Who Protects The Protector?
Albuquerque PD Detective Bobby Dershowitz happened to be on duty and caught the call about the homicide. Arriving at the crime scene just minutes after the ambulance, he watched the paramedics working on the injured victim. "Any ID on either of them?"
The patrol officer turned to Dershowitz, wallet in hand. "None on the girl but ID on the man says he's a US marshal—Marshall Mann."
"Damn," the detective muttered. He wasn't looking forward to breaking the news to Mann's superior. But at least he could pass it on to his partner. "Let's go see the girl."
"She's over here. Bastard damn near decapitated her when he cut her," the officer swore leading Dershowitz a few feet away.
The detective looked down at the young woman lying on the soggy ground. Although the rain had washed away most of the blood, revealing the varied slash marks including the one across her throat. It had most likely been the fatal one, severing both the juggler vein and carotid arteries, leading her to bleed maybe a minute. "Whoever did this was literally covered in her blood. Get a couple of officers to help check out the dumpsters in a five block radius," he instructed.
"Got a gun over here," the crime scene tech announced carefully holding up the firearm.
Dershowitz gave it a cursory glance and said, "Go ahead and run a check on the registration number but it'll probably turn out to be Mann's. He's got a carry permit but he usually won't pull out his piece unless he feels it's absolutely necessary. I can't say the same for some of the others we issue permits to."
The tech carefully bagged the gun as possible evidence anyway and resumed his search of the still wet alley. "Not gonna have a snowball's chance in Hell of finding much after the storm," he was muttering as he carefully shined his flashlight.
Dershowitz had to silently agree as he noticed that the paramedics were getting ready to move the gurney. "What hospital are you taking him to?" he asked.
"Albuquerque Medical Center. Now if you'll excuse us, we really need to get a move on," the older of the two said, carefully helping to guide the gurney on the uneven ground.
The detective made a quick mental note of which hospital. Stepping aside, he caught a glimpse of the pale still figure on the gurney. Turning from the sight he moved back to the girl to wait fro the assistant ME. To arrive.
Dr. Kylie Rawlings arrived a few minutes later and went to examine the body. Carefully making a small slit in the girl's side, she inserted the thermometer to get a body temperature tin order to determine time of death. "She died sometime between 11:00pam and midnight. Once I get her back to the morgue I can probably make a closer determination," she told Dershowitz.
"The storm struck about 11:15 and the murder occurred before that," he replied.
"During that time I was doing the autopsy on a fifteen month old baby girl who died of shaken baby syndrome" the assistant ME said as she directed the girl's hands to be bagged and taped in an attempt to preserve what little evidence remained.
Stepping a few feet away from the body the detective pulled out his phone and dialed the police station. "I need you to look up the number of US Marshall Stan McQueen and give it to me," he told the officer on duty.
"Yes, Sir," she replied, checking the computer database of local law enforcement. Quickly finding the phone number she read it off to Dershowitz.
He quickly copied it down and hung up the phone only to dial the number he'd just been given.
Stan had been sound asleep until the phone rang. Quickly fumbling for it, he said, "McQueen here."
"This is Bobby Dershowitz. I'm calling to let you know That Marshall Mann was assaulted earlier tonight," the detective explained.
"How? What?' Stan was asking as he reached for his shirt.
"Don't know all the answers yet. He's been taken to Albuquerque Medical Center," Bobby said. "Better let Shannon know. And I'll meet you down there."
"Be there right away," the US marshal said. He hung up the phone and then quickly speed dialed Mary Shannon's number.
Mary had finally drifted off to sleep but when her phone rang she was instantly awake. A quick check of the called ID showed it was from Stan and the first thought in her mind was they had a witness in trouble. "What's going on, Stan?" she asked.
"Mary, Marshall's in the hospital, her superior said.
"What? Which one?" she asked quickly.
"He's at Albuquerque Medical Center. I'll meet you there," Stan replied. He listened as the call was quickly cut off and resumed getting dressed.
Mary quickly jumped out of bed shedding her sleepwear and pulling on jeans and a faded T shirt. Quickly slipping her feet into a pair of sandals she grabbed keys and purse and made for the door.
From the living room came the sound of the TV and she peered in there seeing her mother start to sit up on the couch. "I heard the phone ring. What's going on?" Jinx asked.
Mary sighed and decided on the truth. "Mom I gotta go out. Stan just called and said that Marshall's in the hospital."
"Again. What happened?" Jinx asked.
"I don't know myself yet," the young woman answered catching sight of the glass on the coffee table. "How much did you have to drink?"
"Nothing but water. The Nostalgia network was running Cinderella and that actress Leslie Ann something reminds me a lot of myself when I was younger," Jinx replied.
"I remember when it used to be you'd have me and Brandi watching it with you. I'm not sure when I'll be back," Mary said as she let herself out the door. Hurrying to her car, she took a minute to check the Albuquerque map to find the quickest route to the medical center and then sped off going as fast as she dared above the speed limit and praying she didn't get pulled over.