Ouch wow I feel really bad haha. How long has it been since I've updated? Sorry guys! Busy times are finally dying down for me now ;) I will be here more often.
I'm not really sure what to call this chapter or the next one. It was originally meant to be combined into one whole chapter, but then it got too long. Sorry about that. I feel like this chapter is not important in some parts, but essentially because of the characters and their development.
Thanks for the followers and reviews and views and basically EVERYTHING!
Review, and Good luck!
-Olo Eopia03
- Chapter 26 ~ The Case (Part I) -
It has been a capital mistake to theorize before you have all the evidence. It biases the judgment.
"So I guess we have to deal with each other now?" Kitts nodded in Shem's direction as she steered the car forward.
Unfortunately, Shem thought, and shrugged in response. The two of them were the only ones in the car. Shem had told Ira to go with Alistor to the school, maybe learn a few things about Alex Carter. But now he was stuck with Kitts.
"Why leave those two in a pair?" Christina asked to fill up the silence.
"They're a better combination working together," Shem said, resting his head onto the headrest. He wished the car would go faster - maybe 120 miles an hour. "Ira doesn't know it, but she's smart. And Alistor will provide her with all the experience and authority she needs."
"And now we're going to headquarters," Kitts muttered. "Uncover the body for a few hours."
"To see how he was killed, of course," Shem said as he rolled down the window. The car they were in was already slowing down, having arrived at their destination. In a few moments, he got out of the car and walked towards the station with Christina Kitts running to his side. "And this is something Ira wouldn't be able to handle seeing."
Christina nodded, and the two of them entered through the double doors.
[xxx]
"Wait - before we start." Kitts handed Shem a small photograph. The two of them were standing by a long, clean slate, with a large mass lying on top and a sheet covering it.
"Found in his jeans?" Shem asked, and Kitts nodded. Shem looked thoughtfully at the photo. There was no writing on the back or anywhere that could indicate when or where the picture was taken. Two dark-skinned girls stood at the center. With the details of the faded background, Shem noted that it was an old picture taken in Libya.
"Your thoughts?" Kitts pushed onward. It was weird because it was so awkward. Shem had wanted to ignore her - he didn't understand why Kitts was so uncomfortable with silence.
"How could he be a horrible teenager . . ." Shem murmured to himself. He placed the photograph on the table.
"Excuse me?" Kitts blinked at him. "Alex Carter was in a Nazi-loving group. He got into fights often. He was even obsessed with the mass genocide in Libya a few years ago."
Shem shrugged. "Or maybe he just made a few wrong turns. It's typical for a teenager like him."
"I'm going to call Inspector Mills," Kitts muttered, ignoring Shem's comment. "Probably send the picture to him by text. If they're going to the school today, they might as well find out if the girls go to school there as well."
"A possible choice," Shem said, but he shook his head. "But from the background in the picture and how old the colors are - the photograph is mostly likely about a decade old - too old for the girls to still be in high school, and too old for Alex Carter to learn of their whereabouts."
"Look - Shem," Christina Kitts said as she glanced at the covered body. She held up the picture to his face. "A racist student - carrying a picture of two African-American girls?"
Shem shrugged.
"They could have nothing to do with the story."
"Or they could be his next targets," Kitts insisted. "Assuming they're not already victims."
A look of doubt crosses his face.
Okay, if you say so, Ms. Kitts, Shem thought, and with that, he uncovered the face of the body on the table.
The boy's eyes were closed, his face black and blue. He looked almost older than Shem, but Shem knew that this was a boy who was just like him.
Shem threw off the covers completely to inspect every part of the body. Kitts' nose wrinkled in disgust.
"Hm," Shem said to himself, prodding different sections of the skin with his gloved hands. "Numerous abrasions, all inflicted at different periods of time. A lot of puncture wounds due to tumbling through the debris-filled water. White supremacist tattoo across the upper right arm. Knuckles thickened. Skin discolored. He was no stranger to using his fists."
"See, all the more to consider him a stalker of two girls." Kitts shot back at him. Shem ignored her, and took a dissecting knife in his hand from the table as he continued to examine the body.
Bones fractured and never properly reset. Not into drugs. No toxins circulating anywhere throughout the body. Very clean.
Suddenly, a smile crossed Shem's lips.
"I win," Shem said smugly. "He didn't drown."
"What?"
"Pair of nasal sinuses are negative for water," Shem said, his fingers tracing the center of his face. "There was no way he could've drowned."
"What - Then what killed him?" Kitts asked, slightly offended but with a tinge of curiosity flickering in her voice.
That's what we're about to find out, Shem thought to himself, and he began to draw the dissecting tool down the body's mid-section.
A strangled sound was emitted from the older woman behind Shem, but she quickly quieted down as Shem continued to dissect the body. For a while, Shem remembered working on so many cases like these that it was a natural instinct for him to examine every part of the body. Christina Kitts watched quietly as Shem continued to open up the body before them.
In a few minutes, the chest had been sliced open, revealing the major organs.
Shem felt for the skin right above the ribs, over the area of the lungs, and his fingers brushed over a deep stabbing wound. It was small, almost undetectable if one were to glance at it.
Shem looked into the body and slowly – carefully – took out one of the lungs from the body – the one that had been punctured by a strange object.
"It's a weird shape," Shem said, amused. "Puncture wound extends into the lung. Size of the clot can lead to roughly two liters of blood loss –" He proceeded to cut the lung in half; the stab wound was clean, but deep. "-Wound is cylindrical – roughly three inches deep, an eighth of an inch wide."
Shem turned over one half of the lung, tracing over the surface. The shape that had punctured the organ was in the shape of a four-cornered star. Shem smirked.
"What – what is it?" Kitts said impatiently.
"It's a screwdriver." Shem said simply.
Kitts stared at the wound.
"His body could've run into it while he was treading the waters." Kitts said, although a bit lamely.
"Look, the wound is so clean," Shem said, tracing over the skin with his fingers. He looked Christina in the eye. "Death is known to be unpredictable. Murder though - completely planned."
A look of disbelief crossed her face, but it was soon overtaken by an expression full of disappointment.
She wanted to feel the satisfaction of being right – that you didn't have to go see the body to understand the accident that had happened a few nights ago – that Alex Carter really did drown at the bottom of the sewers.
But in the end, it had been concluded to be a murder.
Well, too bad, Shem thought as he turned to face her. Sometimes you can't have everything in this world.
"We're done here," Shem muttered, and he left the body. Before he walked the doors, however, he raised his voice a little, and slowed down so that the woman behind him could hear him. "This is why, Ms. Kitts, you consider all the possibilities!"
[xxx]
"So, if you've already gone to the school, then where to?"
"Marianne Carter." Inspector Mills answered Ira's question as the two of them got out of the car. They had parked just outside one of the houses in the neighborhood.
Oh, no, Ira thought. Are we doing what I think we're –
"We're . . . We're going to tell her what happened to Alex . . .?" Ira asked quietly, her voice almost choking out the words. The older man nodded. Ira wanted to shake her head and sigh. She did not want to do this.
I can't tell someone that their close one just . . . Died . . . That's so terrib-
"Marianne Carter is Alex's grandmother on his mom's side," Inspector Mills said, interrupting Ira's thoughts. "She is the only current connection to Alex Carter. They're fairly close, and this is where the boy resides when he is not at school."
This time, Ira really does sigh. She would hate to pass such a heavy – and heart-breaking – message to Alex's only family connection left. It was going to be painful.
"So I've spoken with the principal earlier today," Mills continued as the two of them neared the porch of the house. "One - to confirm if he recognized two girls from a picture Shem and Christina found in the jeans of Alex Carter - which by the way he has no clue who the girls are, and two - to confirm your enrollment. You will be attending Rosalind High for a week at most, so you can find out how other students are reacting to Carter's death. Principal Davis warmly complied with the decision of your enrollment."
"Thank you for going through all that trouble." Ira said. The inspector eyed her thoughtfully.
"The principal also told me a few things about Alex Carter," Mills said. They were standing in front of the door now, but had not yet taken the action of knocking. "His life was full of hate."
Wow, poor guy, Ira thought, a feeling of sympathy coursing through her. First, he was known to be discriminated by almost everyone at his school. Then he just died - or he was possibly murdered - and was found at the bottom of the sewers. Could his life get any worse?
"He had an abusive father who left his mom due to a love affair," Inspector Mills said. "Then his mom died of cancer."
I can't believe I just said that, Ira thought to herself as Alistor proceeded to knock on the door. She wanted to facepalm herself. I can't believe I just asked myself if his life could get any wors-
The door opened, and the face of a wrinkly, old woman poked out the door. Her hair was white and stringy, all tied in a small bun, and her deep gray eyes gleamed back at Ira with a welcoming expression.
"Why hello there. Can I help you?" The elder woman said, warmly. Her kind attitude only made Ira want to leave and not break the news that her grandson was dead.
But she did not leave. Alistor smiled at the elder woman and asked to come inside, in which the woman happily agreed. Alistor pushed Ira gently inside, and the two of them walked through the door.
"May I help you? You can call me Grandma Carter," Marianne Carter said again. Her smile was contagious. Her house was bright, but warm and cozy. It wasn't too big, but anyone could see that Alex Carter and his grandmother were pretty well off. "Would you like some tea?"
"No thank you." Ira smiled back politely.
"Are you sure?" Grandma Carter insisted. "I can make you a glass of green tea."
"No, no, thank you dear," Mills said warmly. He continued on with a gentle tone. "So you're the guardian of Alex Carter, yes?"
The old woman's eyes lit up in recognition.
"Yes."
Ira and Mills exchanged a glance.
"Please, sit down, Mrs. Carter. I have some bad news," Inspector Mills guided her to a couch near the edge of the room, and he took a deep breath. In that moment, Ira knew that he hated this job just as much as she did - that he hated the idea that this kind woman had to know of the death of her grandson. "I'm sorry ma'am, but Alex is dead. His body was found near the sewer system near the high school," He paused a bit, to see how the woman was taking this all in. The light was slowly fading from her eyes. "I'm sorry to tell you this."
"Oh," The old woman let out. Her voice had broken, and a few tears had fallen from her eyes. Grandma Carter let out a soft sob. "No, no."
Ira placed a hand on the woman's shoulder, and gave a small squeeze. Her own was heart breaking. "We are so sorry for your lost."
Grandma Carter continued to sob quietly, and Inspector Mills slowly drew himself up, straightening out his collar.
"Ma'am," Mills said wearily. "We need to take a look around Alex's room. Would that be okay with you?"
Mrs. Carter sniffed as another tear fell. "Oh, of course, of course dear. It's the first door on the left."
"Thank you."
Within a few moments, Mills was gone, leaving Ira to comfort the old woman.
But as soon as Grandma Carter stands from her chair, a large, radiant smile fills her face.
"When Alex comes back, I'm sure he'd be happy to show such a pretty girl like you around," Grandma Carter said warmly. The tears were gone from her face, and a feeling of confusion penetrated Ira's mind. "Would you like some tea?"
Okay, something's going on here, Ira thought. Is she in denial?
"No, no," Ira said gently. She placed both of her hands onto the elder woman's shoulders to show that she was being firm with what she was about to say. Ira's eyes gleamed with sympathy. "Mrs. Carter. I'm sorry, but you have to understand that Alex isn't coming back. He's . . . He's dead. He's gone."
This time, a look of confusion floods Grandma Carter's face.
"Oh. . . How . . . How did it happen?"
Ira sighed sadly. "I guess that's what we're here to find out, Grandma Carter. Again, I'm really sorry for your loss."
When Ira looked back at Grandma Carter, Ira noticed the smile return to the elder woman's face once more.
"Well, then," The woman continued as she put a hand on Ira's shoulder. "We'll just have to wait for Alex to get back, right?"
Ira blinked. Then, it all clicked, and her eyes widen.
Oh.
Oh my gods.
A new batch of tears threatened to leave Ira's eyes.
"He'll certainly be able to shed some light on . . ." Grandma Carter trails off, and it looked as though her eyes were searching for an answer. "On um . . . -"
Ira reached out, a tear escaping her eye. Nevertheless, she mustered a weak smile. "It's okay. It's okay Mrs. Carter."
"Can I get you some tea?" Grandma Carter asked again. Ira smiled and wiped her eyes. She struggled to take a deep breath.
"Yeah, that would be great." Ira sniffed, and Mrs. Carter left to go to the kitchen, a smile on her face.
Ira left the room to find Inspector Mills and give Grandma Carter her privacy. Ira sniffed again, and felt her heart wrenching out of her chest. The solution of the confusion about Grandma Carter had made itself clear.
[xxx]
"Alzheimer's."
Ira saw Inspector Mills turn around as she leaned against the wall. Ira let out another breath that she never knew she'd been holding in. Inspector Mills looked at her questioningly.
"Alzheimer's disease," Ira said again. "Grandma Carter has it."
The inspector's face is filled with pain and sympathy.
"That must've been hard."
The two of them walked around Alex's room in silence. Ira watched as Inspector Mills snapped a few pictures of the space with his camera. Vaguely, memories of Shem mentioning his long-ago love for taking pictures flood Ira's mind.
Ira took note of the large maps hanging near the window, the pictures of Hitler and Stalin decorating the walls. A laptop sat on the bed, and stacks of papers were scattered across the room. A plethora of books dominated almost any other unoccupied space - heavy reading books.
"Not at all what I was expecting." Mills muttered to himself. Ira looked at him. "Look at these books. Seems like he was whip smart. And fascinated with killing."
Could it be something Shem had been expecting all along? Ira thought. He did already solve more than half of the puzzle.
The two of them scanned the room for a few more minutes, look at the books about mass genocide, scientific theories, and more interestingly the killings in Libya a few years back.
"We have to tell everything we see to Shem," Ira commented as her fingers brushed against a poster. "He'll definitely have more things to tell us as well."
"I find it hard that he's found such a nice girl like you," Alistor said. Ira blinked. "Your personalities collide so much."
"I mean - um - we're not like - together or anything, you know," Ira stuttered, quite taken aback. Inspector Mills eyed her thoughtfully. "We're just on a really important errand. Something that includes me as well."
"Well, together or not together," Mills said. "You fit well for a person like him."
"Unlike Christina Kitts," Ira muttered. "I don't understand how they're working together right now."
Inspector Mills began to walk away from the room.
"She doesn't understand him, and tends to get jealous easily," He said, her back turned to her. "I'd be lucky if I could become half the man Mr. Baker is, and that would only amount to a good enough man."
Was that a compliment? I think I just heard a compliment.
Ira followed him out the door and down the hallway. She knew that as long as he lived, Inspector Mills would not have said that straight to Shem's face.
Shem was still the crazy boy with an obsession with ice cream and was titled to be the number one criminal who blew up the Library of Congress.
But he was also the hidden boy from ten years ago, the boy who never revealed his secrets. Mills did not know that.
"But you may think I don't know some stuff about Shem." Mills continued, and Ira's footsteps stopped for a moment at the sudden shock that he had read her thoughts.
"You don't."
Mills looked at her.
"Sure. But it'll be a while until you encounter a great man like him again."
[xxx]
The only way to get something as big as a body into the draining system, Shem thought. The sun's warmth washed over him. Is through an access point on the line.
The two of them were a few blocks away from the crime scene. Almost every part of that street had been blocked off, so as far as Shem knew, he and Kitts were the only ones there.
"The day of the crime, we discovered another access point not far from the body." Kitts said.
Talking again, Shem thought. To fill up the silence.
"The walls had tons of graffiti," Kitts continued. "The symbol of the concentric circles was the most dominant illustration on the wall. We found a lot of brochures about his call to joining the Nazi Germany group. We guessed it was Carter's hang out."
"Well judging from what you've found," Shem said gruffly. "It was probably more of a clan house, not a club house."
Shem looked around, taking off his coat and placing it on a bench nearby. He was wearing a pair of dark jeans and a dark button up shirt.
Another access point caught his eye, and Shem walked toward it, with Kitts following closely behind.
"The rain from a few days ago . . ." Shem muttered to himself. He wouldn't have been able to tell the exact age of the rainwater if it had not been for the data collected on the day itself. He also would have been able to tell whether or not there were traces of rainwater left.
Only Elli Fugino, the current daughter of Poseidon, would be able to do all these things.
First, at the Library of Congress, he'd needed Petra. Now he could use the help of Elli. It seemed as though just being the son of Athena wouldn't be enough.
But he wasn't just the son of Athena.
He was Shem Baker.
"There." Shem said, and he pointed at the very edge of the lid on the ground. He kneeled down near the access point.
"What?" Kitts asked eagerly, and she knelt down next to him.
Shem stooped down to pluck out a few fibers that stuck out from a crack.
"The same colored fibers from Carter's jacket," Shem said, rubbing the red pieces of thread through his fingers. "This was probably where the body was dumped."
Shem closed his eyes as the images flooded his mind.
There was a scuffle. The deafening noise of rain.
The dark hooded man struggled to drag the body over . . . Over . . .
Over - and into the hole.
A loud, sickening splash.
Shem gripped the underside of the lid that covered the floor, and Kitts proceeded to help him uncover the sewer system.
The two of them went down the narrow access point, scaling down the ladder and splashing into the water below.
Shem scanned the area. A few mounds of trash here and there . . . wet rags . . .
"Ah," Shem grinned, and he waded over to a large, white garbage bag that was caught by near the ladder. Shem reached into it. The metallic color had caught his eye. He looked back at Christina and held the object up in his hand, his hand now free from the garbage bag. "Never make assumptions."
His hand was held up, and the newly procured screwdriver glinted in the light.
[xxx]
". . . So that was what we found at Grandma Carter's place." Ira finished. The four of them - Ira, Christina Kitts, Inspector Mills, and Shem - sat around the table back at the detective's headquarters, listening to the latest account of each person.
Kitts stood up.
"So it all fits in place now," Kitts began. "He was murdered because people wanted justice. He promoted the harsh government of Nazi Germany, and was always thought to get into fights at school. All we need to do now is to see who was willing to stand up to him, and put him in his place."
Shem chuckled.
"Shem," Ira said slowly. "What's up?"
"Isn't it more obvious?" Shem said, the delight eminent in his voice. The other three looked at him. "His books on mass genocide, his participation in the Nazi Group. He really is a good person!"
Everyone stared at him. The silence was almost too loud for everyone to endure.
Shem nodded to himself, grinning broadly.
"You're crazy," Kitts sighed. She also sounded as though she was saying, I was right to say he was a freak in the first place. "You saw his wounds. How can you believe he's done good actions when you've already seen all of the damage he's caused?"
"Again, you're being narrow minded," Shem snapped back. He walked swiftly to the door, then stopped. His back was facing the other three. "Don't you get it? Was it really damage he caused? Or damage caused to him? Bring any suspects tomorrow. I will speak to them after Ira has attended her classes at school."
And with that, he left.
Ira looked at Christina Kitts and Inspector Mills with an apologetic expression.
"I-I'm sorry," Ira managed, almost just as confused as the other two. She stood up quickly. "He really acts that way sometimes. Just . . . I'm gonna go now? Yeah, thanks - sorry. See you both tomorrow."
Ira walked quickly out the door at Alistor's nod, and she shook her head once she was out of the building. Maybe they would find out what Shem meant soon enough.