3. Disbelief in murder
The hotel room had little personality. The walls were a faded yellow with mismatched curtains of a dark shade of red. The furniture was what you would expect to find in a hotel room but no more than that. Never the less, it was adequate for her. She had no interest in being inside, not with so much to discover out there. This city was incredible, it held all of her past and soon it might even become her future again. She looked into mirror and put the hat right, that is to say, a little askew. It was time to venture out again. She turned away from the mirror and her gaze fell on the dark screen of the TV. In it she saw the ghostly outline of a woman dressed in an Al Capone-suit. A ghost she was, a relic from the past. She smiled, lost in thoughts.
The hotel hallway resembled the room; unpersonal. Its grey and white walls were complemented with a dark brown carpet which had evidently been put their for practical reasons rather than esthetic ones. Its irony was lost on the hasty figure walking by, the eyes fixed on the room numbers. A loud giggling made the figure jump up and retreat in the opening of a room being cleaned. Two girls chatting ran by in rather a hurry. As soon as the girls had rounded the far corner of the hallway the figure moved forward again. All too soon the number she had been looking for appeared on one of the doors. Stealth like, but determined, the figure moved towards the doors. Inside someone appeared to be moving around. The figure tried the doorknob.
Inside the room she looked down at the knob turning. She sighed, someone mistaking the room for theirs again. With an easy walk she crossed the room and opened the door. The last thing she ever saw was the barrel of a gun.
Bobby was yawning as Greg and Russell walked in.
"What are you doing here?" Greg asked the ballistics expert. "You work day, don't you?"
"Yep, but that idiot got himself shot in the foot during a reenactment battle. Can you believe it? So now I have to step in."
"Huh, so you got anything for us?"
"I do actually, and you're going to love it, Greg." Bobby said grinning.
Russell waited patiently while Bobby got the bullets. Greg on the other end seemed positively charged with electricity.
"Ok." Bobby eventually said, holding 3 evidence bags up. "This one was retrieved from the bedframe of the hotel room where you found Walters." Bobby placed it on the table in front of them, next to a photo showing the marks on the bullet.
"This one, was retrieved from Linton. And this one, came from the original crime."
Greg gasped. "That's… That's the bullet that killed her, the Desert Rose."
Bobby rolled his eyes to Russell as he put the bullet next to the third photo.
"Notice anything strange?"
"Yeah." Russell said. "Either that's the same photo three times or those bullets were fired by the same gun."
"The second actually. It looks that the original killer is on the lose again."
Greg stared at the bullets. "So whoever killed the Rose, probably killed the other two as well. Why? Because Linton and Walters had found something? And what about the girl running around putting this city in a craze?"
Russell nodded. "It's all connected. What I would like to know is what Scheltz's role is in all of this? Like you said, he reacted strangely on that photo but also… He slept with her, he knew everything and everyone around her. Maybe he knows something, something he's not telling us. I'm going to ask Brass to bring him in. 93 or not, it's time he talked."
"Somebody mentioned my name?" Brass walked in with a cool air.
"What are you doing here?"
"Came to give you this." He handed a few documents to Russell and Greg. "LVPD tracked down someone who's voice had not been heard yet. Your Rose had a niece in California."
"No way!" Greg said disbelievingly. "That would account for the photo with her baby."
"It's not hers, Greg." Russell said, looking into the papers. He handed them to Greg pointing to a passage at the bottom.
"See, Martha Cliers had twins about six months prior to the Rose's death. This is a picture of them at 8 months. The baby in the picture is not her daughter but her niece's."
"That doesn't make sense." Greg said, still not willing to believe it. "Why would she hold only one baby then? Why wouldn't both babies be in the picture then?"
Brass sighed. "Greg, I know how much you love the history of Las Vegas and all the mystery that goes with it but this is no mystery. It's not hers."
"Then why would she hide that photo?"
"Give it up, Greg. Concentrate on the murderer, that's mystery enough for now."
Somehow both Brass and Russell felt compassion for Greg as they saw the disappointment settle in his face.
Sarah Day had made herself comfortable in Brass' office. In fact, the moment she walked in it looked like it was hers. Even though Day was already well over 60 she dressed in a rather sexy way. She still looked good and she knew it. Every inch of her radiated her confidence. She smiled at Brass and even gave a warm look over her shoulder as Russell walked in.
"Miss Day, this is D.B. Russell, night shift supervisor."
"Nice to meet you." There was something vaguely seductive about her voice.
Russell thought that all by all she was not as attractive as she thought. Despite being well conserved her looks began to crack. It was difficult to say what exactly it was but Russell assumed that the effort Day was making in maintaining her looks was exactly that which would be their undoing. The color of her hair was just a little too bright, her make-up too thick and her clothes too tight. It was sad really.
"So, miss Day, what can we do for you?" Brass tone betrayed nothing.
"Well, captain Brass, I know you are not allowed to say anything about an ongoing investigation but… you must understand. Rose was my friend. She and I build up the club together. If you know who her killer is… you understand, don't you? I have to know."
It was superb, the performance would have won her an Oscar if there had been a category for it. But it was just still an act. Russell could imagine this would have won over any man who was not accustomed to it. Unfortunately for Day neither Russell nor Brass fell in that category. Both men were accustomed to being lied to, to have other people try to wiggle information out of them. It rarely worked. Russell observed Brass as the latter looked at Day. Brass hadn't moved a muscle, his arms still relaxed on his desk, hands together. When he finally spoke his voice sounded as smooth as possible with him.
"Miss Day, you are right. I can't say anything about an ongoing investigation. You must understand me: to give information to a third party could jeopardize the entire investigation. I am sure that you don't want that. I'm sure you want the murderer behind bars even more than we do since he killed your friend."
Day only displayed the minimum of disappointment. Brass knew that an unexperienced person would give it another go, insisting a little more. Only someone who knew that such a thing would be suspicious would leave it at that, someone who had experience of the criminal justice. Day was just such a person. The self-declared friend of the Rose, her business partner and advisor was nothing more than a shrewd businesswoman. She knew when to back down.
"You are right, captain Brass. I should not even have asked. I shall leave you. I can assume you will tell me when the investigation is finished though?" She added while getting up.
Brass allowed himself a thin little smile which sent shivers over Russells back.
"Off course. But now that you are here, there might be something you can help us with."
"Please, anything."
"We've been looking into the past and we were wondering if you know any relatives of the Rose who could tell us more about her."
Day seemed slightly taken aback. She hesitated before answering.
"She never mentioned any family, captain. I'm sure I would have remembered if she did. She often said that me and the girls were her only family. May I go now? The club will open in an hour and I need to receive a couple of VIP's."
"That was all."
Both men watched her walk away. Russell was the first to offer his thoughts.
"Wow, that's one viper in disguise."
"No kidding, I've seen her kind here before. She's a businesswoman, will go over dead bodies to get her way. Solving the crimes is not very high on her list of priorities. Her business thrives because of the legend of the Rose. Solving her murder could diminish it. On the other hand, if it was solved it would be better for her to have a hand in it so she could claim 'victory'."
"Still, she lied. We already found the niece. Why would she do that?"
Brass made a gesture. "Don't know, maybe she genuinely didn't know. I have a feeling the Rose didn't see eye to eye with her all the time."
The hotel to which Nick and Sarah had been called was no grand luxury but it looked clean, the kind of budget hotel you'd take if you didn't have that much money but still preferred some comfort. It was situated in a calm area not that far of the strip. It was surrounded by shops and some living blocks. There were some people in the street looking at the hotel and the police that was going in and out. Nick smiled; he thought it was the sign of a good neighborhood when people actually came out to see what was going on when the cops pulled up. Suddenly something caught his eye and his smile froze. A young woman had just broken away from the small group of people who had gathered at the end of the street watching the hotel. She walked towards the corner and just as she was going to round it she stopped and turned. She looked one last time at the scene before the hotel and then she was gone.
"Hey, sleepy head! Are you ok? You look as white as a sheet."
Sarah slapped Nick on the shoulder, making him jump.
"Huh. I… I'm fine. Did you see her?"
"See who?"
"Well, I think… I think I just saw her."
"See who, Nick? You're not making any sense."
"The Rose, Sarah. I just saw the Rose!" Nick got more and more exited. "She walked away from the from those people over there. I saw her!"
Sarah sighed. "Nick, you're getting infected with this case. Greg, yes, from him I would expect this but please… not you as well."
Nick stared at her for a second. Every line in her face suggested her impatience with this case. Sarah had never been one for legends and folklore. But this was a bit harsh, she genuinely seemed to dislike this case.
"You really don't like this case, do you?"
"Let's see, a girl decides to play dress up and ends up causing a frenzy in a city that's already high on alcohol and cocaine. Result: 2 dead and an entire team of CSI's on a ghost hunt."
This time Nick started smiling. He understood. "Aaah, you were supposed to go on holiday today and Ecklie said you can't go until this case is solved, didn't he?"
"Spot on! Now let's get on with it."
They passed the receptionist who was as white as a sheet but talking to an officer and followed another officer dawn a grey and white hallway. A detective they hadn't met before was waiting for them. He didn't look too happy.
"Hey, Nick Stokes and Sarah Sidle, crime lab."
"Detective Novak. Yes, I'm new and no, I didn't know who the Rose was."
Nick raised his eyebrows to the young man who would've looked like a blond surfgod if it hadn't been for the fact that he was 5'2.
"Sorry, but I've been bugged about that for the past half hour."
"Don't worry, but… why are they asking you about the Rose?" Sarah asked.
As an answer Novak pointed to the body that was lying in front of the open door. She was dressed in the typical Al Capone-suit of the Rose. She wore the same lipstick and had the same blue eyes. The only difference was the short blond hair. The Rose had been dark brown, cut of at the shoulder.
"Oh hell, I think this is the final goodbye to your holiday, Sarah." Nick said.
"I'm going to kill whoever is responsible for this." Sarah responded.
"You think it's her?" Sarah said some 15 minutes later.
Both CSI's were in the middle of processing the room, the body still were it had fallen since the coroner was taking his time arriving.
"I don't think so. I think Greg mentioned that the Rose was 5'3 and had dark brown hair at shoulder length."
"Well I have something that might explain the hair."
Sarah was holding up a wig which resembled the Rose's last hair style.
"Huh, still no, Sarah. You forget, I saw her in front of the hotel."
Sarah sighed and wanted to return to work, only to be stopped by a familiar voice coming from the doorway.
"Saw who, Stokes?"
Ecklie was standing just outside the door next to Russell. Neither of them looked very happy. Although Ecklie was a lot worse at concealing it.
"Huh…" Nick didn't really know how to explain this one the sheriff of Las Vegas. "Well… When we arrived here I think I saw the Rose walk away."
Russell, who had kneeled next to the victim, looked up and Ecklie gave Nick a look of pure disbelieve.
"Keep it together, Stokes. The last thing I can use is a CSI hallucinating."
"I was not hallucinating, Conrad!" Nick protested. "I really saw someone that looked exactly like the Rose walk away from the hotel."
"It might be a good idea to check the security tapes of the hotel, Conrad." Russell said, getting back up. "Maybe Nick really saw her, could give us a clue about who she really is. Hell, we might even get lucky and get the killer on camera."
"What if they are the same?"
Everyone looked at Sarah.
"Think about it, guys. A mysterious woman, who looks exactly like the Desert Rose, shows up in Vegas. Nobody knows who she is or can even find her. Yet, shortly after people start seeing her, bodies start appearing. I don't think that's coincidence, do you?"
Russell sighed. "You're right but then again; about everyone in this case has a motive of some sort or is acting suspicious in another way. There's Scheltz, the old security manager, who isn't telling everything he knows. And did I mention that Brass and I got a visit from miss Day, who was most interested in any leads we might have?"
Ecklie seemed slightly taken aback by the mentioning of that name. "She's been to see you? Well, she is a businesswoman who is running the Rose's old club."
Sarah smelled a slight opportunity for revenge and took it.
"Yeah, talking about miss Day, I've also met her. She said she hadn't seen you at the club for a while, she actually sounded worried. Greg and I assured her that you were just working hard on that budget."
Ecklie's face was a goldmine. It was hard to tell which emotion was going to win: fury or embarrassment. Russell suddenly showed a lot of interest in the doorknob and Nick decided it was safer to follow his superior's example and dusted a mirror for prints… for the second time. Ecklie somehow managed to get his face back straight and looked at Sarah for a moment before turning around and leaving.
"I want a report by tomorrow morning, Russell." Was the last thing they heard him say.
His departure was made up by detective Novak walking in.
"So, anyone interested in the details of our vic?"
Russell looked slightly surprised by the cheerful tone of the detective but decided to hold out on the verdict.
"Come on, Novak, don't keep us waiting." Nick joked, he had immediately liked the detective.
Novak cleared his throat before starting.
"The vic's name is Felicia Townsend, 23. Comes from Connecticut and was here to celebrate her divorce."
"At 23?" Sarah sounded surprised.
"Huh yeah, according to the bartender, to whom she spilled the contents of her life story, she married at 19 because she was pregnant but she lost the baby and eventually her husband. The latter to her best friend. Felicia was rather fond of dress up, she wanted to be a performance artist who dressed up as famous people, which would explain her current outfit, I suppose."
"So she came to practice." Russell said thoughtfully.
"Well, according to the manager she had been asking questions on what a girl would have to do to get permanent lodgings. I think she got under Vegas' spell." Novak concluded grinning.
This time Russell reached his verdict about the young detective. Despite his somewhat humoristic approach to the situation, Russell decided to like him.
"Good job, detective."
"Oh, but I kept the best for the last, sir." He held up a small bag. "State of the art security tapes. Turns out the managers' brother-in-law is a big shot at a security firm. In return for the newest gadgets he lets his in-law use the hotel as a try out area for new security-hardware."
"And he had no problem giving these up?" Sarah asked, taking the tapes from Novak.
"Ah well, it took him a phone call to his in-law but they decided that it was more profitable to give them. I guess they hope we will be so impressed that the city will become a client."
"They think that or you suggested it?" Russell said amused but the detective merely shrugged. "Sarah, get those to the lab and start working on it. I'll help Nick finish up here."
"Why me?"
"Because Ecklie can still come back and if you want any hope of your holiday going through you better stay out of his way right now."
Greg and detective Moreno pulled up in front of Scheltz's one storey high house. Everything seemed absolutely calm.
"You think he has anything to do with it?" Moreno asked Greg as they observed the house from the car.
"I don't know. He looks nice enough but… so did a lot of cold blooded killers I've met before and he was definitely hiding something. He knows something, Carlos. You should've seen his reaction on that photo. It was like her very image was hurtful to him. I don't think he knows about the child though."
"Didn't Russell say it was probably her niece's?"
"Yeah well" Greg responded irritated "I'm not convinced."
They got out of the car and walked up the driveway. Everything was dark and quiet, nothing moved. Greg rang the bell twice but got no response. He got slightly worried; what if Scheltz was really the murderer? Had Greg tipped him of by showing him that photo? Moreno pulled his gun and walked away to the side of the house. Greg did the same towards the other side. Both men were completely focused and checked everything: every window, every flowerbed and plant. Nothing looked disturbed when they met up in the garden.
"Maybe he's gone out to get groceries?" Moreno suggested.
Greg shook his head. "Something is off. The house is completely closed up. Every window I saw was closed, the doors are bolted. It's like he didn't expect to come back."
Greg looked around the modest and neat garden before continuing.
"He said something, when we met him. After I showed him the picture and Sarah had said Linton was dead he said: "So the end will come." I hope he hasn't gone to meet his end."
"HEY! What the hell are you two doing there?!"
Both men jumped. From the other side of the fence an older man was looking at them, a cane raised in his hand as if he was going to hit them with it.
"This is Scheltz' property, you know. You two are trespassing."
"Relax, old man. We're with the LVPD." Moreno said, showing the man his badge.
"Oh, I'm sorry." The man looked rather sheepish now. "I thought you might be intruders. Nowadays…"
"Don't worry, it's nice to see citizens looking after eachother." Moreno said smiling.
"Now that you are here, maybe you can help us with something." Greg said, still a bit shaken. "Have you seen where mr. Scheltz went?"
"Oh djeezes, that one doesn't go away very often. Only leaves his house for groceries and doctor appointments. I don't think he has that many friends left. But this morning he left alright. Something fishy about it too."
"How come?"
"You see, Scheltz might be 93 but he still does his shopping by bike, or car if it's too far. He does everything himself. This morning however, he got picked up by a car."
"Do you remember what kind?" Moreno sounded interested.
"Hmmm, black, standard car really. Could be a Mercedes. Strangest thing wasn't the car, actually."
"What was it, then?" Greg asked.
"It was the way Scheltz was dressed. You see, he never wears anything else than T-shirts and comfortable pants. He says he has reached an age where he doesn't have to dress up. This morning he was wearing a suit, a black suit with white shirt and a black tie. Frankly, he looked like an over aged body builder. Hell, he was even wearing sunglasses."
Moreno and Greg thanked the neighbor and went back to the car. It wasn't after they got it that they talked to each other again.
"What do you think?" Moreno said.
Greg looked puzzled. "A young woman who looks like the Rose walks through Vegas and all of a sudden people connected to her start dying. Everyone involved has some kind of motive to pull the trigger. And now, Scheltz is gone too, left his house dressed in his old work suit. Did he go with the murderer? Or is he the murderer, out to get his final victim?"
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