Departure

Act 4, Part 1: Mission Murder

An unpleasant discovery in a tough section of town.

In my lifetime, the Mission has been one of the toughest areas in town. It's got more than its share of clubs, bars, pool halls, and pawn shops and that, coupled with the bad economy, brings gambling, solicitation, robbery and sometimes murder. Unfortunately, many of the calls Steve and I take are over in this district and often those murders are the hardest to solve.

The majority of murder victims know their killer. Usually, it's a domestic issue or some sort of dispute. In an area that lends itself to vices, the crimes are transaction related: a john kills a prostitute; a gambler is killed and robbed of his winnings; or a drug deal goes bad. It's nearly random; twenty-four hours earlier and I'll take bets that very few of these people had even met their killers.

It was afternoon as Steve and I drove over to an alley behind the Lilac Hotel. The hotel was the residence of some of the less than stellar citizens of the area. I filled Steve in on the phone call as he drove. A man in his mid to late twenties was found stabbed to death in a dumpster behind the hotel. Beyond that, I didn't know much. Steve and I spoke very little about anything else.

I still regretted my conversation with Steve that morning after giving him Atwater's message. He also didn't deserve me getting on to him when he returned from the DA's office. He's a grown man but all too often, I treat him like the rookie he used to be. I would never talk to the other men the way that I do Steve. But in my defense, I also haven't taken the other men under my wing like I did Steve. Still, while I would never admit it out loud, I can be overbearing and that was getting on his nerves. I needed to say something.

"Why don't you pull over near the entrance to the alley?" Mike suggested.

"Sure," Steve replied as he dutifully aligned the car to the curb.

"Look, before we go see what's going on, Steve, I need to apologize. I've been out of line today."

Steve looked over and responded quietly. "No worries, Mike. I've been a little out of sorts myself. Probably should have taken an extra day off after the trip back."

"You've been fine. I just need to recognize that you are going to have opportunities presented to you that are beyond anything involving me."

Steve shook his head."I should be talking to you about things like this when they come up. I'm sorry that I didn't."

Mike immediately defended his partner. "Well, how could you? You were out of town for most of the time, and your mind was elsewhere."

"Then we're okay?" Steve smiled slightly as he asked hopefully.

"Of course." Mike responded. Steve wanted to say more, but knew they needed to refocus on the crime scene.

Mike and Steve walked the short way down the alley to meet the forensic investigator and two patrolmen. A coroner's wagon was also on the scene. They watched as a body was placed on the stretcher near a dumpster.

Patrolman Adams greeted the detectives. "Marty, what have you got?" Mike asked.

"One of the workers at the Lilac was dumping trash and found the body. Damn lucky that the trash truck didn't haul the corpse away. They got the body out the dumpster thinking the guy might still be alive, but he was clearly dead. May have been there from overnight."

Patrolman Adams' partner, Kent Hartman continued. "Accordingly to his license, his name is Henry Hammer, age twenty-seven from the area. We ran a check on him and he goes by the nickname of Buddy. He has a short record mostly as a two bit hood. The last known address is an apartment that he shared with his brother, Eric. He also worked at a pool hall his uncle owned just a few blocks away on Walnut."

"How did he die?" Steve asked.

Adams nodded towards the body as it was covered and strapped to the stretcher. "Looks like a knife wound to the gut. Given the amount of blood, whoever killed him hit an artery."

"What did he have on him?"

"Just a wallet. No money."

"Gun?"

"Are you kidding? No, if the guy was armed, whoever killed him took care of that."

"Wonder what kind of trouble he was into?" Mike asked aloud.

"In this area, it could be anything." Hartman answered.

Steve peered into the dumpster but backed off. The stench was horrific; the byproduct of several days of trash from the hotel residents mixed with eighty degree heat. "No blood on the outside of the dumpster and nothing on the ground. Perhaps he wasn't stabbed here, but transported and dumped?" Steve suggested as he turned his head and took in a lungful of fresh air.

"Good point," Mike agreed. "I wonder if we can get some prints from the dumpster lid."

"Asphalt alley, no footprints or tire tracks here," Steve observed.

"What's this?" Mike queried as he continued to look inside the dumpster.

"What do you see?" Steve peered back into the dumpster.

"There…it's a small package, maybe an envelope. It's not dirty like everything else. Can you reach it?"

"No." Steve leaned over but the object of Mike's curiosity was inches away. He knew what was coming.

"You'll need to climb in," Mike said, oblivious to the look his partner was giving him. "Try not to touch the side of the dumpster."

Steve sighed."There's got to be another way." He was confounded when he couldn't find it and carefully pulled himself up and over the side. He suppressed the urge to gag and instead held his breath. The sound of a squishy ooze under his shoes further exasperated the young man.

"Here, use this," Mike ordered as he handed his partner a handkerchief. Steve started to cover his mouth with the cloth, when Mike stopped him."Not for you…use it to pick up the package."

Steve issued a slight pout and then quickly retrieved the package. He handed everything to his partner and then asked with faux sincerity, "Anything else while I'm in here?" He didn't want to think about what was happening to the cuffs of his slacks.

Mike took a long minute to look around. "No, everything else looks like it's been there a while." He turned in order to suppress a slight grin."Thanks."

"Don't mention it," Steve said dryly as he hoisted himself back over the side of the dumpster. "What is it?"

"I don't know, but we'll find out. Let's get it to the lab and have them check it for prints, then they can open it." Mike called over to the forensic investigator. "Charlie, take this, dust it and then check the contents. Let me know what you find."

Eric was behind the counter at the pool hall when Joey walked in.

"Hey, kid." The young man greeted the boy. "Here kind of early, huh?"

"Yeah, not much to do at home. Can I help with something, Eric?"

"Sure, Joey. Why don't you go back and get a broom and mop? The floor could use a good cleaning. Buddy didn't come home last night. He probably got lucky. I haven't seen him yet, but I knew he had things to do today. When he comes in, he may have something else for you."

After a few minutes, two uniformed police officers walked into the building. Eric became nervous at the sight and hoped that Joey would stay in the backroom.

"Are you Eric Hammer?" the officer asked.

"Yes, how can I help you?" Eric fought the urge to run.

"I am sorry to say that we found your brother, Henry, this morning over by the Lilac Hotel. He was found dead in the alley. We have investigators there now. I am very sorry."

Eric was stunned. Tears welled in his eyes. "Not Buddy…"

The officer continued."I understand you have an uncle, a James Hammer. Are you two the only relatives?"

"Yes," Eric looked lost.

"I understand James Hammer owns this place. Is your uncle here now?"

"No, sir. He doesn't come here often because Buddy runs the place. Uncle Jimmy is probably home."

"Mr. Hammer, I am sure this has been a shock to you. A couple of detectives will be coming by to talk to you some more, but for now, please accept our condolences. I need to tell you that your brother is being taken to the morgue. You or your uncle should go down there to identify him."

The officers left. Eric stood with his hands on the counter looking down. Tears fell."I can't believe it," he whispered. "Not my brother."

Joey leaned against the doorway which led to the back room. Neither police officer saw him.

"I'm so sorry, Eric."