Shoot Not to Kill

by Daniel L Stephenson

  Michelle pulled her card from her pocket and read Clinker his rights.

  “Can it, bitch,” Clinker snarled.

  Colin pulled up a phone and dialed a number. He hung up without talking and dialed again. Placing another call, he said, “Doreveck, page him for me. Call me. Check the number. Yeah, that’s it. OK. Tell him it’s urgent.”

  Colin hung up and started to gather the contents of Clinker’s pockets into a bag he had pulled from the desk. He used the same type of bag that he often had used in the inventory of Clinker’s victims. He did not study these closely, but watched Clinker. Colin placed the contents of Bishell’s pockets into the bag along with the samples Michelle had dropped. Colin quickly cleared the chamber and magazine of Bishell’s pistol and put them into the inventory bag as well.

  Clinker seemed sedated, but Colin could tell he was testing his restraints. Colin walked over and leaned Clinker forward and found him well restrained. The phone rang.

  “Hello. This is Roach. We’ve got Clinker. Yeah, we’re in the morgue at the analytic branch. He’s strapped down, but we need help. Can you get someone over here?” Colin asked.

  “Anybody hurt?”

  “No, we’re safe here, it looks.”

  “OK, keep your eyes on him. Call security, tell them we’re coming.”

  “Good idea,” Colin said. “We’ll get him to the main security desk. See you there?”

  “Yeah. See you soon, good work.”

  Colin hung the phone up and looked at Michelle. “Michelle, could you call security here and tell them we’ve got backup coming?”

  Michelle nodded and turned to sit at a phone.

  Clinker hit Colin full force from the back. Colin flew to the ground and dropped his pistol.

  Michelle turned and was hit full forced in the face, staggering back. She felt her hand twisted and lost her gun.

  Colin was up, scrambling for his pistol, and when he had the gun again, he tried to get an aim on Clinker, who had disappeared into the elevator. Colin contemplated a shot into the doors as they started closing, and then tried to dive into the elevator to hold the doors. The doors closed and the lights began to move. They stopped a floor above. Colin and Michelle were on the run for the door they had come through. It was two flights up, and the basement was deeper that the floors above.

  When they arrived the elevator was empty. They ran to the guard station and found the guard sprawled on the floor, trying to get his arms under his chest to get up. The doors were closed, the parking lot dark.

  “We’ve got his keys downstairs, he’s on foot,” Michelle said as she pulled up the phone and dialed.

  Colin leaned over the guard and looked at his forehead. “You OK?” he asked, feeling stupid. It was obvious that the guard was not OK, but did know someone had asked him a question.

  “I’ll make it. What hit me?” he asked.

  “I’m not sure what hit you, but I am pretty sure who hit you. He’s a suspect that followed us in here tonight. Did you see anyone after we came in?”

  “Just your partner. He came up as you guys came in and said you folks left him with all the heavy stuff. Had a big box and knew you by name, Michelle,” the guard said as he nodded vaguely to Michelle.

  Michelle was on the phone, “Hey, main, we need backup. Suspect loose, think he’s on foot. Near Analytics, Lake area. We’re in Analytic Branch. Lake Street and B. Looked to be dressed in slacks and a blazer coat, was gray or something. Average height, no maybe shorter. Armed and he has escaped from restraints once, don’t know how. Yeah, just now. He’s suspected in assault with deadly weapons, got maybe twenty charges, so he’s dangerous. OK.”

  Colin said, “You want to call The Door, or do I do it?”

  “You do it,” Michelle said, helping the guard stand and getting him to a padded chair.

  “Thanks.”

  Colin picked up the phone and called, “Page Doreveck, I’ll hold. Yeah.”

  Michelle checked the door, it was secure.

  “Hey, we lost him.”

  “What happened?”

  “Don’t know. We had him tied with two zip cuffs, and next thing we knew, he was on us and out the elevator. We called for backup. He took a guard down, guard is OK. I’m going back down to check how he got out. He’s on foot here and out the building. Not sure if he’s in the area, we’re secure, and I’ve got backup coming,” Colin said.

  “Keep it secure. Stay with Michelle and the guard. I’m coming over with someone long in the tooth. Don’t get me wrong, Colin. You’ve done fine. This stuff happens. He’s marked and got no place to go. Won’t be long. I’ll get his accounts frozen in the morning, so he’ll be broke,” Doreveck said. “We have everything from his pockets, not sure if he can access his accounts if his apartment’s monitored. We may have him desperate.”

  Colin said, “Do you think we should let the guys know back at Mercy Hospital? He’ll be more dangerous than the last time he was in the halls.”

  “Colin, that’s good thinking. I’ll call them now. Sit on it, and I’ll be there in half an hour.”

  Colin went to the morgue despite Doreveck’s orders and looked for the evidence bag. Bishell had somehow escaped with the entire collection of evidence, vials, chemicals, pen injectors, and his gun. Colin found the tape and plastic ties he had used to secure Clinker. The restraints Michelle had used were for the securing of body bags. They were designed to go around a certain circumference. They had a point that the plastic retainer was designed to fail and the end would be removed after sealing the bag. Bishell had broken the restraints at those points. Michelle’s weapon was on the floor.

  Chapter 9

  One Year Earlier

  Michelle Lumen walked the corridor to her cubicle, stopping idly at the posters on the bulletin board. Several listed retreats to attend, some discussed seminars for preventing burnout, and there were several selling motorcycles that someone had purchased to treat their burnout. As she turned into her cubicle, she heard her name called.

  “Hey, Michelle, you’re on inventory today. Kelly’s sick,” came the call from the main cubicle. Michelle looked up to see her section chief leaning back in an office chair, half his body outside his cubicle. “There’s nothing going on in diagnostics anyway.”

  “Hell, Smitty. You can put an intern on inventory,” Michelle said as she slung her backpack onto the desk. She walked to Smitty’s cubical as she brushed her hair out and shook it free of her hat.

  “I tried that. Blake’s got him doing something,” Keith said as he leaned forward and disappeared back into his cubicle.

  “What do you have in inventory?” she asked, squeezing between the cubicle wall and Keith’s door enough to comfortably step in.

  “Usual stuff; I didn’t look at it much. Two deaths: one’s a clear homicide, middle-aged man; and another older woman that is just unwitnessed, no concerns. Shouldn’t take long,” he said.

  “I can get that done and still do some diagnostics. Do you mind? I’ve been setting up controls all week, and it would be really handy to run them all.”

  “Hell, I don’t care. Just let the guys know when you’re done, so they can get the cases out of the morgue. You been doing that tai chi stuff again? You look good today,” Smitty asked as he settled into his worn chair.

  “No, Boss, I’m just fresh from walking in, that’s all. Where’s inventory want me?” Michelle asked as she pulled her coat off.

  Keith punched his computer and said, “Looks like 2B, the guy, and 3C’s the lady, both in this building. Aren’t you the lucky wench. See you at noon. We’re supposed to have the folks from budget branch. They’ll be here whining and dining with us at lunch, talking about next year’s budget.”

  “Damn, that’s right. I promised my roommate we’d get the sofa out of the apartment today. I’ll have to call her. Do I really have to be there? I wouldn’t know a line item charge from a lightning strike,” she asked as she started out the door.

  “Yeah, you gotta be th
ere if you want to go on any conferences. Remember that’s what the boss lady said.”

  “Oh, drat, that’s right. Well, guess I’ll see you there.”

  Michelle walked to her cubicle and logged into her computer. There were no new e-mails for her so she put her lab coat on and pulled out her tool kit. Inside the kit were recorder, camera, gloves, pencil and paper, as well as a very small portable computer. She left for the basement, passing up the elevator for the stairs. As she left, she saw the department chairwoman come in and assay the gopher village, the island of cubicles their department had placed in the middle of the grand open area. Everyone commented on the elegant use of space and color, but the members of the department felt they were working in a gopher village. The chairwoman was a small woman with her hair made into a tall bun, and she wore heavy makeup. She was from Tennessee and felt her mission was to make proper ladies of all the female staff. Michelle saw her look her way, waved briefly, and escaped to the stairs, an avenue of escape she was reasonably sure Ms. Borden would not follow under any but the direst circumstances.

  Going down the stairs, she met Colin, another analyst for the laboratory. Colin was everyone’s favorite to tease. He had stylishly long, dark hair that never seemed combed or brushed. He wore thick, dark glasses. He always made you feel that he knew he looked like a geek and did it just to see how you would react. His subtle smile always greeted you as he looked from the corner of his glasses, as if he wanted to catch you laughing at him.

  “Hi, Colin, how’s your space?” Michelle asked as she walked past.

  Colin’s smile never vanished as he answered, “Just fine, my good lady. What makes you in such a hurry?”

  “Got stuck in inventory for a few hours. What are you doing?” she said, stopping at the rail.

  “I’m supposed to go to Fairview Hospital to talk about evidence collection. They have this conference with emergency room doctors and want to have me fill an hour. Can you see that, me the crime scene expert?” Colin said. “I’m the last person you’d want to put there, but here I go.”

  “Nonsense, Colin. I think you’re the quintessential geek for the job. You’ll just be smashing. I did that last year, and they were great folks. Food sucks, but that’s what you get for eating at a hospital. See you later,” she said as she rounded the corner.

  “Ciao, don’t forget to check their pockets,” Colin said as he started back up the stairs.

  Michelle smiled as she thought about Colin. He was close to her age but seemed so much older. She’d often wondered what he did in his spare time. No one from the department could represent them as well as Colin, except for the director perhaps. Michelle had grown to respect Colin for his abilities and productivity. He never seemed rushed, and after you knew him well you could see that he never wasted a movement. Wherever he went during the day, he managed to do something along the way. They had worked together for four years, yet she did not know anything about him, although anything about him would likely be boring.

  The morgue was in the basement, two flights of stairs down. The last floor was a double high so it actually took longer than going up a floor. An odd habit had her count the stairs, and she was always amused that there were even numbers of stairs on one floor and an odd number on the next.

  The basement was actually the busiest place for most of the day. This was where the material came in and was first analyzed, stored, and held until cleared by the police department. “The material” was victims of the crimes of the city. It once was rumored that there were bodies in the lab that had been there longer than the interns. Michelle knew this was not true, but never told the interns. It was more fun to see them worry. She walked to the door and used her key to get inside. Once in the morgue she had to go to the holding area for criminal investigation. There she logged into the first open terminal and pulled down her list of assignments. There were none listed for her job schedule. Then she recalled that she was replacing Kelly Paderson, and under that assignment roster, she found two cases she was to inventory.

  Locker 2, Tray B Identification 00198-M.*

  Male homicide victim. GSW to chest. Responders: Metro Team L. Call 2155, responded 2210. Found pulseless and no defibrillation was ordered. Transported and arrived 2235. Belongings in drawer 2B. Coroner reviewed and designated as full review.

  Locker 3, Tray C Identification 00194-F.*

  Female found unresponsive at airport in concourse C bathroom near gate 33. From Cleveland, NOK notified. Belongings in drawers 3C and D. Coroner reviewed and released.

  Michelle went to drawer 3C and pulled it out to review the contents. The coroner had released the death. That meant Michelle was required only to ascertain that the belongings to the individual were inventoried and placed in a secure container.

  This took only half an hour. She next went to the locker and pulled the deceased out along the tray run. The lady was waxen. The color of her face had changed to that of connective tissue, and her blood had settled to the back of her head. She had not been dead long when she was transported and evidently did not require much moving. The rings were in place and there appeared no indentations on the fingers that suggested a ring had been removed. Michelle determined there were dentures in place and no necklace. She then photographed the body and patted down the clothes, finding no evidence of a wallet or belt. She then closed the tray and sealed the envelope. As she left, she waved to the security camera in the corner, indicating to the monitors that she was done, a habit that tickled the monitoring personnel, and they were known to wave good-bye to Michelle with the camera.

  She next went to drawer 2B. There was a wallet, keys, a washer, and two pens. There also was a vial that appeared empty. The label read, “Acozil 5 cc 1 mg/cc.” It was empty. Michelle had no clue what Acozil was. She had to open the wallet and was curious if this was a physician. She noted a driver’s license, two pictures of kids, a membership card in the YMCA. She also found a pilot’s license and a permit to use the equipment of a construction company if he signed for it for his employer, Red-E-Concrete. That pretty much clarified that he was not a physician. The man was forty-two. No pictures of a wife. Michelle placed these into the envelope and went to the tray. Inside was a middle-aged man who appeared to have been slightly overweight. He had needed a haircut when he died. He wore no shirt, having had that removed by the paramedics. His chest had a moderate-size hole in the area behind his left arm. Michelle knew the victim would have a full necropsy, so she did not go to any great degree of work determining the trajectory or exit of the missile. It had been enough to kill him, that was certain. She noted he did have a ring on his left ring finger, seemed to have pad marks on his nose for glasses she had not found, and had a tattoo on his arm of a popular cartoon character. Patting the body revealed no further evidence. She looked closely at the victim’s arms for needle tracks or punctures, wondering if he had injected the Acozil, and found no evidence of this. She closed the envelope and signed off the inventory. As she looked up to the camera, she noted it nodding up and down. She smiled and waved.

  Michelle secured the envelopes back in the drawers she had originally found the material in and closed out the computer with a brief note of her findings with each case. She commented on the Acozil vial and no needle tracks, and then left. She would be in time for the meeting, which she regretted. Michelle stopped to call her roommate; she was pleased to learn that she, too, had been delayed at her work. She worked for a local restaurant supply house and had to fill an order for a burned-out business that was setting up a new location.

  As she started back up the stairs, she realized she still carried the Acozil bottle. Knowing the meeting was soon, she decided to return it that afternoon, feeling confident her note referred accurately to the information found on the vial including lot numbers and expiration dates.

  The meeting turned out to be catered by one of the best quick-meal outlets in the area. She enjoyed the meal and soon found she was headed for her lab.

  “So, Mich
elle,” Colin asked as they went out of the conference room. “Did you check their pockets?”

  Michelle smiled, “Oh, Colin, I sure did, but I forgot to check my own. I had something from one of the cases in my pocket. Have to take it back now. The drawer is supposed to have all their stuff in it anyway. Why, what do you find in pockets, anyway?”

  “Oh, all sorts of stuff. I’ve found keys to secret storage lockers, and diamond-studded money clips. I always inventory them in, but it is real surprising what you can find,” he said as he effortlessly came up beside her. “Anyway, it just seems part of that job. I hate it.”

  “I don’t mind, unless you have to get real up close. I didn’t see anything, but seldom do. It is all saved anyway. Why are you here? I thought you were at that hospital conference?” she asked.

  “I was. My gig was first up. I didn’t expect that, but there you go. Anyway, it was fun, but I didn’t have to eat the food. Did you know they say you shouldn’t get sick in July because all the new residents don’t know where the bathrooms are, and they are all distracted?”

  “No, Colin, I never did hear that. I have a brother-in-law that is a doctor. Next time I talk to him, I’ll ask. What are you doing the rest of the day?” she asked, knowing Colin was likely free for the rest of the afternoon. Colin was a very willing co-worker, and Michelle knew Colin was good for the afternoon’s work in one of the labs she had to set up.

  “I am your slave, O master,” he said as he pulled his personal digital assistant out of his pocket. He made a great show of licking the stylus he used to work his PDA. “What is your command?”

  Michelle smiled and felt somewhat guilty. “I need to calibrate all the chromatographs in the division, and if you did third floor, I could get out of here before midnight.”