“All right.” The Captain took one more deep puff and then put out his cigar before putting it back into his coat pocket. “I’ll take care of the media. You and Flo find this piece of shit and do it quickly.”
“What do we do now?” Flo asked as she walked over.
“We should let forensics do their thing and get the body the hell out of here as soon as possible.” I made a motion to one of the buildings. “We need to speak with the Dean as soon as possible, also.” As we left the crime scene for forensics to go over, I could see the flashes and questions being yelled at our Captain as he fielded questions from the media.
I could hear him making the usual statements: all measures were being used to find whoever did this and our best people were on the case. Thanks, Chief, no pressure. We crossed over to the administration building that was a short skip from the Arts building where the body had been found. It was around six in the morning, but a lot of people were in, thanks to the events going on outside. I slowly walked up to the main desk and flashed my badge. “Detective Walker to see the Dean.”
“Yes, sir,” the secretary said as she picked up a phone and made a call. A few seconds later, she put it down. “Both the Dean and the President of the University are waiting for you in his office.”
“Thank you,” I said as I walked away and down the hall. I had been here a few years ago when I’d registered Cassie. I also knew my way around because I’d graduated from this place before joining the force. I knocked on the door and was called to enter. “Gentlemen, I’m Detective Jake Walker, and this is Detective Florence Harris.”
“Pleased to meet you,” the Dean said as he stood up from his desk and shook our hands. “I’m Richard Jackson, Dean of Arts. This is Oswald Butler, the University’s President. We are deeply saddened by what is going on here.”
“Have you identified the body?” President Butler asked. It was clear he was concerned the victim might be a student, and was most likely hoping it was a homeless man that had just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Still bad for the image, but nothing compared to a student getting killed.
“We have,” I answered. “He’s a member of your student body.”
“Who is it?” Dean Jackson then asked.
“We need to speak with the football coach,” I stated.
“Shit,” President Butler said. A high profile student didn’t make this easier.
“He’s a member of the team,” I filled in. “It’s the quarterback. We need to know if anyone has been making any threats against any players on the team. I realize college sports can be competitive, but any threat sent in could be a clue that will lead us to a suspect.”
“What are you trying to find?” the Dean then asked.
“We need to make sure that no other players are at risk,” Flo replied. “We have to make sure that there isn’t someone out there who is gunning for the whole team, or to establish if he had a personal vendetta with the victim.”
“I’ll talk to the coach and our IT people. If anything was flagged by them, I’ll have them sent to your station,” President Butler answered. “We don’t want anyone else to get hurt, so we’ll get this taken care of as soon as possible.”
“I appreciate that,” I said as I fished a card out of my wallet and placed it on the Dean’s desk. “Call me if you guys find anything. We’ll be in touch.”
As we left the office, I had a feeling this was going to be more political than anything else. I’d been playing dumb with the Captain back at the scene when talking about football. My brother was a die-hard college football fan and I remembered a lot of things he’d told me about this upcoming season.
Wally was a candidate for the college player of the year. If he even lived up to half the hype going into this season, he was going to be a top 10 pick at next year’s draft. A promising career had been brutally cut short by someone who didn’t like him very much. The murder was too vicious to be someone from a rival team. Whoever committed this heinous act clearly hated Wally a great deal, to the point where he’d tortured the poor boy for at least a half hour before finally putting him out of his misery. “We need to speak with the victim’s family. See if they were getting any threats, as well.”
“Think this one is personal, Jake?” Flo called back from a few stairs behind.
“It sure looks like it,” I answered, but as I said that to her, I noticed something out of place. One of our people from forensics was in the lobby. They were looking for me, and I knew exactly what that meant: they’d already found something.
3
Flo and I walked over to the member of our forensics team in the lobby. “What did you find?” I quickly asked.
“This,” she answered as she handed over a clear plastic bag. Inside the bag was a small playing card. “We found it stuffed in the side of his sock. It was the only one there, which is what triggered our curiosity.”
“Fuck,” I said as I looked at the card. It was the ace of hearts. I handed it over to Flo for her to look over. “Thoughts?”
“I’m getting that feeling this isn’t going to end with one body,” Flo commented. She was never one to hold back her opinion, and she wasn’t often wrong.
“Take this back to evidence and keep it under wraps,” I ordered. We followed the young forensics officer out the door and I directed Flo to follow her back to the crime scene so no one would bug her. I strolled over to where the Captain was still talking to the press. While the Captain was doing well, I felt the need to butt in. “That’s all the time we have. No, we will release more statements at a later time.” I grabbed the Captain by the arm and dragged him away from the press. “We need to talk.”
Rather than get upset that I took away his press time, the Captain knew I wouldn’t have done it unless I thought it was urgent. “What do you have?”
“A card,” I answered.
“What kind of card?” he asked.
“The ace of hearts.”
“Where did they find it?”
“In his sock. We think the suspect planted it there.”
“What the fuck does it mean?”
“Your guess is as good as mine.”
Captain Bancroft paused for a moment. “The ace. It’s usually considered the top card in the deck. Could it possibly be a reference to Wally’s standing on campus?”
“It’s also considered the first of 12 cards,” I added. “We could see 11 more coming in our near future.”
“Holy shit,” the Captain cussed. “Could this get any worse?”
“Let’s hope the suspect doesn’t want to play a game of 52 pickup,” I answered. “Things could always get worse.”
“Don’t start with me,” the Captain said as he took a deep breath. “We’ll have to warn the Dean and the President to make sure their students stay inside and avoid walking around here at night, at least until we can determine the risk and whether the suspect is indeed going to strike again.”
“Will do,” I said as I started to take notes. “We also should contact the FBI and see if this fits a profile. For all we know, this could be someone they’re already following.”
“Good idea,” my boss agreed. “If this is someone that’s already on the radar, we could use the extra help without straining our budget.” As much as my Captain liked that idea, I knew he didn’t relish the thought of a serial killer moving to his city and setting up shop. I doubt anyone would.
Rather than hang around, Flo and I got into my car and we took off for our next obvious destination. It was close to eight in the morning and chances were good that most people were awake, so I didn’t feel the need to hold things up any further than I had to.
We drove 20 minutes across town until we reached the Bennett home. I was hoping Wally’s parents had already woken up because I was going to ruin their day. I was only the messenger, but I was about to get the brunt of two people’s fury and for good reason; lucky or unlucky that his family actually lived in the town where he went to school was
anybody’s guess, unlikely as it was for a star football player.
And here I was, there to tell them their child was dead. If someone had shown up with that kind of news, I’d most likely react the same way, so I never take this personally, no matter how many four letter words fly my way. We parked a few houses away so as to not attract attention, and slowly walked down the street.
There was only one thing that could ruin my attempt to speak with Wally’s parents, and there it was, parked right beside their home: a news van. Just being there would confirm Wally was the victim, so before anyone could turn a camera on, I walked over and grabbed the television reporter who I recognized from other crime scenes. I pulled her aside. “What’s your name?”
“Tina Carlson,” she quickly answered.
I paused for a moment. “You know why I’m here, don’t you, Tina?”
“I sure do,” Tina replied.
“I need you to do me a favor.”
“What is it?”
“Get back in your van and drive away. You never saw us here.”
“No fucking way.”
“In two hours this will be old news,” I said to her before looking around to make sure no one else was listening. “I can offer you something better.”
“What’s that?” she asked, curious to see what I would offer.
“An exclusive when we make an arrest,” I answered. “I’ll make sure you have a name and minimal information four hours before anyone else does.”
Tina looked back at me and obviously realized this exclusive was a lot juicier than the one she was about to get. “All right. We’ll take off.”
“Thank you,” I said as she backed off. Flo and I stood there and watched as Tina and her cameramen climbed back into the van and drove away. Once the van was gone, the real work was about to begin. Flo and I slowly walked up to the front door, and it opened before we even got there. It was clear the news van might have tipped them off. Just being there would have been enough, but I honestly thought and hoped this was the first time Mr. and Mrs. Bennett had opened the door all day. “Mrs. Bennett?” I asked the woman standing at the door.
“Who wants to know?” she quickly asked, partially closing the door. She probably thought we were reporters, as well.
I took out my wallet and showed her my badge. “I’m Detective Walker and this is Detective Harris. We need to speak to you and your husband.”
“My husband isn’t home,” she replied. “He works nights. He should be home very soon. Can I ask what this is about?”
“Can we come in?” Flo quickly asked. “Preferably before any more reporters arrive and jump to conclusions.”
“Conclusions about what?”
It was at this point that a car came screaming into the driveway. I could tell by the urgent manner with which the man came out of the vehicle, he was most likely Mr. Bennett. “I don’t know who you work for, but I want you two off my property, immediately!”
I opened my wallet to reveal my credentials to Mr. Bennett. “Technically, I work for you, Mr. Bennett. I’m Detective Walker.”
“Oh my God,” Mr. Bennett said as he dropped to his knees. Unlike his wife, Mr. Bennett obviously had been listening to the news on his way home from work, and was aware that a homicide had occurred on campus. Flo and I walked over and helped Mr. Bennett to his feet, then walked him into the house.
“What the hell is going on?” Mrs. Bennett asked her husband.
“Wally’s hurt, or dead.” Mr. Bennett finally spat out. “Isn’t he?”
I paused for a moment, but quickly realized that this was going to happen anyway, so much better to just tear it away like an old Band-Aid. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
Mrs. Bennett began to cry and fall down to the floor. Flo helped pick her up, as well, and walked her to the couch in the living room. I stayed in the hallway with Mr. Bennett. It was a good idea to keep them separate to ask a few questions. I started off with something basic. “How long were you at work last night?”
Mr. Bennett paused for a moment. “Ten hours.”
“Okay,” I said before moving on. “Did your son ever receive threats from other teams or people jealous of his success?”
“I don’t think so,” the old man answered tearfully. “Do you think he was targeted?”
“We don’t know yet,” I honestly answered. “Did he receive any threats in the mail from crazy kooks? Random things that didn’t seem credible?”
“Not here,” Mr. Bennett answered tiredly. “You might want to check with the university. He got a lot of mail through the team.”
“We are looking into that, sir.” It was evident that he had no idea of anyone that would want to do harm to his son. “Does your son have any criminal record? Has he ever gotten into trouble with the law?”
“No, never.” I could sense Mr. Bennett’s frustration. “Why are you asking me all this?”
“They’re very standard questions, just to see if he has any enemies that might want to see him dead. Standard protocol, I promise.” Realizing the old man wasn’t in the mood for further questions along that line, I ushered him into the living room and sat him down on the couch beside his wife.
We asked them more questions about Wally’s past, who his closest friends were, and if there had been any other issues with women and what-not. We tried to cover as much as we could without upsetting them any more than they already were, and when I felt they’d had enough, we decided to leave them to grieve. I gave them a card with a hotline they could call. “These people are good at helping people cope with loss. They’re ready to help if you need them.”
“Thank you very much,” Mrs. Bennett said as she took the card.
“Once again, we are very sorry for your loss.” I walked to the door and turned back as I opened it. “We will do what we can to bring whoever did this to justice.” They didn’t respond and I didn’t wait for them to.
There were more reporters waiting outside when we were leaving, and they were asking questions I refused to answer. I kept telling them that the police would be making a press conference later in the day, and that I had no comment at the time. I didn’t see the reporter from earlier today, so she’d been true to her word, but I couldn’t stop everyone else as there were too many of them. They recognized me as a detective from other cases, so there was little chance of hiding what they’d already guessed.
Seeing me there only confirmed the obvious. We were there to inform the family that their son was dead. Short of a confirmation, which I was refusing to give, the press still couldn’t tell the public who was found at the university. Not yet, at least.
As we walked back to the car, I could tell Flo was eager to know what was going through my mind. “You’re going back to the station. I’m going home to see the girls,” I said, not even giving her a chance to ask.
“You’re not coming in with me?” Flo asked.
“If I clock any more overtime, the union head is going to rip me a new one,” I answered, which was true enough. “Right now, we’re waiting for tests and autopsies to come back. You can handle the paperwork until some of that comes in.” I could tell she wasn’t impressed with that, but understood that I didn’t want to spend my only time with the kids at work, especially if all I was going to do was drink coffee, eat donuts, and chit-chat while waiting for things to come back from the lab.
I drove Flo back to the station and dropped her off. I had no intention of sticking around, afraid the Captain might try to convince me to stay. I preferred to get back to the house and see the girls, hopefully before they woke up for the day. It was close to 8:30 in the morning when I finally got back to the house, so odds of that were rather low.
When I walked in the door, not only were the girls up, but Clive was already making them pancakes. He even made a few extra flapjacks for me when he saw me, which I happily sat down to eat. I also got a cup of hot coffee that my youngest poured for me with two sugars and milk, just the way I liked it. “What did I do to deserv
e all this attention?”
“Nothing,” Clive said as he sat down at the table with me. “Just thought it would be nice to sit down and enjoy breakfast together. How was work?”
“As well as work can be on a Saturday morning,” I casually replied as I took a sip of my coffee. It wasn’t very good, far too weak, but I still smiled and acted like it was the best I’d ever had. The girls finished their breakfast and cleared the table.
I could tell they wanted something, but I was going to be strict about Sandy’s punishment for holding back her test. She understood and didn’t say anything about it. I did, however, appreciate the effort and her attempt to get back into my good books. Clive helped to clean up the kitchen. He was relieved to hear that Cassie was all right, but he had been watching the news until the girls got up and couldn’t believe the stories. “It’s actually much worse than they claim it is on television,” I corrected his thoughts while the girls were out of earshot.
“It is?” Clive asked.
“Much worse,” I answered as I poured what was left of the bland coffee into the sink and cleaned the mug out. It was all I could do to stand the stuff, but I slyly pretended it was all done and I was just cleaning the mug. Working in homicide had taught me, if anything, to appear confident despite how badly things were actually going.
I hated the politics of the station, of course, but there was nothing I could do about it. Right now, my boss was up to his neck in politics, and at the moment, all they could do was wait. The labs were going to rush the results of everything they lifted from the scene but they’d be lucky if it came in the next day. Rather than wait for the hammer to drop, I decided to do some laundry and catch up with my girls. I was confident that Flo would call me if something came up. She was a good detective and for that reason alone I had no problem leaving her in charge.
Mystery: The Card Counter: (Mystery, Suspense, Thriller, Suspense Thriller Mystery) Page 3