Faithful friends, I am sorry this took so long, but so much beyond my control conspired against me. Hopefully, this will be a one time problem.
Morristown
Chapter 6
(Warning: Explicit Language)
Three in the morning and the halls still echoed with the sounds of heavy footsteps playing counterpoint to the storm that buffeted the building. A forensics team had finally arrived to examine the crime scene. The medical examiner came next and declared Ashley Rush officially dead. Exsanguination: caused by rapid blood lose due to the severing of both her jugular vein and her carotid artery was the preliminary finding. The type of weapon to produce this near decapitation was unknown. The jagged wound was so deep the vertebra in her neck was visible to the naked eye; that is to anyone around who could actually see. The next step would be worse. Rush's body would have to be chipped from its icy prison and thawed out before an autopsy could be preformed.
Jim sat in by the door of the dining room, nursing another cup of rapidly cooling coffee. It seemed like years since he'd pulled an all nighter, yet he fell into the rhythm with the ease of long practice. He heard the rattle of the gurney as the body was taken away and the bad jokes of the forensics team as they bitched and moaned about digging through the snow for clues. The scrape of a chair at his table that told him he was no longer alone.
"Detective Dunbar," the voice of Officer Berger was not the one he expected. "You should be in bed."
"Sorry, sweetheart, not 'til the job is done," Jim smirked as he pushed the cold coffee away.
"It's not your job," she shot back and then sighed. "You know, for a condescending son of a bitch, at least you know what you're supposed to do. The state bozos are as useless as tits on a bull."
Jim chuckled and shook his head, "Spoken like a true farmer's daughter. Well, Officer Millie, what is wrong with what the State Law Enforcement Officers are doing?"
"The idiots just arrested Seth O'Brien for the murder of Ashley Rush and their damn forensics team hasn't even started to work the scene." Berger watched closely as the expression on the face of the New Yorker hardened. "I heard what you told Ms. Authier in the hall. I've known Seth since he was the kid who rescued kittens from trees. He doesn't have it in him to swat a bug but he's the local loony and an easy bust."
"So I'm supposed to… what? Pull out my trusty Braille Junior G-Man kit and solve the crime? I'm not even in my jurisdiction and even if I was I am at a slight disadvantage."
The woman blew a raspberry and stood up. "I called a friend of a friend to find out about you, Dunbar, and everyone said you had the biggest brassiest balls in the NYPD. Did they get shot off too?"
Jim clutched his coffee cup and slammed it down, breaking off the handle and spilling the coffee across the table top. "Listen, Berger, crimes don't get solved by waving a magic, fucking wand. I'm good but I need a partner I can depend on and I haven't had one of those for a long time. There are a few things I can't… I can't fucking do anymore and a partner would be a big help."
"Use me."
Jim settled back into his chair, "How often do I have to point out the obvious, I am a suspect and this is not my jurisdiction."
"But it is mine." The woman sat down again. "I don't want to see an innocent loony get railroaded by lazy cops who don't give a damn about Morristown or anything except getting their solve rate up. You can be my consultant and maybe you can prove to the higher ups back in the big, bad apple you still got those brass balls."
"I still got'em Berger, I'll help you… if you do whatever I say and soon you'll hear them clanking together."
"Call me Millie and I'll get you a fresh cuppa coffee."
"You just said the magic words, Millie. Get yourself a pen and paper out too."
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Jim could hear the exasperated voice of Berger's supervisor even though the phone was against Millie's ear. "What the hell were you doing sending Standish back on the road?"
"Come on Boss, I got seniority over Standish and I'd rather stand guard in a nice warm building than directing traffic in a blizzard." The officer looked at Jim and grinned at his smirk. "Besides, I can't let the Jersey jerks run away with this. They actually think Seth O'Brien killed her."
"You gotta be kidding, he's nuts but he ain't dangerous."
"Yeah, Boss, I know, Boss. Right now I gotta ask you for a copy of the record of every call in or out of this place since…." Officer Berger put her hand over the receiver, turned to Dunbar and whispered, "why, Detective." Jim mouthed the words that she repeated. "I don't trust the troopers, do you? Yeah, I know inter department co operation is the latest craze. Sorry Boss, it's just these State Troopers think the sun shines out their asses. Yes, Boss. Yes, Boss. Fax it to 555-8362 and I'll keep it for our files. Yeah, cause I know O'Brien's family is gonna hit us with a wrongful arrest suit. Let's cover our asses, Boss." Millie sighed as snapped her phone shut.
"Okay, now that I'm knee deep in shit, what next."
"Now," Jim answered, "you get me into Ashley's room."
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Berger filled a carafe with strong, black coffee, grabbed some mugs and headed to the rec room occupied by Kovacs and Carson. "Fresh coffee," she sang out loud enough to get everyone's attention. "Did I bring enough mugs?"
Jim heard Berger slam the door and then turned round and headed to the dormitory wing. With Hank at his side Jim's steps were sure and swift. He trailed his hand along the wall, checking each door frame and until he found the crime scene tape. This had to be Ashley Rush's room, a room that was basically the same layout as his. The crime scene unit had already been here, and would not be tidy. Jim knew there would be finger print powder on most of the surfaces; every drawer was opened and emptied on the bed. This would be an obstacle course but Jim squared his shoulders, gripped the harness tight and commanded, "Hank, forward." Jim bent under the tape and followed Hank as the dog snaked around the cluttered floor and lead him to the bed. Jim whispered 'good boy' and dropped the harness. Carefully he checked the bed, finding only clothes and an empty suitcase. The dresser was next and the drawers were all open and empty as he expected. Next was the bathroom door, but Jim decided to skip the bathroom because it was so full of smooth, flat surfaces it would probably coated in finger print powder and he didn't want that all over him. Instead he headed to the desk. Skimming his fingers over the top a large, empty area suggested something was removed, probably a laptop computer. A fancy, electric Braille writer under a vinyl cover was pushed back against the wall and a combination CD/tape player sat beside it. Any personal papers or notes would have been taken by the CSU team, but he decided to check the desk drawers anyway. The top and bottom ones were empty, but the middle drawer had a series of small boxes in them. Picking one up he ran his fingers over the outside; there was a Braille label on it. Dunbar was not that good a Braille reader, but he puffed out an exasperated breathe, sat in the desk chair and began.
"Two, three, four and six in one cell makes "the", well that was simple, wasn't it Hank?"
Hank pricked up his ears and moved to Jim's side. Dunbar felt the reassuring weight of the dog against his leg and reached down to scratch behind Hank's ear.
"Thanks for the moral support, kid. Next is B O U R N E, Bourne; I think this is a book on tape." With that Jim opened the box and removed two cassettes. "I bet she bought these cheap because they're cassettes. Ms. Rush was a cheap as she was… oops, sorry Hank, never speak ill of dead bimbos."
It was time consuming, but Jim eventually found The Bourne Identity, The Hunt for Red October, The General's Daughter and Love's Dark Ride in Rush's private tape library.
Jim shook his head, "Hank, Ashley liked testosterone any way she could get it, didn't she? The only thing I can't find is a bottle of Jack Daniel's and cigars, but then maybe CSU took them too. One of these doesn't fit, though, does it? Hank, how would you like to listen to Love's Dark Ride? Maybe we can learn to rip some bodices if we check it out."
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Quickly getting back to in his room Jim stretched out on his bed. The buzz of his cell phone roused him and Jim scrubbed his hand over his face as he flipped open his phone. "Yeah," Jim yawned.
"Boss," the voice of Millie Berger roused him, "I have been asked by the detectives if I can remain longer… I think it's just to make coffee but I said if the Troopers paid for my hours I'd stay."
"You are a genius," Jim whispered as he rolled his eyes, "see if they'll go for overtime and then get to my room, number four in the dormitory wing. I found some cassettes I think we should listen to ASAP."
He could hear Berger's voice muffled as if her hand was over the receiver. "You pay and I stay… sound good?" The mumble in the background was followed with a quick reply, "they'll cover me Boss. I'll get back to you when I leave here." She snapped the phone shut.
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"Wake up, Dunbar."
"I'm not sleeping, I'm investigating…" Jim stopped as he sat up. Once he would have quipped he was investigating the inside of his eyelids, but that wasn't true anymore, "my options."
"Well, option this." Berger dropped something in his lap. Quickly running his fingers over it Jim realized it was a tape recorder. "I was supposed to put it back in the squad car but I thought you might want to listen to the initial interrogations Standish and I did."
"Great," Jim's hand skimmed the over the top of the bed to find the audio book retrieved from Ashley's desk. "I want to listen to this first."
"Love's Dark Ride… you desperate or something?"
"Yeah, I'm 'or something'." Jim growled as he opened the box and removed the cassette. "This was left by CSU, I guess it wasn't worthy of their attention, but I think it might be interesting."
Jim could hear Berger snort as he inserted the tape in the player and fiddled with the buttons until it began to play.
"The pickings are slim here, Maggie," the voice of Ashley Rush filled the room. "Men outnumber women two to one, but most of them are old or as bland as white bread and mayonnaise. There are two boys that might be fun to play with and a genuine hero cop that I am sure I can interest in a strip search. So the official fuck-a-thon is on, the one who gets it in the most interesting spot wins."
"What a bitch," Millie whispered as she listened to Ashley Rush list her successes and her failures at rape. Berger called it rape because she sure wasn't going to call it love. After the lurid description of the office encounter she looked at Dunbar's face. It was as the man was carved out of marble; stiff, white and cold. "We have to turn this over to the detectives."
"You have to take it over; I'm still a suspect… even more of a suspect than I was before. They get it only after we've finished with it," was all Dunbar said.
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Callum Mitchell, barely nineteen but trying to act as he imagined an adult would, sat in the library. Duchess, his golden lab, had her head on his lap because she knew her partner needed her. Jeremy Butler, the only guy his age here, wouldn't stop talking. He went on and on about Ashley. How she had taken him into the kitchen late one night and… how could she… she loved him and she had taken his best friend and…
"Jeremy," Jim Dunbar's voice broke through, "what's happening? I could hear you all the way out in the hallway."
"What do you think? He trying to make me feel better." Callum scrubbed his hand over his face, encountering the tears he'd shed. "Yeah, I guess this isn't very adult. I just never knew anyone who ever got murdered before."
Jim knew it was more than that; he knew Callum was one of the notches on Rush's bedpost.
"Do you want to talk about it? I know something about how murder affects people."
"Nyah, I'll talk to Mr. Coleman in the morning. I just hope I can fall asleep."
Jim stood up and waited for Callum to join him. "I think its time we all went to sleep."
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Morning dawned cold and still. The blizzard had stopped but a thick layer of ice and snow covered Morristown like a straight jacket. Downed power lines shut down most of the town, but the campus of Seeing Eye had its own set of generators therefore here the lights still shone.
"Jim."
"Sam," Jim and Hank stopped and waited for the councillor to catch up with them, "enough excitement for you?"
"Just shoot me now and put me out of my misery, those troopers have been on my butt since I got here. I've just escaped for breakfast." Coleman checked out the partners and saw Jim in his coat and Hank in the guiding harness. "Are you practicing today?"
Jim grimaced, "just going for a walk, we need the exercise."
"Stick to the paths around the buildings, okay." Coleman huffed out a breath. "What would the police be looking for all this time?"
"Could be anything, they won't know until they find it." A smirk creased Jim's face, "let's hope it's more than left over dog crap."
"I guess I watch too much TV. I want smoking guns or bloody fingerprints."
"And I want it to be Miss Scarlet in the library with a candlestick. Let them do their jobs, Sam and they'll let you do yours."
Jim and Hank went out the front door and started to circle the building. It was U shaped and had at least six exit doors that Jim knew about and that didn't include the kitchen or freight entries. It was time he checked every one.
"Okay, Hank, let's get started. Left left." Together they moved with sure steps, but then it was easy here on the campus. "Find the door, Hank." Jim's knew he could trust his partner to take him to the next door.
Hank quickly got Dunbar to the next door. Jim dropped the harness and, hands extended, went to examine the entryway. The door itself opened out and the knob side of the door frame was clear and open. On the hinge side, however, was a small rack. A stiff broom, a snow shovel and a rake hung over a wooden crate that held a bag of rock salt and another of sand. This same arrangement was at the next three doors Jim and Hank encountered.
"Mr. Dunbar," the voice of the custodian, Jack Hughes, cut through the cold air, "what'cha doing out here?"
Jim stopped and gave the man his full attention and a smile like a kid caught in the cookie jar. "Escaping… trying to find the nearest bar and if not that a coffee shop."
"I don't blame ya; this place feels like we got drunk chaperones at the prom. They know what they gotta do but they don't seem able to do it." Hughes banged and stomped as he talked to Jim. "I got my winter supplies by every door and those bozos took the shovel by the back door. Not only that, I swear every damn doorway has been fooled around with. I gotta system with a place for everything and all and now half the damn shovels are frozen tight cause someone threw them in the yard. Then some jackass leaves a shovel in the middle of a damn snow bank just waiting for one of youse guys to trip over and break your necks. I blame those damn CSU guys. That O'Brien kid didn't use it to bust the lock on the kennel but they still gotta put that dirty fingerprint stuff all over everything. They want his fingerprints offa stuff and anyone who didn't wear gloves last would've left frozen fingers. Damn, my damn fingerprints are gonna be on it more'n that
kid's."
"Don't sweat it, Jack. Police work is 90 hurry up and wait so those guys are just doing their job."
"I gotta job too."
Jim heard the clunk of a shovel hitting the sidewalk. "Is that one of the shovels you found in the snow bank?"
"Yeah, I gotta get them all cleaned up now."
"No, you take them to the CSU team and tell them Detective Dunbar thinks they're looking at the murder weapon, if they can figure which one it is."
TBC