He shrugged. “He’s young and excited about his first action role. He’ll learn there are easier ways to open a door, Reightman. Give him a few years.”
They both watched as the two moved slowly through the door, with weapons drawn. A second or two later, the other officers followed suit. After what seemed like hours, Mitchell came to the door looking disconcerted.
“No one home, Mitchell?”
“Yes, ma’am, someone’s home, and it’s Lieberman. But he’s not up to entertaining visitors.”
With a grunt of acknowledgement, she moved forward, followed by Jackson. They entered the house, noting the tidy interior and the outdated furniture. Mitchell gave a directional tilt of his head and they moved further into the house. Reightman stopped at the entry way into a kitchen and small dining space. Sitting in one of the chairs with his back slightly to the door was Doctor Benjamin Lieberman, obviously very, very dead.
After taking a minute to note the blood spattered wall and curtains, the other team members stepped back out of the room. As she moved aside to let them pass, she looked at Jackson. “You’d better call it in.”
While Jackson made the call, she dismissed the uniformed officers from the area. “Alright, guys, you can head out front. I suspect the neighbors will catch on that something’s happening, if they haven’t already. Firmly, but politely, discourage their curiosity. Let me know if the press shows up. We’re going to be here for a while.”
Jackson passed the retreating officers as he came back into the house. “The crime team will be here shortly and Doctor Evans won’t be far behind.”
“Thanks for the update.” She said made her way to the doorway into the kitchen and stood just outside the door, taking in the scene and letting her mind process information. She was interrupted by Mitchell’s excited voice from behind her.
“Hey! Look what I found!”
She turned to see him holding a pair of glasses and as she watched, he settled them on his face.
“How do they look?” he asked and grinned goofily at the rest of them.
“Dammit, Mitchell! Give me those!” Detective Jones pulled the glasses off of Mitchell’s face. “Don’t you know better than to touch potential evidence without wearing gloves?”
“I could ask you the same thing, Detective.” Reightman stared pointedly at the item he held in his own ungloved hand.
“Shit!” he exclaimed as he followed her gaze and realized what he’d done.
“The senior crime tech is going to take you both out to the woodshed and whip your asses,” Jackson commented drily.
“He certainly is,” Tom Anderson agreed as he walked into the front door, followed closely by Laurie. He gave both of the culprits a disgusted glance as he reached into his overall pocked and pulled out a pair of plastic gloves. He snapped on the gloves and pulled a clear evidence bag from his kit. “Put them back exactly where they were found,” Tom instructed harshly.
“Where were they, Mitchell?” Jones asked.
The embarrassed officer pointed toward the plastic covered couch and offered, “Right under the front leg of the couch.”
His fellow partner in crime walked to the indicated spot and put the glasses on the floor. “Here?” he asked.
“A little to the left.” Mitchell directed, and then unfortunately added, “I think.”
“What in the hell do you mean, I think?” Tom barked at him. “You’d better remember – real fast – exactly where they were before you’re assigned to parking detail for the next twelve months.”
A white-faced Mitchell walked over to the sofa, followed by Tom. Mitchell indicated a small adjustment was needed and Tom moved the glasses slightly to the left. “Here?” the crime tech asked sharply.
“Yes, sir.”
Tom stood and handed the evidence bag to Laurie and directed, “Get a picture of these and then bag and label them.”
Laurie hurried to comply as Mitchell stammered, “I’m…I’m sorry sir. I wasn’t…wasn’t thinking. It was getting so intense in here I just thought I’d…try to...break it up some.”
“You know what, Mitchell? “Anderson asked in a deceptively soft drawl.
“What, sir?”
“Crime scenes are supposed to be intense!” Tom hollered in his face, before adding in a more restrained and reasonable tone, “Since this is your first time in your current role, I might – might eventually find some way it in my soft-hearted soul to overlook your little transgression. At least you have the excuse of being new to this.” Tom looked over at the other offender and gave a disgusted shake of his head. Jones stared at his shoes, and shifted uncomfortably.
Tom broke eye contact and walked to where Reightman and Jackson were waiting. “Sorry. Tom,” she offered.
“I had to chew both you and Jackson out a time or two if I remember correctly. You learned, and so will they.” He jerked his head toward the two, still standing at parade rest in by the coffee table. Then he grinned at her and winked. “I was young, dumb, and full of cum once myself.” When he saw her blush at his crude comment, he looked toward Jackson. “Detective Jackson, I believe you said someone has hurt themselves in the kitchen?”
“Yes, I did, Tom.”
“Then point me in the right direction. I’ll see if the poor bastard needs a Band-Aid.”
Jackson escorted him and Laurie toward the kitchen and Tom stopped mid-stride to address the assembled group. “All of the rest of you get your asses out of this house until I tell you it’s alright to bring your clumsy butts back inside.”
The small party of three headed back to the kitchen and Reightman shook her head at the two other members of her team. Looking pathetic, they slowly walked to the front door, heads held in shame. A minute later, Jackson came walking toward her indicating the front door. “Ready?”
“Tom didn’t mean I should leave.”
“You might be right. Let me think.” Jackson paused only a split second. “Okay – I’m done. When Tom said for everyone to get out of here, he didn’t say ‘all of the rest of you, except for Detective Melba Reightman, get your asses out of this house,’ did he?” She reluctantly shook her head. “That’s what I thought. Now, let’s just stroll ourselves right out that door until he tells us to come back. I’m not looking to get my ass chewed today.”
Tom was a great guy and did his job amazing well given his limited staff, budget and overall resources, but he did have his intimidation technique honed to a razor-sharp edge. “Okay,” she reluctantly agreed. “Let’s go.” Once outside, she informed him she was going to call Chief Kelly and give him an update. “Do you think I should mention the Bobbsey Twins’ itty-bitty misstep?”
“Nope,” Jackson answered, one hundred percent sure of his answer.
“Why not?”
He stared off into the horizon, absently noting the curious neighbors beginning to come out of their houses and huddle together across the street. “I remember back when I was a young, fresh cop, Melba.” At her questioning look, he continued, “I made more than my fair share of mistakes, and someone older and wiser blistered the skin right off of my ass.” She nodded her understanding. “No one told the then present Chief, and I remembered that kindness. It made me a better detective, and I’ve remembered that older and wiser person kindly for his forbearance. You never know when a little gratitude will serve you well in the future.”
“Who was it, Sam? The person who chewed your ass out back then?”
“Senior Homicide Detective Ernest Kelly, our current Chief of Police.”
Neither of them spoke while they walked back to the car to call in their update, they simply enjoyed the thoughtful silence.
A very long hour and a half passed, and Reightman and Jackson occupied themselves in different ways. While Reightman updated the Chief, Jackson spent time giving his own version of a tongue-lashing to Jones and Mitchell. Although he didn’t ever raise his voice, Reightman knew the two chastened men wouldn’t soon forget his words. As she hung up the call
, she saw him nod a dismissal to Jones, and walk away with Mitchell. The two leaned back against a patrol car and Jackson leaned over and spoke with the young cop.
She could tell by the officer’s face that Sam was giving him a pep-talk to follow his earlier pointed words. “Sam is one-of-a-kind. The best mentor and partner anyone could wish for. Mitchell will realize how lucky he is one of these days – just like me.” As she watched from her seat in the car, she eventually saw the young officer smile as Jackson clapped him on the shoulder and walked away.
One of the intensely curious neighbors brought out a tray of coffee in styrofoam cups and the entire contingent of officers accepted the offering gratefully, while sidestepping the accompanying questions. A few minutes later, the coroner’s van showed up, and Drs. Evans and Bridges stepped out followed by an extra, very strong looking officer.
As Evans and Bridges made their way up to the front door, Laurie exited the house. She stopped and spoke briefly to the coroner and assistant, and headed over to Jackson. Reightman eased herself out of the car and walked over to meet them.
“Tom said he’s ready for you all,” Laurie said by way of greeting. “And he said to remind your team the boots and gloves right inside the door have already been paid for, so everyone better damned well use them.” Laurie ducked her head a little shyly. “The last words are his, not mine, Detectives.”
Jackson grinned at Reightman and she hid her own smile at Tom’s acerbic reminder. “We’ll tell them, Laurie,” Jackson assured her and the young woman turned and went back into the house, stopping to take a couple of coffees from one of the officers manning crowd control.
“Round up the posse, Jackson.”
He put two fingers into the side of his mouth and gave an ear splitting whistle. Jones and Mitchell came running.
“We’re cleared to go in. Tom has placed booties and gloves by the front door. Use them.”
Both of the junior members of the team punctuated their understanding with an instant, “Yes, ma’am.” As they donned the gear, Tom came from the kitchen and watched as they completed their contamination prevention measures as per his instructions. “Why don’t we start here and I’ll walk you through the house, explaining what we’ve found and haven’t found at each stop of my little specially guided magical mystery tour?”
“Sounds good, Tom,” Jackson agreed. He mimed his request to pull out his notebook, and raised his eyebrows in Tom’s direction. The crime tech rolled his eyes and chuckled. “I guess I made quite an impression earlier. Yes, sir, Detective, you may remove your notebook and write down all of my educational comments while I show you the sights.”
Reightman waited until Jackson retrieved his writing gear. “Looks like we’re ready to play follow the leader, Tom. Lead the way.”
Tom led them to a small hall off of the living room and directed them to the two small back bedrooms. “In these two rooms…” he waited until they looked at him expectantly, “we didn’t find a damn thing.” When he saw they weren’t overly impressed with the tour thus far, he walked through their hallway huddle and directed them into the larger bedroom at the front of the house. When they had all filed inside the doorway, he continued. “In here on the other hand, we did find some vewy, vewy intewesting things. “
Jackson cracked an appreciative smile at Tom’s very bad imitation of the famous Elmer, while Reightman waited patiently for the goods.
Tom preceded them through the door and walked to the end of the queen sized bed positioned on the largest of the room’s walls. At the foot of the bed sat an opened bag and a briefcase. Reightman could see several stacks of cash sitting in the bag’s interior.
“We have a large amount of cash in the bag. It’s been disturbed as if someone, perhaps Lieberman – perhaps not – removed a couple of hundred dollars sometime in the recent past. We did manage to remove a few prints from both it and the briefcase. I won’t know whether they all belong to Lieberman until I have time with them back at the lab. We’ll see if they hold any helpful surprises. Wouldn’t get your hopes up any, for reasons you’ll soon learn.”
Next, Tom led them out of the bedroom and into the living room. “In this room, there’s evidence of numerous footprints in the thick, cushy, harvest gold carpeting, but they’re fairly mundane in my opinion. A man the size of the late, great Doctor Lieberman can’t help but leave an impression in a carpet like this. The texture, fiber makeup and thickness of the padding preclude us from establishing anything more than somebody walked across the floor quite recently. Since the house has been empty for some months, my hypothesis is the somebody in question was probably Lieberman.”
He motioned them toward the coffee table near the sofa. “A glass filled with liquid of some sort was placed on the coaster near the edge of the table. The slight dampness still remaining on the coaster indicates the liquid was probably chilled, and condensation formed on the glass and ran down onto the coaster.” Tom turned and indicated an end table near the recliner. “There’s another coaster with similar evidence of condensation on that table.”
“Is that significant, sir?” asked Mitchell hesitantly.
“That’s a good question, Officer Mitchell,” Tom responded encouragingly to the young man he’d blasted earlier. “In this case, the answer is, I don’t think so. All it really tells us is someone was thirsty and had something to drink. While doing so, they placed the glasses on these nice coasters and the glasses sweated.”
“Isn’t it odd there were two glasses, presumably sweating at the same time?” Reightman asked.
Tom considered her question seriously for a moment. “I don’t know, Detective. Without further supporting evidence indicating there’s a reason for the separate glasses beyond Lieberman’s having two different things to drink during the same evening, I don’t know what to say, other than I’ve got some sweat marked coasters.” Tom walked to the sofa and pointed down at a spot near its left front leg. “Here we have the little item which provided such amusement and hilarity earlier today – the pair of dark plastic framed glasses which apparently looked so fetching on Officer Mitchell, and were so inviting Detective Jones felt the need to take them away from him.”
Reightman noted that to their credit, neither of the two gentleman mentioned flinched or reacted in any way other than to give serious, professional nods.
“That’s it for this part of the tour,” Tom advised. “Let’s head on over to the main attraction.”
When they reached the kitchen and small attached eating area, Reightman noticed the two doctors from the coroner’s office were standing slightly to one side, as was the beefy officer who’d arrived with them. Laurie was waiting across the room.
“I’m going to let Laurie walk you through this room, lady and gents. She needs the experience and I’m getting the distinct impression you didn’t find my portion of the show all that interesting.”
Laurie gave them a small nervous smile, which reminded Reightman that she was fairly new to the job. It was good of Anderson to put her into the line of fire, since it was the only real way to grow her experience and confidence.
Tom nodded and Laurie stepped forward. “As you can see in this room, there are a lot of things to see…” she started, faltering briefly when she realized how inane she sounded. She cleared her throat and continued, “As you can see from the blood spatter on the far wall, the victim was apparently shot with a weapon held close to his head. In fact, the evidence shows the weapon in question was held to his head, on the left side, and fired, causing the blood….and other matter, to project from his right side. The weapon in question is on the floor beneath his left hand, with attached silencer.” Laurie stopped and looked to Tom, who gave her a nod of approval.
He stepped forward. “At this time, I think we’ll let the coroner’s team remove Dr. Lieberman’s body for transport. I didn’t want the exhibit to be disturbed until all of the paying customers had the chance to view it.”
Reightman had never known Tom to be so show
man like, and as the others present in the room shuffled a bit in response to his callousness, she tried to analyze the reason behind his demeanor. Perhaps this was getting to him more than anyone knew. Lieberman had been disliked by almost everyone, but still, he’d been a colleague of sorts.
At Dr. Evans’ indication, the large officer left the room and returned a few minutes later wheeling in the gurney with an extra-large body bag on its top surface. Most of the room turned away as the three members of the coroner’s team managed to get Lieberman’s body onto the gurney and zipped into the bag. The officer began to wheel the gurney out, assisted by Bridges who helped steer the heavy load.
Catching Reightman’s inquiring glance, Dr. Evans stopped and answered the unspoken question. “By the end of the day.” Reightman acknowledged the indicated timetable and Evans followed her team out to the waiting van.
After the somewhat unwieldy exit of Lieberman and the coroners, Tom indicated Laurie should resume where she had left off.
“On this table, there is a mid-sized bottle of vodka which is almost empty, as well as a glass, which is empty.” She directed their attention to the right. “In the kitchen area is another glass which has been washed and placed in the draining rack. We will, of course, be taking it to the lab for testing. There is also a bottle of cranberry juice, which we’ll test, and a small bottle containing a variety of prescription sedatives.”
Tom interjected at that point. “Dr. Evans is aware of the implications of those, Reightman, and will be testing them for a match to the sedatives found in Guzman”
“Thanks. You anticipated my question.”
“Great minds think alike,” Tom replied, and then inclined his head to Laurie.
She picked up where she’d left off. “To continue, there’s a small vial of some sort containing what looks like a …a piece of… flesh, floating in some sort of liquid we assume is meant to act as a preservative.” Laurie visibly faltered at the same moment Reightman and Jackson made sudden eye contact. Jackson looked hurriedly away and Reightman closed her eyes briefly, remembering the shock and disgust she had felt at Evans’ detailed description of what had been done to Geri Guzman.
Done Rubbed Out: Reightman & Bailey Book One Page 33