had bare patches, the porch smelled funny, and the door was grimy.  

    Of course since Keiko wasn’t allowed to touch anything, it made little difference to her.  The door was propped open, she now wore gloves, and Sean even asked her to wear elastic latex covers for her shoes, to avoid tracking anything into the scene.

    She followed Sean in, and up the narrow stairs just inside the doorway.  There were still people living in the building, she could hear them talking and playing music behind the closed apartment doors.

    The apartment in question was on the second floor.  It had a sheet of blurry, slit heavy plastic hanging over the door to keep out the eyes of passers by, and to give the investigators inside some privacy.  

    Keiko followed Sean in.  It was quite an advantage to be much smaller than the average cop, as she had to squeeze around a few people.  While Sean had to shove his way through, she could slip through silently.

    Finally, there was an area where it seemed like the crime occurred.  A dark red stain on the dirty beige carpet, and furniture pushed around or turned over in the vicinity.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“They say there was a struggle, and someone was shot.”  Sean summarized.  “The crime scene team took a 40 caliber casing from over there.”  

    He pointed to a little red card, bent in half and placed on the carpet.  It had a silver number scrawled on it.  It was about ten feet away.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Where did it bounce?”  Keiko asked.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Bounce?”  Sean asked.  The other detectives in the room were busy dusting the doorknobs for fingerprints, and weren’t really paying attention.

    She spun around to look at the furniture layout.  “Casings generally  don’t fly that far, and there’s a carpet, so it couldn’t have bounced off the floor.  It would have to bounce off something else to go that far away.  Unless the shooter was standing right there.  But then how would there be a struggle?”

    Keiko stepped backwards carefully until she stood directly over the little red card, overlooking the red stain.  

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“No.”  she whispered, and shook her head as she moved again.  Then she stood in front of the door, and her mouth hung open.  “Did anyone check how much blood the body lost?”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“I...don’t think so.”  Sean replied.  “We can check the file when we get to the mobile command.  Why do you ask?”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“I think there are two dead.”  Keiko whispered to Sean.  “One was stuffed in a bag and dragged out of here, disturbing the furniture.  The other...was a witness.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Where’s the other casing?”  Sean asked.  “Unless the killer--”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“--picked it up.  Yes.”  Keiko finished.  “Because he couldn’t give away that there were two killed.”

    Sean paused for a moment, and then finally said in a quiet voice, “You know all this because...it’s what you would have done?”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Yes.”  Keiko whispered.  “It’s what I would have done.  This is someone clever.  We’re not going to find much evidence here.  The bullet will be a dead end, too.”

    
---


    The Mobile Command Center was most simply described as a mobile home crammed into a large cargo van.  Keiko was actually a little amazed at what they managed to cram in.

    She and Sean ascended a short metal staircase to the center of the van, just behind the cab.  Just at the top was a narrow door that opened outward.  Once inside, she noticed that the floor was covered with rough office carpet, and every surface with wood paneling.

    Just to the left was a short ladder, and a small low-ceilinged curtained off box, above the driver’s cab, where up to two people could nap for refreshment during long hostage situations - it gave the police an advantage if they were more rested than the suspects.

     To the right was a table with swiveling chairs, and a few cabinets storing various items.  She was a little impressed that they managed to install narrow, heavily tinted bulletproof windows along the whole length of the place.  At the far wall of the van were various computers, instruments, and surveillance systems.

    Sean picked up the two case files, complete with photographs, and tossed them onto the table.  He offered Keiko a seat next to the wall, which she graciously took.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“This is all the information we have on the case, both from the crime scene and from the labs, so far.”  Sean said.  “If you don’t mind, I’d like you to see if you can find anything we can use.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Okay.”  Keiko sighed as she slid one of the folders closer.  She began leafing through it.  As boring as analysis was, it used to be part of her old job, too.  A smart assassin would never go in unprepared.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“I heard about a shooting in Amsterdam.”  Sean spoke quietly while Keiko looked through the folder.  He was hoping to get a reaction from her, but she didn’t seem to go for it.  “It happened while you were there.  The news said it looked like a professional hit.”

    Still, Keiko didn’t react.  She had been much better trained than that.  Sean was a police detective, and couldn’t help testing people for a reaction he could read into.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“I just wondered if you heard anything about that.”  Sean quickly backpedaled.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“No.”  she replied quietly as she read.  “I didn’t really pay attention to the news.”  Then she changed the subject by spreading out two of the files.  “Do these two people know each other?”

    Sean moved around to Keiko’s side of the table to see better, and he could immediately see what she meant.  There were two men who shared very similar criminal records.  Not the same dates, or the same charges, but very close, like they were in business together and ended up busted together.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“How come nobody noticed this before?”  Sean wondered to himself.  It was a pretty good motive - one of those two men in those folders was dead, the one shot in the apartment.  That made the other one either the second dead person, or the prime suspect.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Neither of them are professional killers.”  Keiko noted.  “So the second guy is either smart, lucky, or dead.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“If either of them were smart, they would be in a much nicer apartment.”  Sean pointed out.  “With all the money scams they ran in the past.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“True.”  Keiko nodded.  “If I had to guess...I’d say both of these guys are dead.  So you should concentrate on finding the second body, it can’t be far from here.  And then find someone they either owed money to, or have been stealing from.”

    Sean smiled, and laughed.  “I really miss working with you.”  he said.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Don’t give that thought up yet.”  Keiko replied.  “I think we should do some investigating on our own.  I have feeling your colleagues are going to dismiss my theories without hard evidence.  Are you up for it?”

    Sean nodded.  “Let me talk to the boss, and then we’ll go.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Fair enough.”  Keiko stood quickly, and sounding all business, she added,  “I’ll wait in the car.”


TO BE CONTINUED
    


-- Story written and copyrighted (C) 2008 by Jason Froikin, and may not be 
--    reprinted without permission.  
-- World Class and all characters therein are property of 
--    Strike Two and Jason Froikin.

It's an interesting dynamic their relation has set up...  I'm curious to see how they work together now.