Chapter 4
"Denison Industries makes electrical cables. They make all kinds, from the big gauge stuff the power companies use to the little wires, like the ones that hook guitars to amps."
Bobby's head tilted at the last tidbit, but he continued listening.
"They have about 600 employees, working 3 shifts. The place is always running."
"You'd need a good size canteen to feed that many employees. Sounds better than a school cafeteria job."
The phone rang. "Goren," he said. He listened, then he hung up. "Autopsies are done." Eames grabbed her stuff and followed him out of the office.
Dr. Rodgers stood over the body of Marina Ehrlanger and explained her findings, none of which were news to Goren and Eames.
All the way down, Goren'd had that 'look.' He suspected something, but didn't want to voice it yet. Now, he moved over the body, deliberately placing his gloved hands at his sides. He leaned down as if to kiss the corpse on the neck.
Alex just watched Bobby do his thing, like she had so many times before. As he sniffed the ligature marks on Marina's neck, Rodgers turned her head and rolled her eyes. None of the other detectives got so intimate with the bodies.
Bobby sniffed, moved away, then sniffed again. "Smells like rubber," he said.
Eames pursed her lips and raised her eyebrows, nodding. "Any sign she had a hot date before the murder?" she asked the Doctor.
"Unless you count Chicken Fingers and Tater Tots as a hot date."
Goren looked at Eames. "Sounds like cafeteria food."
She moved over to the table that held the boy's body, and rattled off her findings. "Skin in his fingernails, sent it to trace."
Bobby looked closely at his face. He had taken a beating before being submerged.
"Strangely enough, he didn't have the same dinner as Mom." Rodgers announced. Both detectives looked at her in anticipation. "He had a roast beef sandwich."
Charlie Fisher sat next to his mom in one of the "non-threatening" rooms at 1 PP. He was even more nervous than he had looked in the Principal's office, and Eames felt sorry for him. The Captain had wanted them to play hardball with him, but Eames insisted that he was a good kid, and Bobby trusted her instincts.
They were going to take the compassionate approach instead.
Bobby and Alex entered the room and introduced themselves, taking the time to shake hands with Charlie's mother.
"He's not a… suspect or anything, is she?" she asked.
"Oh, no," said Eames. "We just needed to talk to him again, get some facts straight." She sat down next to Bobby, who was already rooting through his open binder.
"You see, Charlie," Bobby began, "We got the autopsy report from the coroner's office, and something she said doesn't mesh with what you told my partner yesterday."
"I told you everything I could think of," Charlie said, a little defensively.
Eames smiled at him. "I know you did, Charlie. But Stan was your best friend. And sometimes friends… cover for each other."
All four pairs of eyes regarded each other in silence. "Well, what is it then?" demanded Mrs. Potts.
"Charlie, you told my partner… that Stan had to stay home with his Mom all night because they were…" his voice trailed off and he waited.
"Family time," said Charlie.
Bobby snapped his fingers and looked at Eames for verification. "Family time! That's it."
He reflected in silence a moment, then said, "When most people have family time, they…" he shrugged, "eat together… watch movies… play games…"
"Yeah, so?" asked Charlie, truly confused.
"Stan didn't eat the same dinner that his Mom did," whispered Goren, as if the only person in the room with him was Charlie.
Charlie's face reddened. "I took him to that fast-food joint and he got a roast beef sandwich." He looked to Eames for help. "I told you he was mad at his Mom. It was… just a little rebellion, that's all. She was late getting home anyway, and he said 'screw her,' and told me to take him somewhere."
Eames gave Goren an "I told you so" look.
They sat in silence once more. Finally, Mrs. Potts leaned forward. "Is that all?"
"Where do you think Ms. Ehrlanger was?" Bobby asked quietly.
"I don't know, just that she was late. She told Stan she'd be home when he got home from school, and she wasn't and… I took him out."
Bobby snapped his binder shut, a satisfied look on his face. "Fair enough," he said. He thanked them for coming in.
Denison Industries was not much to look at from outside. It looked like a cross between a warehouse and an office building. Eames followed Bobby up the walk and into the visitor's door.
They introduced themselves and were told to wait by the receptionist. As she went to speak with the manager, Eames sat in a chair. She took in everything with her eyes, while Bobby milled about in the room, looking at and touching nearly everything he saw.
"Good afternoon, Detectives," said John Marsh, the COO of Denison.
The shook his hand and followed him into his office. Again, Eames sat down, but Bobby remained standing. "Don't mind him," she said. "He's just a little hyper."
"I'm not sure how we can help you," stated Mr. Marsh.
"There was a young lady," Eames said, "A student at LaGuardia College. She was looking to get a job here."
"Doing what?"
"Cafeteria Manager," Bobby cut in, staring at the books on the man's shelf. "There was a picture, out in the lobby…" Bobby turned mid-sentence, appeared at a loss for words, and then left the room, surprising both Eames and the COO. He returned immediately, with the picture freshly plucked off the wall and in his hand. The receptionist followed behind him, looking quite unhappy.
"This picture… shows your Canteen staff. You contract that out to someone else?" Bobby asked.
"Yeah, we do, but we've been considering making it an in-house operation."
Bobby handed the picture back to the receptionist, who went to replace it on the wall. Eames sat up while Bobby fumbled with opening his binder. "Who do you contract for that service with now?" she asked.
"Masco Foods," he replied. Bobby took notes.
"And who is the manager here?"
"Marty Frakes." Bobby scribbled the name. "Been here several years, we've never had any issues."
"Then why the change? To in-house?" interjected Bobby.
"You know business. It's always about the bottom line. Our preliminary reports indicate that it will be more cost-effective to run the Canteen in-house."
"Could we have copies of those reports?"
He was surprised by the request, but gave it some quick thought. "I don't see why not."
Goren and Eames stood together while the receptionist copied the reports. They shook hands with Marsh and were escorted by an office worker to the Canteen.
The kitchen was buzzing with activity. The hum of the fans and the sounds of prep knives against cutting boards only served to ramp up Bobby's restless energy. He flitted around the kitchen, only just staying out of people's way.
"Can I help you?" Asked the manager.
"Mr. Frakes," Eames said, offering her hand. "I'm Detective Eames, this is Detective Goren," he swooped in to offer his handshake, "and we'd like to talk with you, if we may."