Over Her Dead Body

by Bradley Bigato

  “This is 911. What is your emergency?” an older male voice came across the phone.

  “Yes my name is Michael Bander. I was taken to a house and tortured by two police officers tonight…

  Chapter 15

  Detective James was on the way back to the station. He needed to find out what information that the CSI’s had found so far, if any, that might point him in any meaningful direction. He was going to crash at the office and begin early. He’d be lucky to see four hours of sleep tonight. It’s going to be a long night… the sheriff’s words echoed in his head. The detective was nearly to town when his phone rang. He had a CB, but for most of his business, he was being fed information that he preferred to keep out of earshot of the residents of Angel Falls. It could only hinder an investigation. Not to mention small towns like these, gossip travels faster than the speed of light and one question about a person of interest over the radio would be a guilty verdict without the trial. So, Detective James wasn’t too surprised to hear his phone ringing.

  “Speak.” The detective answered his phone in his typical ‘skip the formalities and get right to the fucking point’ tone.

  “Detective, we’ve got a problem.” It was Officer Garrison. He sounded a bit frantic. He had been given a position answering the phone and 911 calls after crippling arthritis forced him from working the streets.

  “What is it Garrison?”

  “Well, the chief wanted me to give you a call. We had a 911 call come in.”

  “And…?”

  “Well, sir…it..it’s Frank and Gary.” The officer was stumbling. He sounded nervous which was out of character for him.

  “What about Frank and Gary? They aren’t questioning the perp are they?” Detective James’ voice began to get agitated. If they tried something like that, they could blow the whole investigation. Often times, officers would get power hungry and try and shortcut their way to detective. It almost always ended badly.

  “No sir. The call came in from Michael Bander.”

  “Bander? Isn’t he in custody?”

  “No sir, er, not anymore.”

  “What the hell does that mean, not anymore?” Detective James yelled as he jerked the car over to the side of the road and stopped.

  “Well sir, Michael Bander made a 911 call from Gary’s cell phone. He said he had been taken to a house and tortured. He said he no longer felt safe in police custody and that he left the squad car at Angel Fall’s National Bank and their weapons in the trunk.” There was a pause. “Sir, he said they waterboarded him.”

  “Where are they now?” The detective asked

  “Michael…er uh the perp, said that he left them tied up at the house they had taken him to.”

  “Did he give an address?”

  “514 Lincoln Street.”

  “Who’s picking them up?” The detective asked impatiently.

  “That’s why the chief wanted me to call you. Frank and Gary were supposed to be on patrol tonight. He’s just sent everyone else home. He wants me to call in an ambulance, but he asked me to call you first. He wants you to go assess the situation, take some pictures and try to figure out what happened.”

  “Jesus Christ, I don’t have time for this shit Garrison. I’m in a murder investigation.”

  “With all due respect sir, if this guy was tortured by our guys, you may not have an investigation. He’ll walk and you know it.” There was a pause.

  “Of course, you're right.” Detective James conceded. “I’m on my way. Send one CSI to meet me there would you?”

  “I’ll call it in right away sir.”

  “Why the ambulance? How bad is it?”

  “Well sir, this Bander guy said he broke Frank’s knee and that Gary took a shot at him and was hit by his own ricochet.”

  “Jesus Christ! Did he have his vest on?”

  “No sir. But he was apparently hit in the arm.”

  “Tell the ambulance to hold up outside the house until I give them the ok to enter. Got it?”

  “Yes sir, I’ll call it in right away.”

  “Alright. Did this Bander guy give any clue as to where he was going next?” Detective James asked.

  “No, he just said he had a murder to solve.”

  Chapter 16

  Detective James pulled up in front of the house on Lincoln Street. The house was clearly vacant and was overgrown with weeds. There was nothing to indicate that anyone was at the home or that there had been a disturbance there. Aside from the tire tracks, it didn’t look as if anyone had occupied the place for a long time.

  The detective got out of his vehicle and stood for a moment taking in his surroundings. He had many rules to which he lived by, and one of them was to never make assumptions. For instance, taking the story Officer Garrison had told him at face value meant that the officers had done something terrible, the perp was long gone, and the scene was secure. But that would be an assumption. Suppose the Bander guy got a jump on the officers and forced them to this location. Suppose he made the call to lure another unsuspecting officer into a false sense of security. Hell, he was a murder suspect. If he killed once, isn’t it logical that he could continue doing so in attempt to cover up his crime? Couldn’t he be simply attempting to destroy evidence? He’s sent everyone else home... Garrison’s words echoed in the detective’s mind. He drew his weapon and kept it pointed toward the ground. He reached back in his vehicle and snatched up his Maglite. The ambulance turned onto Lincoln Street. They had the lights flashing but the siren was off. No need to wake up the neighborhood. Detective James thought. He approached the driver’s side of the ambulance. The window was already down. A guy with curly brown hair stuck his head out of the window. He looked to be in his mid twenties.

  “We were told to stay outside until the house was secure.” He said in a too chipper voice for nearly four in the morning.

  “If I’m not out in ten minutes, call for backup.” The detective said.

  The curly haired EMT was chewing gum. He looked at the handgun and back at the detective and nodded. “Good luck.” He said.

  The detective turned and headed back toward the door. He stopped at the door, put his flashlight under his arm and pulled out his cell phone and dialed the station. Officer Garrison answered.

  “Garrison?” The detective asked.

  “Yes Detective.”

  “What’s the ETA on the CSI?”

  “Should be there any moment sir.”

  “Have him stand by outside the door with his collection kit and camera. Did the perp say where in the house the officers are to be found?”

  “He said they were in the basement tied up. That’s all he said.”

  “K. I’m going to secure the upper floor. Tell him not to enter until I’ve cleared it.”

  “I will let him know. Watch your six.”

  The detective flipped his phone shut and entered the house. It was old and smelled of mildew and cat pee. There was a broken window to his right. He figured all kinds of animals were likely to be living in here. The detective went room to room securing each one. He checked closets and behind doors. Nothing. There were pieces of dry wall, ceiling, and other debris scattered about. In one room, there was an old mattress, a tattered playboy, and drug paraphernalia. Nothing important. Nothing valuable. The place probably served as a hideout for young boys or the occasional homeless person. No noise could be heard even from the basement.

  The detective stuck his head out of the front door five minutes later and found a CSI tech standing nearby. It was the Martinez kid from Syracuse. He had been working as a tech in Angel Falls for the last three years. He was good. He was smart. He was late twenties and balding. He had glasses which he reached out now and pushed up on his nose. “Long night Detective?” He asked.

  “You and me both Martinez. You and me both” The detective replied shaking his head. Technically, it had been a long night for both of them. CSI’s didn’t typically work nights in Angel Falls. There wasn’t enough crime to mandate
it. But they were on call 24/7 to handle anything that arises. Because they might go a month with nothing major, they were usually anxious to put their skills to the test when duty called. They loved a challenge. They’re about to get one now. The detective thought. “You have your kit? Camera?” The detective asked.

  “Ready when you are.” The CSI said holding up his kit.

  “Ok, I’ve cleared the upstairs but not the basement. You stay up at the top of the stairs and wait for my signal to come down. Then you work the house like you would any other crime scene.” The CSI nodded. “Also, you keep your eyes peeled in all directions as if the upper floor hadn’t been secured. Got it?”

  “Yes sir.” The CSI said.

  The detective nodded back and the CSI tech followed him inside and to the left. The detective pointed toward a door with graffiti on it. “That’s the stairs to the basement, but like I said. I haven’t been down it yet so stay on your guard.” The detective pulled the door out a little and pointed his Maglite down the stairs. “Angel Falls Police! Anybody down there?” The detective yelled.

  Two voices came yelling back up the stairs confirming they were police officers.

  “Anybody else down there with you?”

  One voice echoed up “No.”

  “Get us the fuck out of here.” Came another.

  Detective James descended the staircase slowly sweeping his light and weapon from side to side. Assume nothing. When he reached the bottom of the stairs he paused at the sight. He was so stunned by the scene before him, he forgot all about securing the rest of the room. Right in front of him, on an old wooden table, both police officers were naked and strapped to one another. The detective shook his head as if trying to clear up what must surely be a false image but the scene remained the same. The detective’s mouth opened slightly as if to say something and then closed again.

  “Don’t just fucking stand there. Get us out of these Godamn straps!” Frank yelled from the bottom of the pile. The detective snapped out of it and moved his light around the room taking it all in. There were two lamps with broken bulbs that appeared to be connected to a battery. There was vomit on the floor next to the table. The floor was wet everywhere. Since it hadn’t rained in a couple of weeks and this place didn’t likely have water turned on, it gave some credibility to the waterboarding story.

  The detective turned around and hollered up the stairs. “Martinez!” The CSI tech began to head down the stairs. “Grab a couple 100 watt bulbs from your car. Tell the EMT’s to stand by at the top of the stairs. The tech went back up and out of the house. Long night…doesn’t even begin to describe it. He thought. “Which one of you is shot?”

  “I am.” Came Gary’s voice. The one on top. The detective wanted to shine his light in his direction to assess the situation, but the sight of Gary’s ass crack in the air was appalling, gross, and…well gross.

  “Where are you shot at?” The detective asked trying to focus his light in another direction.

  “I’m shot in the arm.” The officer said. The detective spotted the opening into the next room and stepped into the doorway and peered around. There was nothing of interest. He turned back and searched the floor. He spotted three pairs of underwear, one pair of pants, a shirt, and a vest. Three pairs of underwear… The detective flipped open his phone. He was about to call in that the suspect may be wearing police clothing, but remembered there wasn’t anyone on the street to look for him. He clicked his phone shut and put it away. But why three pairs of underwear? The detective shook his head again.

  Footsteps came from the stairs and the detective focused his light in the direction to verify it was Martinez. The CSI tech had his kit over one shoulder, his camera around his neck, and a pack of bulbs in the other hand. He made his way down the stairs and set his kit to the side. The detective flashed the light in the direction of the lamps. Martinez went to the first lamp and carefully unscrewed the broken piece from the lamp and pulled a new bulb out of the box. Martinez screwed in the bulb and the light of the lamp filled the basement and illuminated the two police officers lying one on top of the other, naked on the table. Martinez’ mouth went ajar as he stared in disbelief. He didn’t know whether to cringe or laugh. His expressions seemed to go through all the emotions that were flowing through him. Bewilderment seemed to dominate them.

  The men on the table were beginning to groan and get restless. “Will somebody please get us off this fucking table?” Frank yelled.

  “Martinez!” The detective pulled the CSI tech out of his trance. Martinez looked toward the detective who pointed at the other lamp with his Maglite. Martinez went over to the light and replaced the bulb.

  “We’ll have you guys out in a moment. Hang tight. Martinez, snap pictures of everything before we disturb the crime scene.” Martinez nodded and began taking pictures.

  “Crime scene?” Gary responded. “We didn’t do anything.”

  “Who said you did anything?” The detective responded. “Gary, while he’s working, why don’t you tell me what happened?”

  “I’ll tell you what happened,” Intervened Frank, “That murderer got the jump on us and escaped custody.”

  “I tell you what Frank, let Gary fill me in, then you’ll get your chance to add to it.” The detective noted that Gary seemed to be the weak link and the most likely to botch a fake story. Frank didn’t say anything. He just made a huffing sound. “What happened Gary?”

  Gary paused for a moment. He tried to move, but he was bound so tight he did little more than wiggle his lower legs. The detective cringed at the sight. You’ve got to hand it to the Bander guy, he’s got a sense of humor. He thought.

  “We were taking the perp back to the station.” Gary began. “When he started acting like he was having a seizure in the back, we pulled over and got out to check on him. When I opened the door, he jumped me, grabbed my gun, and brought us here.”

  “He jumped you and grabbed your gun with his hands cuffed behind his back?” The detective asked skeptically.

  “Well…he…er…had gotten out of his cuffs.” Gary said.

  “I see. Any idea how he could have done that?” The detective asked.

  “Well, we didn’t exactly pat him down seeing he was in his underwear and all. We could see he didn’t have a weapon, but I guess he must have had something that could pick a lock because he didn’t have his cuffs on.” Gary stated confidently.

  “How can you be sure he didn’t slip his hands out?” Asked the detective. Flashes were going off around the room as the CSI tech made his way around snapping pictures.

  “I checked them myself.” Gary said. “They were tight. No way he pulled his hands out.”

  “Gary’s right, I checked them as well.” Added Frank. The detective had pulled out a notebook and was making notes as they went along. The CSI had photographed most of the room and had made his way around the table to where Frank and Gary were facing. The CSI held the camera up in their direction.

  “I don’t fucking think so!” Yelled Frank. The CSI tech lowered his camera a moment and looked at the detective. “You fucking snap our picture and I’ll shove that camera so far up your ass, you will be shitting black and white for a week!” Frank yelled again.

  The detective nodded at the CSI to continue. The tech looked back at Frank, shrugged, and focused the camera. “Sorry boys,” the detective said, “evidence. You understand. Can’t charge him with kidnapping if we can’t show the jury proof can we?” The detective stated with a hint of humor in his voice.

  “Show the…you better not show anybody that fucking picture! I’m going to smash that thing as soon as I get out…of…here!” Frank was wiggling as hard as he could. He wasn’t making any leeway, but the more he wiggled, the more humorous it made it look as Gary wiggled with him on top. The CSI lowered his camera but was laughing quietly. He looked over at the detective who was also trying very hard not to burst out laughing.

  “Alright, alright, let’s get you boys out of here. Before I
do, whose puke is on the floor?” There was a silence. Apparently the officers hadn’t thought of including that into their story. “It’s going to be DNA tested, so we are going to find out anyway. Whose is it?” The detective asked sternly.

  “It’s the perps.” Said Frank. “He vomited after he started torturing us. Guess he couldn’t handle it.”

  The detective nodded. “Martinez…” Martinez looked up. The detective had moved out of sight of the officers. “I need to take a couple pieces of evidence with me, so I need you to quickly bag, tag, and sign a transfer of evidence form.” The detective held his finger up in front of his lips in a shushing gesture. He had spotted the cell phone, open and under the straps, and had guessed what Bander may have been up to. The detective held up his cell phone and pointed to it and then down and then made a gesture as if he was dropping it into an evidence bag and sealing it. The CSI looked down and then back and nodded understanding. “I need you to bag some of that vomit for me so I can get the lab started on DNA.” The detective finished.