23th Marts 2015
Monday
Los Angeles
What forms beyond clouds? Part 1
…
Andy Flynn enjoyed getting into work at an early hour. Especially on Mondays. The early hours of the morning were ideal for checking up on old cases from previous years. One among those was Alice, the girl without any identity, even after all this time. Then there were other old unresolved cases that nagged in the back of his mind, like Bill Croelick and now Philip Stroh. The backload from the weekend was usually in the system by Monday, so it all fell into rhythm.
The squad room of the Major Crimes division was empty and silent as Andy worked. Dawn broke with rosy hues through the window panes of the building. The rest of the team would soon trickle in, one by one, so for now Andy enjoyed the quiet surroundings.
The murder board was up and the sparse information available on it testament to how little Sunday had revealed. Half the board was preserved for the open case from Robbery/Homicide. Sergeant Renner had yet to compile all his notes and reports together so that board was void of information so far. The other half of the board saw the autopsy pictures of the two unknown men from Saturday, their features somewhat preserved in death despite bloating and decay. Sometimes it could take months for an ID to come through, and other times, as in the Alice case, an ID was never found.
Sergeant Renner and the Robbery/Homicide division had reached a stalemate with the open case from December, and while the Sergeant might feel some residual annoyance with Major Crimes taking over his case, Robbery/Homicide had other more pressing matters to investigate. Still the idiot was taking his sweet time passing on the December case.
Andy was scrolling through the updated system on his computer. There were a lot of incidence reports and petty crimes to scroll through, but between those clusters there was a couple of missing person reports which is what he sought after.
Next to his keyboard sat a mug containing strong coffee, it had the logo of LAPD in blue lettering on its front. It was an old ceramic relic from the nineties, a cheap thing he had bought some odd twenty years ago, but it had followed Andy through his long career in Robbery/Homicide. The aroma of the coffee was intense and settled warmly in his stomach when he took a sip. Next to the coffee mug were Andy's breakfast; a carton of yogurt and a spoon from home.
In the middle of a spoonful, Andy heard the click-clacking of shoes against the floor. When Andy turned his head, Doctor Morales came waltzing into the murder room. He wore an excited expression and it only increased when the doctor spotted Andy.
"Oh thank heavens, someone's here!" Morales's voice rang out.
Andy swiveled around on his chair and regarded the cheerful doctor with a raised eyebrow, the spoon still in his mouth.
"I was afraid no one would be here to share in the happy, happy news."
Andy quickly swallowed the yogurt in his mouth and then croaked out, "Yeah? What news?"
Morales stopped next to Andy's desk, a folder in one hand and the other rested on his hip.
"I just got back confirmation from a forensic odontologist," Morales said as he waved the folder enthusiastically and continued in a giddy voice, "And guess what?"
Andy shrugged, "You've ID'ed our victims?"
"Bingo! Well, I've ID'ed one of them. Our second John Doe's dentals were in the records and we have a clear match."
"Really?" Andy sat up straighter, "Damn, that's a blessing."
The doctor nodded and then gave the folder to Andy with a flourish, "Here you go, one Martin Brooks."
Andy opened the folder and looked at x-rays of two dental pairs which apparently were a match. The name of Martin Brooks was at the top, and behind the x-ray was a piece of paper with information detailing the match in a lingo Andy was never going to understand. He understood canines and molars, but that was about it.
"I am still on the lookout for the identity of our first John Doe," Morales commented, "perhaps he will be an acquaintance of Martin Brooks, or maybe the dental or DNA will come through on him."
Andy looked up, "Thanks doc, this is gonna move our investigation along nicely."
The doctor did a weird little bow, "You're welcome and a good day to you," and then the other man waved as he strode back into the hallway.
Andy shook his head with a smile at the departure.
He took an extra look at the folder and the little information it held about Martin Brooks. Tapping into the search systems on his computer and the different police databases, it soon revealed that a Martin Brooks with the same address as stated on the dental records, was an attorney at law with 'Garbles, Brooks and Hems'. The man was reported missing yesterday evening by his wife. They had no children and two vehicles registered; a jaguar and a BMW. The home address was one of the nicer places out in the suburbs. Martin Brooks was in his late forties, blond-haired and tan. Andy supposed the fella would be considered more than handsome by most women, personally Andy felt the man looked too coifed.
Andy printed a picture out of Martin Brooks' driver's license and then went to scribble the name on the murder board. Next to the autopsy picture, he hung the DMV photo of the man.
Andy was studying the murder board with his arms crossed and leaning against Provenza's desk when he heard the ding of the elevator out in the hallway. It was accompanied by the tell-tale sound of the Captain's gait. A quick look at his watch revealed it was just about the usual time for her to come into work. The sound of her heels, more than familiar by now, ignited a warm fuzzy feeling in his body and he could not help but feel a rising excitement as her steps neared the squad room.
"Good morning, Andy," Sharon greeted him when she strode in and noticed him by Provenza's desk. She was carrying a Styrofoam cup of coffee in one hand and her briefcase and trench coat under the other arm.
Andy smiled happily, "Morning Sharon."
Despite what little sleep she had managed to get, his Captain looked impeccable. This morning had her in a nondescript black skirt and a white silk blouse tugged in at the waist of the skirt. She gave him a shrug and a smile before she moved in the direction of her office. When she passed him by, Andy noticed the slit in the back of the skirt. It afforded him a small, brief glimpse of the back of her thighs near the knees.
Sharon settled her things in her office and opened her laptop to turn it on. Andy tried his best not to stare at her, but failed. So instead he made his way back to his own desk, and, once there, he drowned the rest of the now lukewarm coffee in his mug, and sat down in his chair.
After a couple of minutes Sharon came out of her office and stood next to him, her coffee cup in one hand. Her eyes were trained on the computer screen with a scrutinizing look, the photo of Martin Brooks staring back at her.
"You're here early," she commented with a sideways glance, "again."
Andy shrugged, she knew he woke up like clockwork at 5 am and was therefore always one of the first to arrive at work.
"Who's this?" she pointed her chin at Martin Brooks, "Someone related to our case?"
"Doctor Morales found John Doe Two's identity through dental records. You just missed him, the dear doctor."
Sharon beamed, "That's a relief! Maybe we can finally get a move on the case, and before Chief Taylor wants us to put it on the back burner, hmm."
Andy agreed with a nod.
"Yeah, so our second John Doe is Martin Brooks. Senior lawyer with 'Garbles, Brooks and Hems'."
Sharon's lips pursed and her eyes narrowed, "I haven't heard of that firm before, have you?"
Andy shook his head, "Nah, it's a little exclusive firm downtown. Brooks is married, and the wife reported him missing yesterday. Brooks was off to a corporate seminar giving lectures last week. According to his wife, Brooks was supposed to be home Friday evening. He didn't show up, so the wife waited a couple of days and then reported him missing yesterday."
Sharon hummed and then without looking at anything, she thought out aloud, "So we need to interview the wife and give a notification at some point. We also need to interview his colleagues and get a warrant to search though his clientele list. And did Mike say anything about Brooks' phone? Perhaps he has another phone, besides the burner we found at the crime scene? Or a laptop?"
"I think the burner phone was too damaged for Mike to extract anything from it."
Sharon hummed again and then looked down at him with a soft smile, "Did you get any sleep at all last night?"
Andy grinned, took the empty mug and raised it, "A couple of hours – which is why I need more caffeine."
They had worked late yesterday, using overtime that Taylor would no doubt begrudge even if it was the beginning of a new case that was sure to get a lot of media attention. By the time they had all clocked out, everyone had been either excessively yawning or rapidly blinking.
Sharon tilted her head and then raised her own cup of coffee, "Rusty drank the rest of our coffee at home, so I had to get up without any caffeine at all. I stopped by that little Italian café you showed me last June on the way here. Do you think he felt bad about claiming the last coffee in any way? Oh no! He said, he 'needed' it more than me."
Andy laughed, "Kids, huh? He got the big test today, right?"
She hummed, "He slept less than me, I'm afraid."
Andy yawned but covered it with a hand, and then he said, "Well, I'm going to get started on the warrant for Brooks' clients then."
Sharon smiled at him, her hand touching his shoulder. It was an absent little touch, akin to an afterthought, her thumb slowly drawing circles.
"Maybe finish your breakfast first, hmm?" she said in a light tone with a look at his half eaten carton of yogurt.
Andy smiled sheepishly, "Yes, Ma'am."
She rolled her eyes at that and then went to the murder board.
Andy followed her, the carton of yogurt in one hand and the spoon in the other.
"So," he started, taking a spoonful and eating it, his eyes on her in profile and he noticed a pensive expression.
Sharon gave him a curious look, "So?" she repeated back in a question, taking a sip of her coffee cup.
Andy swallowed the yogurt and then pointed at the board with the spoon, "You reckon there's a connection between Brooks and the other victim?"
She hummed affirmatively, "It seems more than likely, doesn't it? Considering the case from December, I would say it's more than a coincidence. I need to have a talk with Doctor Morales. If this is the starting work of a serial killer – which seems highly likely by now – then I would like to know if we can find a body with a guilty one tattoo."
Sharon looked sideways at him, eyes sharp, "Also, we need to dig deeper with the double homicide in December. Robbery/Homicide might have reached a stalemate, but we have more resources at hand now."
Andy nodded, "Yeah, Renner still hasn't collected together all the files. I will go down and tell him to hurry up. I mean, the idiot's holding back the investigation!"
Sharon gave him a pointed look, "Or perhaps he is being considerate and making sure everything is collected to our satisfaction."
Andy huffed, "I doubt it. No one likes their case being handed over to someone else."
"You are only allowed to go down to Robbery/Homicide if you can be polite about it," Sharon told him with a smile on her lips.
"I can be polite alright," Andy grinned, "for you, I'll be extra polite."
Sharon shook her head, amused.
Andy went back to the case, seriousness to his tone, "You know, there is the possibility that a hypothetical first victim won't have the same distinct tattoo as the others. We might never find a first victim. Or maybe the roman numerals mean something else to the killer, maybe they are not a means of keeping tally."
"I know but it is a distinct and specific thing to tattoo on a victim. Guilty. And a number. Have you ever come across something reminiscent of this?"
Andy thought back, "It is very specific, but we've had a couple of creeps like this over the years. Some of them brand obscure terms or phrases on their victims and others keep tally. I've seen a number of lacerations or markings with allusions to religious lore. Back in the nineties there was the Repenter. He wrote 'sinner' with black magic marker on his victims."
Andy looked to the murder board and the four victims, "However, it's more permanent with a tattoo than a marker. It's also different from a laceration made with a knife. Perhaps the killer perceives the victims as guilty of something and the tattoo is a sentencing of sorts before killing them? That would be my guess."
Sharon hummed in agreement.
After a beat of silence, she wondered out aloud, "Or maybe the tattoos are unrelated to the killer; perhaps our victims all knew each other and had the tattoos together? As a part of some comradery? Or secret club?"
Andy hummed, two fingers against his chin, "Maybe. Didn't Morales say something about the tattoos being recent on our two victims from Saturday? I would wager it is the work of our killer and it is a sentencing and a tally."
Sharon nodded slowly, her eyes on him and one finger thoughtfully tapping her coffee cup.
"Perhaps we need to ask a tattoo expert on the design, though I don't want the discovery of the tattoos revealed to the public yet," she said.
Andy nodded.
"Also, is there significance to the tattoo being placed on the left wrist?" she wondered out loud.
"I have no idea. It probably has some significance to the killer but heck, that's gotta be some form of private logic."
Sharon nodded.
"We can ask around, discreetly, regarding the tattoo and the design," Andy told her and then took another spoonful of yogurt.
Sharon hummed in agreement and then as she turned, she squeezed his arm before she moved back to her office. The soft touch lingered on Andy's arm and once again he had to restrain himself from staring at her backside. He turned his attention on the murder board instead of Sharon Raydor walking back into her office.
About five minutes later, Sanchez arrived at the office. The younger man came in from the hallway with a quick stride and an expression that seemed less than patient to Andy. The younger man was finding it hard to be living with his mother again, and who could really fault him for that? Andy informed Julio of the morning's fresh findings Morales had provided.
Mike came in with his usual selection of Monday donuts in a large colorful box. The golden lettering on the side let everyone know it was one of the exclusive and expensive bakeries he had visited. The man threw a cheerful wave around the room, then happily settling in at his desk and opening up the box with the donuts.
Andy could only roll his eyes and pointed accusatorily at the box, "Divinity's Bakery! Really Mike?" Andy was sure the pastries could have paid for a small car.
Mike smiled obnoxiously wide in response, "I've bought a special croissant for you, Andy; dark chocolate filling."
Andy looked in the box, curious. And sure enough, there was a lonely croissant among the many donuts.
When Buzz strolled in, Andy was already halfway through his croissant and on his second mug of coffee.
Buzz walked past yawning and muttering about parking under his breath before he disappeared into electronics without as much as a glance at the donuts.
Mike was on his second donut when Amy strode in with a bounce. There was a secretive smile in her eyes that Andy was sure had more to do with Lieutenant Cooper than she would care to admit. She looked happy and well rested.
The last person to arrive was, without any surprise, Provenza. The older man walked into the room with a slow pace, a large Styrofoam coffee cup and an expression that seemed to convey he had gotten little to no sleep or was feeling extraneously grumpy about the world in general.
Great… Provenza and lack of sleep was a recipe for disaster if there ever was one.
"Who messed up my desk?" was the first accusatory thing out of Provenza's mouth.
Andy rolled his eyes but then hurriedly turned his back to the group. If Provenza established eye contact with Andy, the old man would no doubt blame Andy for the disorder.
"Good grief, Sykes, you're getting sugar crumbs on my desk!" Provenza accused Amy next.
Andy was sure he heard a couple of badly concealed sniggers from Julio.
"Do you want a donut, sir?" Amy played back in a decidedly sweet tone, not the least bit moved by Provenza and his sour mood. They were all used to it by now.
Provenza mumbled something incomprehensible, Andy was sure he heard a curse or two amongst the low-voiced words. He turned around on his chair and then addressed Amy with a grin, "Don't worry, I'm sure the old grumpy will feel better when he's had his late morning nap."
"Oh shut up Flynn, go back to your flipping hippie yogurt," Provenza growled at him.
Then the older man took a donut out of Mike's box, sat down, crossed his arms and glared around in challenge, waiting to see if anyone challenged him on this. It was then he saw the updated murder board.
"What the hell?" Provenza grumbled and then he scowled at everyone, "someone found the identity of one of our victims? And nobody told me?"
…
