by S. C. Stokes
“Addict? Me? Never,” Vida answered unconvincingly. “I can stop any time I want.”
“I bet you lunch tomorrow that you can't make it the rest of the day,” Kasey taunted.
“Fine,” Vida said. “I’ll take your money. At least if I lose the twenty, I know you'll be using it to buy me lunch.” He laughed as he drew a scalpel off the tray to his right.
There was a knock at the door. Kasey looked up in time to see it open partially. A blonde woman with her hair drawn up in a bun poked her head through the gap. She made as if she would enter the morgue but paused.
“Can I help you?” Kasey asked, heading toward her.
“Are you Kasey Chase?” the woman asked.
“I certainly am. Who's asking?”
“I’m Kathleen. You don't know me, but I am the Chief’s assistant. He’d like to speak with you, seemed rather urgent about it. Insisted I come and fetch you right away. He mentioned I might find you here. I was a little confused though, we don't seem to have your personnel records on file.”
“That’s because I don't actually work here,” Kasey answered. “At least not yet. I'm on secondment from the OCME. The Department figured Dr Khatri could use all the help he can get,” Kasey explained, sneaking in a sideways jab at Vida.
“You tell yourself whatever you need too, Kasey,” Vida called out from behind her, “but we all know you weren't exiled out here to spare me.”
“Well, in any case, the chief would like to speak with you,” the woman replied, pushing her glasses up her nose with one finger. “Shall we?”
“What, right now?” Kasey asked, a little concerned.
“Somebody's in trouble,” Vida taunted.
“Oh, shut up, Vida,” Kasey answered, throwing him a dirty look. Turning back to Kathleen, she asked, “Any idea why he wants to see me?”
Kathleen shrugged. “None at all. He took a call, and as soon as he got off, he sent me down here to find you. Your guess is as good as mine.”
“Very well,” Kasey answered, “Let's go see what this is about.” Turning to Vida, she said, “Bishop is hustling for any evidence we can get. She needs something before we find the boyfriend, otherwise he'll walk. Feel free to start without me. Let's get Bishop what she needs.” She turned back to Kathleen and gestured towards the hallway. “Shall we?”
Kathleen nodded made her way to the elevator. She pressed the button and the doors parted. The two women stepped inside. When the doors closed, Kathleen pressed the button for the fourth floor and the elevator jostled into motion.
As the elevator came to a halt, she turned to Kasey. “Have you ever met the chief?”
“No, I can't say I have had the pleasure,” Kasey replied.
“Well, Chief West is old school. Doesn’t tolerate any foolishness,” Kathleen stated.
“I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks for the heads up.”
The elevator dinged, and the doors swung open, revealing a small waiting area. Beyond it lay a glass wall with a boardroom and another office with its curtains drawn, preventing her from seeing within. Presumably it belonged to the chief. The desk sitting just outside the door would be Kathleen’s.
Kathleen swept out of the elevator and across the small waiting room. Leaning into the open doorway, she tapped quietly on the glass before announcing, “Kasey Chase to see you, chief.”
“Show her in, Kathleen,” a voice called. It was firm and unyielding.
Kathleen backed out of the doorway. “Head on in, Kasey. The chief will see you now.”
Kasey nodded in thanks and stepped into the office. The chief sat at his desk, pen in hand as he worked through an impressive stack of reports that were piled across the desk. At a glance, the chief seemed in his early fifties, his hair, once black was now mostly a silvered gray. His stern blue eyes seemed to see straight through Kasey as he looked up from his desk.
“Miss Chase, could you close the door?” he asked
“Certainly,” she replied, easing the heavy glass door shut.
“Grab a seat.” He motioned to the chair sitting before his heavy oak desk.
She sat down, her heart skipping a beat as she waited for the chief to speak.
“I’m sure you are wondering why you are here, Miss Chase,” he began.
“Yes, sir.”
“I’d prefer chief. I haven’t been knighted…not that I know of, anyway,” he continued.
“Of course, chief,” she said in a hurry.
“Simply put, I just got off the phone with the Mayor.”
“The mayor?” she asked, confused.
“Yes. I’ve been in this office twelve years and I can count on both hands the number of times the mayor has called me personally. So, when the mayor calls and asks about one of my staff who have been on the job less than a week, I take notice.”
“He called about me, chief?” she asked, shrinking back into the chair.
“Indeed. Would you mind explaining why?” The Chief pressed, his voice gentle but firm.
“If I had to guess I would say it’s because of my incident at the OCME.”
“What incident?” West asked. “I wasn’t entirely clear about the circumstances surrounding your transfer here.”
“May I speak frankly?” she asked.
“The only kind of talk I have much time for,” he replied.
“I was harassed, chief. John Ainsley spanked me, so I broke his ribs. If I had to guess, I’d say the Ainsleys have friends in the mayor’s office. That call is their little way of telling me they haven’t forgotten me.”
“Broke his ribs, you say?” the chief asked as he leaned back in his chair.
“Yes, chief. Three, I believe,” Kasey responded, not the least bit repentant.
“I see. Well, the Ainsleys are going to be disappointed. I judge my staff on their merits. My opinion can’t be bought with wealth and privilege. Keep your head down and your nose clean and you’ll be fine. Assault any of my officers, on the other hand, and you’ll be in a cell so fast your head will spin. Do you understand me?”
“Absolutely,” Kasey replied, nodding emphatically.
The chief nodded appreciatively, “Broke three ribs, huh. Not bad at all. Kickboxer?”
“Mixed Martial Arts, chief. I train every day, helps me stay focused.”
“I bet it does. Well, at least we know you can take care of yourself. Welcome to the Fighting Ninth, Kasey. You’re excused, just make sure I don’t receive any more calls.”
“You got it, sir…I mean, chief,” Kasey stammered as she bolted to her feet. She pulled open the door and made her way to the elevator.
Mashing the call button Kasey tapped her foot impatiently. It couldn’t come quick enough. The elevator arrived with a ding, and its doors parted. Kasey rode it down to the basement. When the doors opened, she came face-to-face with Bishop.
“We got him, Kasey.” Bishop shouted shaking her fist in the air.
“Got who?” she asked, still processing the bizarre meeting with Chief West.
“The boyfriend. Picked him up at work. Says he had no idea about his girlfriend.”
“You believe him?” Kasey asked as she tried to read Bishop’s face.
“Not at all. He’s cooling in an interrogation room now. Ready to take a run at him with me?”
“I don’t really know anything about interrogations,” Kasey protested.
“You don’t need to do anything. Just listen and let me know if anything he says rings false with the scene as you saw it.
“Sounds easy enough. When are we doing it?”
“Now,” Bishop replied.
Chapter Four
With their lead suspect in custody and not a shred of evidence, Kasey bit her lip.
Bishop stepped into the elevator and punched the button for the second floor.
“So, what have you got for me, Chase?” she began as the doors slid shut.
“Me?” Kasey’s heart raced. “Nothing yet. I’d barely walked in the door when I got dragg
ed up to meet the chief.
“Oh, a trip to the fourth floor?” Bishop asked. “How did it go?”
“About as well as could be expected. The Ainsleys have the mayor pressuring him about me. Trying to get me fired, or run out of town, whatever they can manage.”
“I bet you’re glad you broke those ribs now,” Bishop replied.
“If I’d known this would be my reward, I’d have hit him harder,” Kasey answered unapologetically.
“What did West have to say about it?”
“Not a lot, to be honest. Told me to keep my nose clean and do my job. That was about it.”
Bishop fixed Kasey with a stern stare. “I’ve been to the fourth floor, Kasey. What else did he say?”
Kasey threw up both hands in submission. “He said if I hit one of his officers, he’ll throw me in a cell.”
Bishop nodded. “Heed the warning. When it comes to West, the bite is even worse than the bark. The Fighting Ninth gets its reputation from West. He sets the standard and we tow the line.”
“Point taken. I’ll keep that in mind next time I’m thinking of thumping someone,” Kasey laughed as the elevator dinged.
Bishop led the way through the bullpen, to the interrogation rooms. Reaching the door, she turned to Kasey. “Remember, you don’t need to say anything. Just sit and listen. Make sure his story checks out with our scene. If there is an inconsistency, we pick at it until his story comes apart.”
“Seen but not heard. I get it,” Kasey replied. Remembering Brad’s drunken demeanor from the vision, she found it unlikely she’d wish to speak with him anyway.
Bishop pushed open the door. “Mr Tescoe, I’m Detective Bishop. We appreciate you coming in.”
Kasey recognized Brad immediately. He was wearing the same grease-stained overalls he’d had on the night before. Either he owned more than one pair, or he’d not changed since the day before. Judging by the odor, either option was equally likely.
“You make it sound like I had a choice.” Brad ground his teeth. “You show up at my workplace and drag me off in the middle of my shift. What’s my boss going to think?”
“Well, that depends, Mr Tescoe. If we charge you with something, he just might think you’re a murderer,” Bishop replied, sitting down opposite of Brad.
Kasey followed suit and took the chair beside her.
“I ain't no murderer. I told your boys already I didn’t even know she’d been killed till you all showed up. That sort of thing can get a man fired, ya know.”
“Mr Tescoe… May I call you Brad?” Bishop asked.
“I’d rather you didn’t.”
Bishop didn’t flinch. “Well, Brad, if your girlfriend hadn’t turned up dead, none of us would be here.”
“I told you, I didn’t kill her,” Brad spat as he leaned forward his hands slapping down on the table.
“Easy, Brad. You come over that table and we’ll be adding assaulting an officer to your list of charges.”
“Well, stop accusing me of something I didn’t do,” he said, slumping back in the chair.
Bishop mirrored Brad’s tone as she replied. “Why don’t you tell us what you do know, Brad? From this side of the table, it’s not looking great.”
“That’s the frustrating part,” Brad said. “I came home last night. I’d been drinking. She took out the trash and I passed out on the couch. When I woke up, she was gone. I thought she’d left for work early. At least I did until you dragged me in here.”
“See, Brad, that’s where we have a problem. Your neighbors heard the pair of you fighting last night. Leaving that part out doesn’t do much to build trust,” Bishop said, leaning back in her chair.
Brad groaned and slumped back in his chair. Kasey watched with interest as Bishop waited. Even without training, Kasey knew the game. Bishop was hoping if he got worked up enough he’d make a mistake, perhaps let something slip that would give them a lead. The sad reality was Bishop’s probe was a bluff. Despite him having motive and being under the influence, there was nothing to place Brad in the alley with Beth the night before.
Brad collected himself. “Last time I checked, I’m innocent until proven guilty, not vice versa. You have no evidence, and you won’t find any, because it wasn’t me. Sure, things were rough between Beth and I, but I’d never hurt her. You have the wrong man. So, let me go or give me my phone call, because when my lawyer arrives, your case will fall apart like the wet paper bag that it is.”
Bishop’s face was impassive, but Kasey knew the writing was on the wall. Brad was going to walk.
“We have a witness who saw you leave your apartment,” Kasey blurted, recalling her vision. “So, you weren’t passed out on the couch like you claim.”
Brad’s face fell, but only for a moment. “Well, unless your witness saw me walk downstairs and kill my girlfriend, then I’m going to say your case is just as shoddy as it was before. Worse, perhaps. You are clutching at straws.”
Bishop turned to Kasey and shook her head. “Alright, Brad. You’re free to go. Don’t leave town though.”
Brad’s chair ground against the floor as he slid backwards. “Oh, I’m not going anywhere. Why would I? I’m innocent.” Brad’s lips turned into an almost smug grin. “See you around, detectives.”
He opened the door, and sauntered through it.
Bishop turned to Kasey. “You didn’t tell me we have a witness.”
Kasey realized she’d spilled the contents of her vision unintentionally. “I’m sorry… we don’t. I was bluffing. I just wanted to shake him.”
“Bold move, Kasey, but you played our hand and now we have nothing. If we couldn’t shake him today, our next attempt is going to be even less convincing. Let’s hope Vida can turn up something, ’cause right now we’re done.”
“Did I hear my name?” a voice called.
Kasey looked up to see Vida standing in the doorway.
“Spit it out, Vida. I’m in no mood,” Bishop answered.
“In that case, would you rather the good news or the bad?” Vida replied.
Seeing Bishop’s sullen face, Kasey spoke up. “Good, Vida. We’ll take the good.”
“Well, we’re still running the labs but having just met Brad, I can tell you he’s not our man…”
“How do you figure that?” Bishop replied. “Their relationship was on the rocks, he has no alibi, and the neighbors heard them arguing.”
“All true, Bishop, but that man is five foot six at the most, and did you shake his hand? They’re tiny. The bruising on Beth’s throat came from much larger hands and a man or woman tall enough that they didn’t have to reach up to do it. Remember Beth was close to six feet tall.”
“You’re not making any sense,” Kasey replied.
Vida scurried over to the table and grabbed the case file from in front of Bishop. Pointing to the pen in her hand, he asked, “May I?”
“By all means,” Bishop replied, handing it over.
Vida hurriedly sketched a crude outline of a human neck and vertebrae before continuing. “Taking into account Beth’s height, if our victim were indeed strangled by someone as short as Brad. he would have had to reach up to do it. Meaning his hands would been placed like this…” Vida carefully sketched diagonal lines from the back of the neck on an upward arc toward her chin.
“I’m assuming she was strangled from behind, which makes sense based on the scene. Certainly, if she’d have been grabbed from the front, we would have had more indication of a struggle as she fought with her assailant—skin under her fingernails and so on—but she didn’t fight, because she didn’t see it coming. So, Brad would have left marks much like these, but instead, the marks on Beth’s neck run from a higher point at the back of her neck to a point far lower under her larynx or Adam’s apple, meaning…” Vida paused for effect.
“She was strangled by someone much taller than her,” Bishop concluded.
“Not necessarily,” Kasey answered. “She could have been on the ground already when her
neck was broken. Maybe she slipped over and hit her head and Brad simply found her and finished the job.”
“An unlikely scenario given the evidence we have to deal with. Brad may be a mechanic but he’s a scrawny one at that. The strength required to break someone’s neck like that… I’m not sure he has it in him,” Vida answered. “So, I don’t think he’s your man.”
“Right…” Bishop said. “So, we have less than nothing. How is that good news?”
“Well, if he’s not your man, you don’t have to worry so much about that botched interrogation,” Vida offered.
“What makes you think it was botched?” Kasey protested.
“The man I met in the hallway just now, he was practically chipper. Not the look of a man on the ropes in a murder investigation. Probably because he’s innocent.”
“Agree to disagree,” Kasey answered, her vision still fresh in her mind. Brad was involved; she just knew it.
I need a way to prove it.
“Still waiting on the good news, Vida,” Bishop prodded.
“Well, that was it, but if you’re still needing a pick-me-up, we know the perp is likely six feet tall, or more, with biceps the size of Boston. So at least it’s something, and definitely more than you had this morning.” Vida straightened up looking awfully proud of himself.
“If that was the good news, what was the bad?” Bishop asked, folding her arms.
“Oh, that,” Vida answered, stroking his chin as if he were deep in thought. “If it wasn’t Brad, Kasey owes me twenty bucks.”
“What?” Bishop replied, her temper rising.
“I’ll grab it later, not to worry.” With that, Vida backed away until he neared the door, then spun around and disappeared without another word.
When he was gone, Bishop turned to Kasey. “You made a bet with Vida?”
“It seemed like easy money,” Kasey replied, shaking her head.
“Well, you won’t do that again, will you?” Bishop replied. “Don’t feel bad, most people around here have made that mistake at least once. The silly ones are the ones that keep at it.”
Kasey looked away, a little embarrassed.
“You didn’t…” Bishop asked.
“Yep, bet him lunch tomorrow that he couldn’t go a day without gambling,” Kasey answered.