Dan and Norm rolled up at the scene on Kansas St. The older house was on Potrero Hill, just a few blocks from Mike's De Haro home. They pulled their green Ford Galaxie up behind a black and white, its strobes still flashing.
A uniformed officer was at the bottom of a flight of concrete steps, controlling the scene.
"What do we have?" Norm asked.
"A nasty one. Looks like a suicide. Couple of days old. Neighbors called in the smell. I hope you guys have a change of clothes back at the barn, you're gonna need to take those to the cleaners to get rid of the smell once you go in.
"Great," Dan said as he slipped his jack off. Norm was doing the same. He took both jackets and tossed them on the back seat of their car.
"Do we have an ID?" Norm asked, taking his notebook out of his pocket.
"Guy ate his gun, so facial won't do you any good. We didn't find a wallet, but we didn't spend a lot of time in there. Left it for the pros."
"Gee, thanks, Norm said as he pocketed his notes. Do me a favor, go to the houses on either side and see if you can get an ID on the owner. Might not be our victim, but it'll be a start. I'll send your partner down to monitor the entrance.
"No problemo. Just don't make me go back in there, it's awful."
Norm jogged up the stairs with Dan at his heals. The reek of death smacked them both before they hit the top step. The officer at the door had tied a white handkerchief around his nose and mouth.
Dan looked at his name tag, "Hart, go down to the bottom and don't let anybody up except the coroner. I assume you already called him."
"Thanks, glad to. A couple of more minutes up here and I would have lost my lunch. And yes, the meat wagon and the lab are inbound." He hit the steps at a run, pulling off the handkerchief.
The smell was an order of magnitude worse when the detectives entered the door. They didn't have to go far to find the victim. He was seated in a leather recliner in the front room, a 38 revolver still in his right hand. They guy from patrol was right, most of the victim's face was gone. The front of his white dress shirt was drenched with blood.
Norm looked at Dan. "Even for a .38, that's an awful lot of facial damage. I'd expect to see the back of the head look like that, not the front.
Dan put his sleeved arm in front of his face to help minimize the smell, circling the body to look at it from the back. "I see what you mean. You think it's staged?"
"That would be my guess. Bernie will be able to tell us more when he gets here. Don't touch anything until we get the body photographed, then we'll see how many rounds are left in the gun. That should tell us a lot."
Dan nodded his head in agreement.
The detectives walked the room but nothing else appeared to be out of the ordinary. They went through house.
"You notice anything weird, Norm?"
"Not really, but this place looks kinda sterile, don't you think?"
"Exactly, there's no wallet, no mail, no family photos. There isn't even any trash in the cans. It's like it's been sweep."
They were contemplating what that meant when there was a loud rap on the door. Dan and Norm both exited, just to escape the smell for a few minutes. The uniform from below had retreated down several steps when they came out the door.
Norm took a deep breath. "You find out who lives here?"
"Guy on the left wasn't home. Woman with a baby on her hip next door says the guys name is Dan Morgan. He rented the place about a year ago and lives alone."
"Shit!" Norm swore.
"What?" Dan was puzzled by Norms reaction.
"Do me a favor, haul back over there and find out if this guy was a cop."
The officer blanched. "You think he's one of us?"
"That might be a stretch. If it's who I think it is, he was IA and I'll have to back away from the case. This guy's been on me like white on rice for the past week and fell off the face of the earth a couple days ago."
Norm turned to Dan as the patrolman jogged back down the steps. "If its who I think it is, Captain Sill's from IA needs to get out here pronto. We also need to call Mike. He and Steve have been looking for this guy, he and a Fed named Talbot pulled some hinky stuff with the lab evidence in my case. The situation had just gone from bad to worse.
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Steve froze, drawing in a startled breath. He couldn't believe someone had come up on him so quietly. He felt another shove, followed by a puff of warm air on his back. When no one spoke, he turned his head slightly and found himself eye to eye with a stunning roan. She snorted. He exhaled in relief and wondered which one the curious "girls" had snuck up on him for a little attention.
After giving the mare a gentle rub on the muzzle, he slipped out of his hiding place and walked toward the barn. The panic inducing encounter intensified his sense of urgency. He didn't know how much time he had to look around, but he decided to make the best of it.
The barn door was open and he took his time walking up one side and down the other, giving the for stallions a wide berth. Nothing seemed out of place. When he got back to the front door, he saw the ladder to the loft on the right, which he quickly climbed. Again, there was nothing but feed sacks and haybales.
Once back on ground level, Steve found a door directly behind the ladder. He opened it and pulled the chain of the bare bulb hanging from the ceiling. The bulb illuminated a combination tack/equipment room. One side had a row of saddle racks, about half of which were full. The back wall was coved with reins and bridles. On his right was a tall shelf with blankets, brushes and other equipment he could not identify. It all looked perfectly legitimate.
Next to the shelf was an industrial metal cabinet. There was a padlock on a hasp securing the doors, but who ever had opened it last must have been in a hurry. The shackle had not been pushed home. Steve took off the lock and opened the cabinet. It was filled with boxes. He knew time was running short, so rather than searching, he shook several of the boxes and in one heard glass containers jingling against one another. He flipped open the flap. It was half filled with vials of a clear liquid.
The sound of a truck approaching on the gravel drive ended his search. Steve slipped one of the vials into his pocket, closed the door and replaced the lock. He pulled the chain on the light and slammed the door shut just in time to meet Kate coming back through the barn door.
"That was quick." Steve said breathlessly as he shoved his hand in his pocket to secure the vial.
"Yeah, the vineyard's just on the other side of the main road. Unfortunately, Pete can't get down here for at least an hour."
Steve began to speak but was interrupted by the sound of squeaking door. Mike had exited the office.
"He pops, we got a problem. The boss can't get down here for an hour." Steve raised his voice so it would carry to the back of the barn.
Mike spoke when came abreast the others. "That's a shame, but we gotta get back. Jeannie's gonna be so disappointed."
"Hang on," Kate said. "You didn't let me finish. "Pete can't get down here, but you can go up the Vineyard and meet him. He's on his way back to the big house and said he'll meet you on the back porch in 10 minutes or so.
"Great, great!" Mike said as he offered his hand to Kate. "Thanks so much. I can't wait to see my Jeannie up on one of those beautiful horses. It'll be her dream come true."
Steve turned to Kate and smiled, "See what I mean, spoils her rotten. Thanks for all your help, I think this is going to work out just fine."
Kate returned to the barn as Mike and Steve walked to the car.
"Find anything?" Mike asked quietly.
"After I got the crap scared out of me by a horse, yeah I did."
Once they were in the more or less private confines of the LTD, they share their discoveries. Steve pulled the vial out of his pocket and looked at it carefully for the first time. He handed it to Mike.
"Ketamine. Where'd you find this?"
"It was in the tack room in a big metal cabinet." Mike was about to chastise him for removing evidence, but Steve added, "It was unlocked, I swear, and she told me to look around. There was a box of about 30 doses, half were missing."
"You see anything else?"
"Yep, that vehicle that the cowgirl drove off in, it's our pickup. Mud is still on the license plate. I would swear to that in court. What did you get in the office?"
Mike pulled the slip of paper out of his pocket and handed it over.
"Meyer. Is that the real family name?"
Mike nodded.
"That's great! How did you find it?" Steve handed the paper back to Mike.
"It was written on the other side of a family portrait on the wall. Along with a date and a town."
"DoJ and Interpol are gonna love this."
"Yep, they will definitely owe us. There was also a copy of the newspaper picture you found in Miriam's journal in a frame. Same couple in both pictures, separated by about 20 years. I think we have everything we need to move on them."
"Do you want to go up to the main house?"
Mike thought carefully about the risk. They had already pressed their luck, but the opportunity to gather more information was compelling."
"What do you think?"
"My only concern is the missing evidence. Unless we get the fingerprint cards back, it's all just circumstantial evidence and theory. We need more. Look, the only one who saw me was Georg, and Kate said he hasn't been around. I think it's worth the risk."
"What about Talbot, Morgan and Jones. We gotta think one or more of them are in on this. They could be here and would definitely recognize us."
"True. But I still think we're on a hot streak. Maybe we should roll the dice one more time."
"And hope it doesn't turn up snake eyes. Be that as it may, I agree with you. But let's make it quick, in and out and then back to the sheriff's office. We are going to needs warrants and local law if we are going to make any arrests. We will probably need DoJ approval to make a move on the old man. War crimes are their department."
Steve nodded in agreement. He started the car and pulled out of the lot, oblivious to the man on horseback just beyond the trees.