Chapter One
It was far too cold, far too dark and certainly far too early for Detective Flack.
Looking around at the fresh crime scene around him, he knew there was good reason to hate Monday mornings.
Any other day he would have been thrilled to be stood outside the grounds of Madison Square Gardens. In fact, he'd only been there the week before with Charlie, enjoying her Christmas present to him, front row tickets to the Rangers vs. Devils. But at gone three in the morning and surrounded by a string of crime tape, it was a little hard to appreciate the grandeur of the building behind him.
He started to rub his bare hands together in a poor attempt to keep them warm when he felt the sharp sting of the cold creeping through once again. The loss of one glove had resulted in the lack of them all together. Something he'd been silently cursing from the moment he'd stomped out of his apartment after a failed attempt to find the misplaced leather glove. A disastrous search that even Charlie had joined in on when she'd stormed out of the bedroom, the noise of his rummage waking her. Something Flack knew hadn't gone down well, since that morning was the start of her day off, the first in a very long time.
The alleyway where the body had been found was secluded, off the side of the Gardens and not too far from Penn Station. Being tucked away didn't mean the avoidance of the elements. The fact that he was stood slap bang in the middle of it only meant that the cold winds had better chance of reaching him. He scoured the roads once more for any sign of the familiar vehicles that would signal the arrival of CSI.
But the streets remained empty, and considering it was nearing just after three twenty and crime tape was up, it was of no real surprise. Fed up of standing still, he followed the path he'd carved out, from the body to the sidewalk to get a better view of the road. He'd been pacing back and forth the path for the past ten minutes, waiting for the CSI's that were long overdue in joining him. Then there were the twenty minutes scouring the area with the reporting officer securing it and prior to that had been a painful thirty-minute wait for the ME on call.
The air carried a harsh chill and the mornings were dark and dreary. Which made it an effort for a usually spry Flack to get out of bed most days. But as Saturday evening had drawn in it'd brought with it a somewhat warmer breeze through the streets of the city. Though the only evidence of this was through the weather reports constantly on the TV in the break rooms at both the precinct and the crime labs.
But a frosty Flack swore it was just as cold as the day before, and the day before that.
It'd been the same thing for the three weeks past Christmas leading into January, bitter winds and freezing snow. Causing major delays to the roads and almost resulted in bringing New York to a standstill the previous week. That was until the mayor deployed all public services to help the council workers of the city clear the streets. Flack grimaced at the thought, he'd had to participate in something similar when he'd first started as a first grade officer, and was only thankful when he made the grade for detective, meaning he didn't have to participate in such drives anymore.
Unfortunately, the somewhat slightly warmer climate had given the opportunity for some of the frozen snow to thaw. Then as soon as Sunday night drew in it brought back the harsh chill with a vengeance. What snow that'd had chance to defrost had now formed an icy glaze across the sidewalks of the city. Something Flack had quickly learnt the hard way when he promptly slid down the steps of the apartment building he'd reluctantly left behind.
He could see the street workers out at the end of the block, spraying salt onto the streets and sidewalks in hope of preventing any more accidents in the early morning rush hour. For a moment, he envied the simplicity of their job and part of him wished he could have just a slice of their normality in his everyday life, rather than dealing with the complexity of the actions one human could inflict on another.
Trying to rid himself of the images of being buried knee deep in freezing snow, he drew in a deep breath and rubbed his bare hands together once more for warmth. He was certain they were going blue – but with little light above him to confirm it, he had to stick with his assumption that they were in the process of dropping off. At least that was what he was going to tell Charlie, in his argument that she was unsympathetic in kicking him out of his apartment only hours ago after his cell phone had rung again for the third time in as many minutes.
"Detective."
Flack turned around to the reporting officer who was only a few years shy of his own, "Yes."
"I've finished here, do you want me to head over to Penn Station?"
Flack scratched his chin as he looked around at the scene behind him. In all other circumstances, he knew it was a risk leaving himself alone at a crime scene with only a ME and dead body, but as the crime scene was secured, he agreed.
"Yeah, put out word that we want any security footage around the west side of the building. Maybe something'll show up."
"Gotta love Monday mornings." The officer quipped, before tipping his cap at the detective and heading off.
Flack groaned – there was a love/hate relationship between him and Monday mornings. They inevitably meant 'on call', though they gave him Saturday nights off – Sunday night would be spent in limbo, too afraid to stray far from his apartment for fear his page or cell would go off. But thanks to some quick thinking and a little sprinkle of charm and persuasion, he'd managed to get out of the past three weeks of on call duty.
Usually calm, Flack was very quickly becoming agitated and the conditions surrounding the latest case were not helping. Despite his personal inconveniences dampening his day, the weather was only helping him by continuing the theme. What little evidence they would be able to gather was slowly being compromised by the snow that was threatening to fall and at a time when he had to be missing a glove.
Not the way he'd envisioned the day starting.
"Hey Flack!"
The detective spun around and practically slid across to the tape Stella was currently ducking under, followed closely by Danny.
"Dammit." He cursed when his elbow connected with the brick wall next to him in his attempt to steady himself.
"You ought to watch it there Don, we need you in one piece. Not in A&E." Stella quipped, tugging her scarf tighter around her neck. The detective envious of the warmth it appeared to bring her.
Flack ground his teeth against the dull pain that was shooting up his arm. "Trust me, ER is starting to look far more appealing."
The rubber gloves came out of her kit to replace the woollen ones she was wearing. Even the fact that they were pink wasn't enough to stop Flack from considering asking her if he could borrow them
"Dare I ask?" She questioned.
Flack simply raised an eyebrow; the expression on his face was enough of an answer for the CSI.
"Let's just move on to our DB taking up residence in the alley shall we?" He said motioning for the CSI's to follow him before he dug his hands back into the pockets of his coat. "And forget the fact you two are forty-five minutes late."
"Hey man, not our fault. They've cut off most of the streets." Danny answered as he popped open his own kit. "They're trying to de-ice the roads before there's anymore crashes on the ice."
"Tell me about it." Flack pitched in, "I lost count of the detours I had to take yesterday just to get from my apartment to the precinct."
Stella stepped between the two men and started to snap shots of anything viable that could come as any use later on at the labs. "So what have we got?"
Only a short hour before Flack had been woken from his sleep, Blake Dawson was doing his last round of the grounds before he clocked off as one of the night watchman team at the Gardens. Desperate to finish his shift, knowing he was half an hour away from a real cup of coffee and his bed he looped back on his route for the west side entrance ticket booth. Passing by his torchlight skimmed the alleyway that ran alongside the building, parallel with Penn Station. He would have continued walking back to the staff room for his belongings had it not been for the flash of red that caught his eye at a last moment glance prompting his further inspection.
The young woman had looked unusually peaceful lain upon the crisp white snow. The 'red' that had initially caught the security guards attention had been the skirt of the decadent blood red dress the victim was clothed in, an overly extravagant strapless gown and shoeless.
But as Blake tried desperately to stir her, thinking it may have been too much drink that had caused her to fall on her way home, it soon became evident that the woman was in no deep sleep and something far more unpleasant had happened.
"Our security guard Blake Dawson over there, called in the DB at twelve fifty this morning on his last round of the front entrances. The ME arrived just before me, at twenty past one. Pronounced her as officially dead five minutes later but no cause of death. Because of the compromise of temperatures he tells me, it's going to be hard to determine an exact time."
Danny let out a slow whistle as he looked down at the woman for the first time, "Those are some fancy threads."
Flack nodded, he wasn't up on his designers, but he was a dutiful boyfriend and had watched enough Sex and The City to know that the dress certainly wasn't off some rack at Macy's.
"She definitely wasn't shopping on a budget for this one." Stella commented, the only woman at the scene and enough dress shopping under her belt to compensate.
Flack shifted to allow Danny to get by. He couldn't help but take another look at the young woman. She did indeed look disturbingly peaceful against the mounds of snow surrounding her, especially with her blonde curls pooled neatly around her shoulders framing her face. The deep red shade of lipstick she wore did well to hide the true blue of her lips.
"So, ID'd our vic yet?" Stella asked.
Flack shook his head; so far both he and the reporting officer had come up empty handed in their search for any ID around the dead woman's body. Even the ME hadn't found anything on the dress.
"Big fat zilch. No purse, no ID. We've just got to hope she's in the system somewhere, that or someone has reported her missing or in the process of doing so."
Stella frowned, "A woman dressed and looking like this is certainly going to be missed."
"Then I guess footprints are out of the question too." Danny remarked as he looked up to the skies as fresh snow started to fall again, for the second time already that morning.
Their DB had been found partially covered by a mound of snow, which had initially looked like it'd been disturbed by her presumed fall to the ground. Any footprints that may or may not have been there before her discovery had been seriously compromised as a result by the CSI's delay in arriving to the crime scene.
Stella snapped several more shots before she stored her camera away in its holdall hooked over her shoulder. "We're going to be lucky if we get any trace out of here at this rate." She sighed, dropping the holdall down and reaching for her kit again. "Any witnesses?"
"We've got an officer in Penn Station trying to get a hold of security footage, hopefully one of their cameras might have picked up our vic. I'm still waiting on answers." Flack turned around and looked out at the vast area surrounding the Gardens. "We're looking Stell, but with our vic being tucked away down here our chances are slim."
"But not impossible." Stella quipped, shooting the detective a smirk. "We better get started Danny. We've got no choice but to process the body in the ME's office. Get them to bag her along with the snow surrounding. We'll collect the rest."
"We're collecting snow now?" Danny gawked.
Stella nodded in the direction of the ME, "Tell them they can start moving the body." She turned to the homicide detective once more. "Has the area been swept?"
"Am I a boy from Yonkers?" He grinned, "Twice so far, and again, nothing."
"I get the feeling we've got a very long day ahead of us."
Danny soon arrived back with the ME in tow. Stella, finishing her quick sweep of the area, watched as they loaded the woman onto the gurney and into a body bag.
"Wait a minute!" Stella shouted, noticing the glimmer from her left ear wasn't replicated on the right. She grabbed her camera again. "She's missing an earring."
"And there I am thinking it was just a fashion trend." Flack quipped as he winced at the flash that came from the camera.
Danny laughed, "Says the man wearing the tie that looks like a three year old designed it."
"Hey," Flack objected. "Charlie bought me this."
"Then she truly has your, ahem, style down to a tee." He teased. "Hey, weren't you here the other week Flack?"
"Uh huh." The detective grinned, "Rangers vs. Devils."
"Good game?"
"My boys did me proud. 5-3 with a sweet hit of the puck scoring the final point in the last three minutes."
Stella turned to the assistant coroner, who was pulling up the zip on their victim's body bag once Stella announced once more she was satisfied she had enough shots. "Who's the coroner on duty this morning?"
"Marty Pino."
"Tell him I want a full report once the autopsy is finished. Danny go with them and make a start with trace and DNA. I have a feeling that dress is going to be key."
"On it boss."
"You need me for anything Stell?" Flack asked, hoping she'd say no and he could leave her with one of the officers who'd not long turned up so he could find a hot cup of coffee somewhere indoors.
"Stick around detective, you might just have your uses."
All hope of escaping to warmer climates were dashed, reluctantly the detective followed the CSI further into the alleyway.