KNOW THINE ENEMY

Chapter 4

It took Horatio a few seconds to gather his thoughts. "You think it's connected?"

"Don't you? Deliberate hit-and-runs are relatively rare. A judge and a senior cop…?"

"What stage is it at? Has the night shift taken it?"

Frank chuckled. "No. Body wasn't found till this morning. It's all yours. ME's bringing the body in now. Crime scene's contained and secure." He passed on a few more details.

Horatio rang off and immediately summoned Eric. "Grab your kit. We've got a shout."

"You can't go."

"It's not up for debate. I'll see you downstairs."

In the Hummer, he told Eric what he knew. "There's a chance it's not connected."

"You don't believe that."

"I don't. I suspect this is going to come down to a case where he was judge and I was the lead CSI."

"If you're right, he could be going after others. Attorneys. Even the jury."

"I know. I'm trying not to think about it. We need to solve this quickly."

"There'll be more trace. Damage to the vehicle," Eric said firmly.

"With luck. The only odd thing is that Judge Westbrook's been retired for over three years, which would mean it's an old case. So why now?"

"Someone just released?"

"But we looked at those yesterday. No, forget the whys and possible connections for now. Let's just process this one."

The scene was a track, near the judge's secluded house. Although the body had been removed, a large smudge of blood was a clear marker. Distinct tire tracks… Eric followed them, careful not to step on anything that could be evidence.

"He turned round up here," he announced. "Went out the way he came in."

"Ran over him twice?"

"Likely." He glanced at his boss. "You can't bend down, can you?"

"Nope. You'll have to do the work. I'll do the thinking."

Eric grinned, and muttered, "Nothing new there then."

"What's that?" Horatio indicated a mound, at the side of the track, covered with a piece of black polythene.

Eric lifted it cautiously. "Dog. Black labrador. I guess the judge was walking it. Probably his set routine."

"I suppose it might be evidence. We should take it in. I wish the ME had taken it." Horatio felt unaccountably sad, and gave himself a mental shake. "Right… Well, he definitely damaged his vehicle. Look…"

For the next hour, they carefully collected fragments, the largest of which was a piece of grille – black; the smallest, shards of glass. Eric cast the tire treads. At last he straightened up.

"Do we need to go to the house?" he asked.

"Not at the moment. The house is sealed off, if we need it later. The judge lived alone."

"Except for his dog."

"Except for his dog…"

They loaded the bagged items into the Hummer. Eric extracted a giant evidence bag, and carefully eased the stiffening body of the dog into it. He put it in the back of the car.

They drove back in silence. Horatio reached into his pocket for the pill bottle and shook out two tablets. Eric felt around in the door pocket and passed him a bottle of water.

"Sore?"

"Aching all over. It's the longest I've spent standing up."

His colleague said nothing, and Horatio smiled to himself – the fruitless arguments had obviously stopped.

As they reached the lab, he said, "We'll take the dog to the morgue first."

Tom Loman was apologetic. "Sorry, Horatio – I thought as I was driving back – I should have brought the dog."

"No worries, Tom. But it might have evidence on it… So yes, in future…"

"Do you want me to… ah… process it?"

"She. It's a bitch." Horatio smiled. "No, just keep the body in case we need to look at her. What about the judge?"

"Severe trauma. Open leg fractures. Obvious crush injuries. Consistent with being run over – twice at least. I've sent his clothes up to trace. I'll let you have my full report later." He hesitated. "It's a small mercy, but I think he died quickly."

"It's no way to go though, is it? Retired, walking your dog…" He turned to leave, leaning on his cane.

"I hear it nearly happened to you."

"It did. But I got out of the way. Almost."

"Nothing broken?"

"No, heavy bruising. It's getting better." He left before he was given more unwanted medical advice.

He went to join Eric in the layout room. "What have you got?"

"So far, what you'd expect. The grille is definitely from a GMC. It's got blood on it – I've just sent samples to DNA, though I guess we know what the result will be."

"The glass?"

"Just looking at that. A headlight and an indicator, I think. I'll piece them together – see if we can get serial numbers…"

"Okay. Keep me posted."

"I was thinking… This may buy us a bit of time…"

"How so?"

"Well, someone's not going to drive around in a car with severe front-end damage. And, unless they're stupid, they won't take it anywhere obvious for repair."

"They might do the repair themselves. Grille, replacement lights…"

"Even so… Got to buy parts. And it takes time. All I'm saying – it may be a while before they can go after someone else."

"I take your point. They might just acquire another vehicle though. Or stick to after-dark. Keep going, Eric. I'm going to try to match up my and Judge Westbrook's cases."

He went back to his office, put the coffee machine on, and sat down to think. He imagined the perpetrator wouldn't be careless enough to get the vehicle repaired, but it didn't hurt to cover the possibility. He called Frank and asked him to trawl the main car dealers and repair shops; he was aware, however, that any search was bound to miss many small back street outfits.

With a sigh, he switched the computer on, and began work. Instinct told him he needed to go back a long way, not stick to 'recent'. He acquired Judge Westbrook's lists, from five years before his retirement, up until the date he actually gave up work. The judge had been a busy man. It was a horrendously long list.

One thing in Horatio's favor was his memory for names. Reading carefully through the lists, he found he could remember many cases that he'd been involved in. And many he knew he hadn't been. He marked the certainties, and put a query beside others that rang no bells. He accepted it was risky to work from memory – he could just miss the vital one - but it seemed a valid tactic for a first pass. It was still going to be a very long job.

He started on the 'definites', pulling up more detailed records, making notes about verdicts, sentences, and about the guilty parties themselves, where he recalled them. He noted the names of the attorneys on the cases, but he noticed, with some disappointment, that there were no jury records. Well, they must be somewhere – it was something he'd never had to access. He worked steadily, but was still less than halfway through when Eric came to his office.

He gratefully pushed the papers aside, and rubbed tired eyes. "How're you doing?"

"Not bad. We've got most of the headlight and indicator lens. Definitely a GMC."

"Anything that gives the exact vehicle?"

"No, unfortunately, although it does narrow down its age – between 2003 and 2008. I've told Frank. The interesting thing is that the headlight has been replaced before – the part number says it's younger than the car."

"How young?"

"Since 2011."

"As you say… interesting," Horatio said thoughtfully. "What else?"

"The blood is the judge's, as expected. And some canine. Trace are still working on the clothes. And Tom's still doing his report." He regarded his boss sympathetically. "You look worn out."

"It's a longer job than I thought… I'm looking at a five-year span…"

"How far have you got?"

"Not far. Maybe a third?"

"Let me take you home. It's gone four. And I bet you skipped lunch."

"I didn't know it was so late." He went to stand, winced sharply, and sat back down. "Yeah, my concentration's going…" He smiled. "And my back." He made it to his feet. "Let me clear up – I'll see you downstairs. We'll pick it up tomorrow."

TBC