Disclaimer: I don't own Body of Proof and intend no copyright infringement.
~ in coldest blood ~
It was three o'clock in the morning. Light rain was coming down from a moonless sky in a thin veil, vaguely illuminated by the street lamps.
Neither Adam Lucas nor Tommy Sullivan said a word as they pulled up in front of the apartment house right by the intersection.
Only women small-talked at this unholy hour. They were guys. They kept their mouths shut till there actually was something to talk about.
Despite its location the building looked well-maintained. Nice view, too, if you ignored the constant roar of the traffic, even this early in the morning. As far as they could tell in the darkness there was a small park on the other side of the road, and a playground, too. They had both definitely seen worse areas of Philly.
Predictably, the place was already crawling with people – uniformed officers, crime scene investigators, witnesses… yellow police tape flapped in the drizzle and an ambulance was just in the process of leaving again, empty. The medical examiner's car later, much later, would definitely carry a heavier load, from everything they knew so far.
Twenty years as a cop had hardened his stomach, there wasn't much Tommy hadn't encountered over time, but he would be lying if he claimed that there wasn't always a brief moment, just the tiniest split of a second, usually right before he crossed the threshold of a murder house, when he didn't feel the urge to just turn around and leave again.
Adam Lucas felt the same, but he would have rather bitten his tongue off than admitting this to someone.
Especially not to his partner Tommy, battle-hardened veteran of law enforcement and, to a certain degree that excluded his approach to women, his role model.
The initial report had described the state of the victims as "poor", and, now that they were standing in the midst of the apartment's bedroom-turned-scene-of-crime, both Adam and Tommy couldn't agree more.
"What do we have here?" Megan's voice, accompanied by the familiar clicking of her heels on the wooden floor panels in the corridor.
A soothing sound, somehow, in the midst of all this carnage. Tommy stole a second of concentration to inhale Megan's expensive perfume as she came standing by his side, impatiently waiting to be briefed.
"Two victims, one male, one female. Both in their fifties. Looks like they were asleep when somebody broke in and shot them", Adam Lucas said.
Proceeding cautiously, Megan approached the bed. The cream colored wall behind it was covered in blood spatter. Just like the carpet, the curtains and the mirror at the far end of the room. "Droplets so far away from the bodies indicates main arterial bleeding. Death within seconds. They didn't stand a chance." Producing a pair of tweezers she lifted the female victim's bed sheet a bit.
"I also think your assumption about them sleeping when it happened is correct. The blankets weren't removed and later put back by the killer. Look at the way they are tucked in underneath the arms and behind the back… that's how you do it when you fall asleep… you wrap yourself in the bed sheet… they didn't see it coming."
Nobody said it out loud, but considering that the bodies were literally riddled with bullets, probably a good thing.
One of the uniformed officers announced the arrival of the landlord and Adam went to talk to him.
"Looks like a silencer was involved", Tommy said. "The tenants claim they didn't hear a thing. Only when the dog next door didn't want to stop barking the neighbor went to check, noticed the damaged door lock and called us."
"A silencer? I don't know… A silencer is the sign of a professional and this looks like total overkill… a telltale indicator that we're dealing with an amateur." Megan shone a flashlight at the murdered man's face. He had a graying moustache and bushy eyebrows that looked as if at one point in his life they had been singed off and later regrown.
"The golden chain around his neck should be worth several hundred dollars", she said. "Either the burglar didn't see, or…"
"This wasn't a break-in", Tommy finished her sentence. "The apartment was tossed, but not like a burglar would have done… Looks more like a cover up to me."
"I've just talked to the landlord…" Tucking his notepad away, Adam Lucas came back in. "The apartment is rented out to a woman named Luisa Perez. She is in her early twenties, a waitress at the diner two blocks down the road. Tried calling them, they're closed for the night. She doesn't answer her cell."
"So who are these two?", Tommy said, frowning.
"I've already asked the neighbor with the dog, he says he has no idea", Adam shrugged. "It seems Luisa Perez is rarely home and even when she is she doesn't really socialize with her neighbors."
Suddenly Megan sniffed, first at the male, then at the female body. Frowning, she looked around the room. "Could you… could you, please?" She made waving gestures with her arms.
Exchanging puzzled looks, both Tommy and Adam moved out of the way.
"They both consumed alcohol before they went to sleep. Judging from the smell, quite a bit of it. And look at the discarded clothes everywhere on the floor. I don't think that was done by the murderer when he tossed up the apartment. There's blood spatter on the clothes… I think these two had a wild night…"
"That turned wilder than they had bargained for", Tommy nodded.
An officer called from the kitchen – they had found a woman's purse with a driving license in it. The picture matched the female victim.
"Martha Ruiz", Adam read from the card. "Ruiz? The tenant's name is Perez…"
"And her companion here seems to be Mr. Carlos Alba…" Megan lifted a wallet from discarded trousers on the floor. "No Perez either… well, once I've got them on the table I might know more."
"I'm with the medical examiner", an unfamiliar voice by the apartment's entrance, identifying himself to the officer on watch, could be heard just then. "Steven Kershaw, Medical Investigator."
Megan rolled her eyes in an expression of obvious annoyance and was still pouting when a young man appeared by the doorstep of the bedroom. He was slightly older than Adam, short blond hair, a bit ruffled – from having to get up at this unholy hour or because it always looked like that? His broad shoulders indicated he was into some kind of physically demanding sport, football maybe.
"You accidentally left the wrong address of the crime scene for me, Dr. Hunt", he said, smiling, not a hint of irony in his voice. "Luckily the police department could help me out."
If looks could kill, they would have needed a third casket in that bedroom at that point.
Steven Kershaw had the sympathy of the people in attendance on his side. They all, even the uniformed police officers, knew what had happened to every single one of Dr. Hunt's assistants ever since Peter Dunlap's death.
"Well, you are too late. We're done here and heading back to the office now. I need you to stop on the way and get me a decent cup of coffee." Head held high, Megan walked past him.
"Already waiting in your car, Dr. Hunt. I took the liberty of making a short detour so you'd be able to start with the autopsy right away." Nodding in departure, still smiling in a friendly, totally unforced, non-triumphant way, Steven Kershaw turned around and followed Megan.
"Something tells me he's a bit above trained monkey level", Adam grinned.
Then the men with the zinc caskets walked in and back to gruesome business they were.