Night Strike

by Rodney Mountain

  "Anyone else coming?" Nick asked him.

  "A few are supposed to be coming in today," Madmike shrugged, "Don't know if anyone came into town and just hasn't checked in yet."

  "You're privy to most of the scuttlebutt," Corrie said, "Anyone have any major beefs with Firestream this week?"

  "That’s like asking if any of us breathed this week," Madmike grumbled, "I should have banned his ass years ago."

  Nick and Corrie nodded their agreement. Firestream had been their most contentious user for a long time. His name suited him well, as he’d flame anyone who disagreed with him, which was usually anyone who had the opportunity to talk with him for more than a few minutes. They also knew why he’d survived so long, he was Trey’s best friend in real life.

  "Ok," Nick said, "I guess we’re going to have to talk with everyone. I don’t suppose we’re going to find a smoking gun anywhere?"

  "I slept hard last night," Madmike said, "Trey might know some more. Firestream drove down with him. I didn’t hear the shots, though."

  "I’ll go talk to Trey," Nick said, "Find out what you can from the ME, Corrie."

  "This should be fun," Corrie said, "I don’t know if we should catch whoever shot Firestream or reward them."

  "Let’s find them first," Nick said, "This shouldn’t be too hard."

  "Yeah," Corrie nodded, "Only half the people in the hotel wanted to kill him."

  "Beats having all of them want to kill him," Nick grinned as he headed off towards the room where Trey was supposed to be.

  "I can’t believe one of us did it," Madmike said as he shook his head, "There’s got to be some other explanation."

  "It’s not a robbery," Talbot Jones said, "There’s a full set of ID on him, several credit cards, and nearly four hundred dollars in cash."

  "Any powder residue?" Corrie asked him, "Anything that indicates a killer?"

  "No residue," Jones shrugged, "The bullet casings are rather ordinary nine millimeter. Photographers have already hit them."

  "He looks almost human crumpled up like that," Madmike sighed, "I’m going to go sit with Kneads, Nicole and Crazygal. Maybe they’ll be able to make me feel better."

  "I’m sure," Corrie chuckled, "I’ll be in to talk to them in a few minutes."

  "Not too soon, eh?" Madmike said, a mischievous grin on his face.

  "Right," Corrie said, shaking her head and not believing him for a minute.

  While Corrie watched Madmike go down the hall, Nick was getting to Trey’s room. He knocked on the door and waited for a voice to answer. Finally someone told him to come on in. Nick opened the door gingerly and looked in at the people sitting there glumly.

  "Hello Trey," Nick said and then turned to the other man in the room, "If my memory for pictures is right, you’re Irc, right?"

  "Right," Irc agreed, "Who are you?"

  "You know me best as Stalin," Nick chuckled, "I just wish that I didn’t have to be here on official business."

  "They assigned you to this, Stalin?" Trey asked, standing up and shaking his hand, "Then you know…"

  "Yeah," Nick nodded, "Firestream. I hate to do this to you guys, but I have to ask some questions. Hopefully I can figure this out quickly so we can actually do some partying. Maybe have a drink to his memory."

  "Good luck keeping a straight face," Irc advised, "You’re not going to find too many people who will drink to it."

  "Hey!" Trey exclaimed, "That’s no way to talk!"

  "Did Firestream say anything about problems?" Nick asked Trey, "Anyone he’d been fighting with more than normal?"

  "Not really," Trey shrugged, "Hell, I thought he was actually doing better. That’s why I brought him with me. Thought that meeting the people here would make him see that there were flesh and blood people behind the words."

  "A lesson more of us need on there," Irc said solemnly, "Some of the flame wars online have been rather nasty lately."

  "So do you have any leads?" Trey asked Nick, "Anything at all?"

  "He was shot three times," Nick said, "Not sure about anything else. Corrie is talking to the medical examiner now."

  "Corrie?" Irc asked, "Is that Kat?"

  "Yep," Nick grinned, "You got lucky. My boss’s wife just went into labor. Corrie and I were the only ones who knew one end of a computer from another that could take it."

  "At least you don’t think we’re insane," Trey shrugged, "My wife still thinks I’m nuts for going to these things."

  "This is going to do so much to dissuade her of that too," Irc said.

  "Tell me about it," Trey moped, "Good luck, Stalin. Get the bastard."

  "I think someone already did," Brewdog said as he came up behind Nick, "Stalin, right? I’m Brewdog."

  "I was going to look for you next," Nick chuckled and shook his hand, "I do have one question to ask all of you. Did you hear anything over the past few hours?"

  "I slept like a baby," Brewdog said, "Of course I had a little company, but I’ll leave that one alone."

  "None of you heard the shots?" Nick asked, shocked by this, "Christ, someone should have heard it when he died."

  "I found the body when I realized his bed hadn’t been slept in," Trey said, "I never heard any shots though."

  "I didn’t hear anything until the commotion started," Irc shrugged, "Wasn’t particularly listening for anything either. Had a few drinks last night with Madmike and the others."

  "Anyone else do much drinking?" Nick asked them.

  "Most of us had a few," Brewdog said, "Ok, well, more than a few. Madmike and I were stumbling as we walked out of there."

  "I was right along with them," Trey agreed, "Firestream put a few down as well, but he left the bar before we did. He and Adam had a nice argument about something or other."

  "Really?" Nick said, interested, "What about?"

  "I honestly don’t remember," Trey shrugged, "I’ve known Firestream for so many years that I don’t pay attention to his arguments anymore unless it looks like they’re coming to a fight that he might get me involved in."

  "It was more of a disagreement," Irc told him, "Nothing major."

  "I’ll check it out," Nick said, "It’ll probably be nothing."

  "Find them, Stalin," Trey said, "Please find who killed him so I don’t have to tell his wife."

  "Someone married him?" Brewdog asked in horror, "Woman must be blind! Or deaf!"

  "Or both," Nick muttered, "Doesn’t matter. I’ll do what I can."

  "Where do you want us to go?" Irc asked him.

  "Stay in your rooms," Nick said, "Don’t try to take anything out for now though. Ok?"

  "You got it," Irc nodded, "Care for a drink, Brew?"

  "I think we could all use one," Brewdog agreed and then looked at Trey, "I’ll even drink with you on an occasion like this. And if you make a strong enough drink I might drink to Firestream."

  "Have to be a good one," Nick mumbled as he walked back towards the murder scene.

  Chapter 3

  Corrie was still looking at the murder scene when Nick came back. The look on her face told him that this was going to be a bitch of a case.

  "Well, we know it’s not a robbery," Corrie said, "And like he said before, no powder burns either, so it wasn’t close range. He saw his attacker too."

  "He didn’t turn away?" Nick asked, "I’m surprised. I always figured him for a coward."

  "He was," Corrie said, "Probably just didn’t get a chance. Did you learn anything?"

  "He had words with Adam last night," Nick shrugged, "Trey is predictably broken up. Irc and Brewdog care about as much as can be expected."

  "Probably only slightly more than you do," Corrie smiled, "Don’t lie to me. You hated Firestream more than anyone here."

  "Yes dear," Nick agreed, "I did. But I have an alibi. I was lying in bed with you when he was shot."

  "I know it," Corrie smiled, "So what do we do next?"

  "Adam?" Nick asked her, "
I want to do that while I’m still thinking of it."

  "Alone or together?" Corrie asked him.

  "Good cop, bad cop," Nick said, "Or bad cop, worse cop. Depends on whether he pisses us both off or not."

  "Let’s go," Corrie shrugged, "Adam is in room sixteen."

  The two of them walked over to the door, about three down from where they were and knocked politely. It took about a minute or two, but Adam finally came to the door and let them in. Corrie was surprised that they managed to get Adam at all, seeing as he’d dodged every other get together that had happened over the years.

  "Morning Adam," Nick said, "I’m Detective Jones, this is Detective Albiston."

  "Stalin and Kat," Adam chuckled, "Seems, I remember hearing your real names somewhere."

  "I wish I was here just to enjoy the company," Nick said, "But we got called in to work."

  "Firestream?" Adam asked as he rubbed the shiner on his left eye, "That was only a minor argument…"

  Corrie knew from the look on Adam’s face that he hadn’t heard the commotion. She looked at Nick and touched his arm. He looked at her and decided to let her continue. She had much more tact that he did, something that he’d known from the first time they’d worked together.

  "Firestream is dead, Adam," Corrie said, "We got called in to investigate the murder."

  "Murder?" Adam said, his eyes bulging a little, "Someone killed him?"

  "You didn’t hear all the commotion?" Nick asked him, a little surprised by the reaction, "There have been cops out here for two hours!"

  "I drank way too much with them last night," Adam explained, "Part of why I got into that scuffle with him. I was very drunk. I was ignoring the noise hoping that my headache would go away before everyone else got up."

  "So you’ve been here all night?" Corrie asked, "Alone?"

  "Much as I would have liked to coax one of the ladies into bed," Adam chuckled, "Sad fact is that I couldn’t have gotten it up last night to save my life. Way too drunk."

  "Right," Nick nodded, "I know that feeling."

  "Anything I can do to help?" Adam asked them, "I didn’t like the son of a bitch, but he didn’t deserve to die."

  "That’s up for debate by some," Nick shrugged, "But murder is never the answer."

  "Just stay in your room and don’t try to take anything out for now," Corrie told Adam, "We may end up making a weapon search."

  "You got it," Adam said, "I’m going to take some Excedrin and try to get my head together. If you need to know anything about last night come and knock, I’ll be here thinking of my next bad joke."

  "Somehow that doesn’t surprise me," Nick chuckled, "Thanks, Adam."

  Adam smiled and retreated into his room. Nick and Corrie walked back over to the death scene and looked around again. Firestream’s body was still there, though the medical people had come to take him away. Nick watched as they rolled the body, and then saw something that struck him as strange.

  "Look at the wounds," Nick told Corrie, "Does anything seem strange about that?"

  "Let me diagram it real quick," Corrie said, "Can you hold that body there for a second, guys?"

  "Sure," one of them nodded.

  Corrie, the more artistically inclined of the two of them, took a couple minutes to do a rough chart of the entry and exit wounds. Once she finished she nodded at the attendants, who lifted the body onto the gurney to take away.

  "Strange," Nick said, "It’s like the shots came from a low elevation."

  "Someone sitting down?" Corrie wondered.

  "Possible," Nick said, "There are enough chairs in here."

  "Shall we go talk to the others?" Corrie asked him, "I’m assuming you’ll want me there for the girls."

  "CG will talk to you more anyway," Nick agreed, "I’ll be the bad cop in this case."

  "You usually are," Corrie smiled and then walked towards the room that the others were waiting in. Nick shook his head and followed, chuckling.

  Corrie went up to room 11 and knocked on the door. A female voice beckoned them inside. Nick walked in and smiled at the people sitting down, though there wasn’t a smile in the bunch. They were all bummed that their vacation had come to a crashing halt due to a very public murder.

  "Hi guys," Corrie said and sat down, "You all know me from that girls night out last year. This is Nick."

  "Stalin," Crazygal said with a smile, "Nice to finally meet you."

  "Likewise," Nick nodded, "I remember you too, Kneads. You must be Nicole."

  Nicole nodded from her wheelchair and looked back at him. She was nothing like her usual bright and bubbly self that she usually displayed. Not that either Nick or Corrie were surprised by this. She had been one of the few who actually liked Firestream.

  "Wish that it could be a happier meeting," Kneads told them, "Have you got any leads?"

  "A few," Corrie said, "Not too many. It would be helpful to know if any of you heard anything."

  "Not a thing," Crazygal shrugged, "I’m surprised too, usually I wake up for anything."

  "I didn’t even hear the shots," Nicole said, causing Nick to look at her, "I was in my room."

  "Kneads?" Corrie asked, "For the record?"

  "I drank just like everyone else," Kneads said, "He could have been killed in my room and I wouldn’t have known until someone woke me up."

  "CurlyQ had a little altercation with him last night," Crazygal said, "I think he was hitting on her pretty hard. She threatened to shove one of Stalin’s muppets up his ass."

  "What a waste of a muppet," Nick said dryly.

  "Where is she, anyway?" Corrie asked, "I haven’t seen her yet."

  "She’s in room 9," Madmike told them, "She’s the one who found him, came screaming to my room waking me up."

  "Stay put, guys," Nick said, "We’ll be back in a few. We’re trying to talk to everyone before we do any heavy questioning."

  "We’ll be here," Crazygal said glumly, "Good luck, Stalin. You too, Kat."

  "It’ll be over soon," Corrie promised, "Getting away with murder isn’t particularly easy nowadays."

  "Right," Kneads sighed, "I guess I’m still a bit in shock over this."

  "We all are," Madmike said, "He was a monumental pain in the ass. No reason why that should change with his death."

  "Madmike!" Crazygal said, throwing a pillow at him, "That’s no way to talk!"

  "Don’t worry about it," Nick said, "I’ve seen enough corpses. Nothing ruins your day quite like dying. It also ruins the day of everyone in the vicinity. Trust me, I’ve been doing this for a while."

  "On both sides of the coin," Corrie grinned.

  "It’s been nearly a decade since I was a criminal," Nick grinned, "President Clinton legalized me back at the beginning of the new millennium."

  "I don’t want to know," Madmike chuckled.

  "Let’s go talk to CurlyQ," Corrie said, "Take it easy, guys. We’ll be back in a few."

  Chapter 4

  They left the room and Nick waited until they were out of earshot to say anything else. The easy smile he’d had before was gone again. Corrie wondered what he heard that made him suspicious.

  "Spit it out, Nick," Corrie told him, "Something is eating you."

  "Nicole," Nick said, "She knew he’d been shot multiple times."

  "She could have seen the body," Corrie said, "Madmike could have told her too."

  "Yes," Nick admitted, "But she was too quick to say something about it. There’s also the fact that he was shot from down low."

  "From a sitting position," Corrie nodded, "That makes sense."

  "Let’s talk to CurlyQ first," Nick said, "I want to think about this some more."

  "I can’t see her carrying a silenced weapon," Corrie said, "That’s the part that bugs me. Nobody heard it."

  "I’ve been thinking about that too," Nick said, "I don’t think they were all drunk enough to not have heard it."

  "Let’s ta
lk to CQ," Corrie said, "Maybe she’ll have some ideas on what happened."

  "If she’s not hysterical," Nick grumbled, "Want to take this alone?"

  "I can," she said, "Do a search for a silencing method?"

  "That’s what I’m thinking," Nick nodded, "I also want to measure some angles. Let me know if she gives you anything useful."

  "You got it," Corrie said and looked around real quick before giving him a quick kiss on the cheek, "Good luck."

  "You too," Nick said as she walked off and knocked on the door of room nine.

  "Come in," said a feminine voice that sounded like it had been sobbing, "It’s open."

  Corrie opened the door and smiled at the young woman, hoping to look as non-threatening as possible. She knew from experience that finding a body was a traumatic experience, especially one who’d been murdered. CurlyQ looked back and wondered what she was in for next.

  "You must be CurlyQ," Corrie said, offering her hand, "My name is Corrie, though you probably know me better as Kat."

  "Kat," CurlyQ said with a relieved smile, "I thought sure the cops wouldn’t let anyone else in."

  "Stalin and I are the cops in this case," Corrie said, "Nobody else knew what to do with this one."

  "I can’t believe this happened," CurlyQ said as she slumped back down on the bed, "Why would someone have to kill him?"

  "Evidently a lot of people wanted to," Corrie shrugged, "Did you have any problems with him last night?"

  "He was hitting on me quite a bit," CurlyQ told her, "I eventually had to tell him to stuff it."

  "How did he take it?" Corrie asked her, "Did he keep pushing?"

  "A little," CurlyQ shrugged, "Madmike and Brewdog told him off though. I knew that he wouldn’t try anything with them there."

  "How did you find him?" Corrie asked her, "I know it’s painful, but I need to know what you saw."

  "I was looking for the continental breakfast," CurlyQ told her, "I hadn’t had anywhere near as much to drink as the others, so I figured I’d be eating alone."

  "I’ve seen most of the others," Corrie chuckled, "Probably a good bet."

  "Anyway," CurlyQ continued, "I almost tripped over him. He was lying on the floor and…"

  Corrie moved over to her because she knew the girl was about to start crying again. Sure enough, CurlyQ began crying again, almost as if on cue. Corrie had played the mother hen in situations like this before and was good at telling crocodile tears from real ones, and this girl was definitely suffering from shock.