CHAPTER SEVEN: Elderberry Whine
Lieutenant Gerome Elderberry was head of the Metro Homicide squad. He started his training late in life, compared to other cadets. He accelerated through the ranks and became head of the division. No one questioned what he did previously. They were just impressed by skills. He entered the Deville Creek apartment of Zipper Down. One hand opened the door while the other stayed in the pocket of his Versace trench coat. He pulled his hand off the doorknob. He took the same hand to pull his Gucci sunglasses down to the tip of his nose. He glanced at the chalk markings left on the floor, which had outlined Zipper’s body. Four of Elderberry’s top-notched men were combing the apartment.
“I trust every one of you fine gentlemen have done your job,” said Gerome.
“Yes, sir,” said Sergeant Dennis Wilcox, a thirty-year veteran homicide detective. Elderberry looked at the chalk line and shook his head.
“Why didn’t you use tape, Sergeant Wilcox?”
“Well, sir, you told us to use chalk on hardwood floors and…”
“Didn’t you get my memo?” Elderberry was upset.
Wilcox hesitated. “Uh, no, sir. I haven’t seen any memos on this subject mat…”
“How are we supposed to be running this squad if you don’t read my goddamn memos? I am so disappointed in all you gentlemen.” Gerome took his glasses off, folded them ever so gently, and put them in the case with the touch of a mother handling a newborn. “I want all you boys to get the hell out of here. Go back to the station and find the memo. I want a full report – not on this young man’s death – but on the importance of reading my damn memos.”
Sergeant Wilcox turned to the other officers, shrugged his brawny shoulders, and led them out the room. As he passed in front of Elderberry, Gerome grabbed him by the shoulder.
“Wilcox, I’m putting you on suspension until further notice for botching up this job,” said Elderberry.
Two months previously, Wilcox had been demoted from Captain. He was moved down two levels and was now a Sergeant. Chief Samuel Bushman had accused him of mishandling evidence in a case involving Carlos Verona, a local businessman. Wilcox was the head of the homicide division until the false accusation. He was replaced by Elderberry. He just reached the pinnacle of his frustration. Wilcox grabbed Gerome’s hand and slowly pulled it off his shoulder. He grabbed his badge out his the pocket of his Burlington Coat Factory blazer, then threw it on the floor next to Elderberry’s Ferragomo shoes.
“Suck – my – dick. I quit,” said the humiliated detective. The other officers snickered as they followed Wilcox out the door.
Elderberry, unaffected by the comment, carefully surveyed the scene for a couple of hours before leaving. He instructed the officer guarding the door not to let anyone but him return to the apartment.
“If anyone so much as steps one toe into the doorway of this crime scene, I will make sure that the nose on your face makes a permanent union with the part of your body where the sun does not shine,” he told the officer.
The Devil's in My Bathroom Page 8