Grissom and Catherine had located an address for Doug Singleton. They had
called Brass and he went with them to the house. It was about 7:00am on
Sunday. The house was not too far from Michael Stone's, not surprising
since the bus 394 serviced the neighborhood. Brass knocked on the front
door and a slender, slightly balding man in his mid-forties, coffee cup in
one hand answered.
"Doug Singleton?" Brass asked.
"Yes," he answered.
"Jim Brass, LVPD. This is Gil Grissom and Catherine Willows from the Crime Lab," Brass explained, flashing his badge.
"What can I do for you folks?" Doug Singleton asked.
Brass responded, "We'd like to ask you some questions if you don't mind."
"Sure, come on in." He showed them into the house, a house that was the same floor plan as every other house on the street, with minor variations. The home was impeccably neat and organized.
As the trio seated themselves on the couch, Mr. Singleton took a seat a chair on the opposite side of the coffee table from the couch.
"Mr. Singleton, do you ride the 394 bus out of downtown?" Grissom began.
"Yeah, I ride it about once a week, I don't schedule client meetings for Fridays." He explained.
Brass continued, "Mr. Singleton, did you ride the 394 on Friday evening?"
"Uh, no. I take the 394 home around 3:00 because I only work a half day on Fridays. I work nine hour days the rest of the week. Oh, my, that's the bus they guy was killed on." He answered with a shocked look on his face.
"That is correct. We found your fingerprints on money used to pay for bus fare on the 394 that day. We're trying to get in contact with anyone who rode the bus on the 5:00 run to see if they remember anything unusual. Can anyone verify your whereabouts on Friday?" Catherine continued.
"Uh, yeah. Let me give you my business card, you can call my boss, Harold Stevens. He and I had a meeting right before I left on Friday." Doug Singleton handed his business card over to Catherine.
"And where did you go after work?" Brass pressed
"I came home, as usual. My wife wasn't feeling well, so she asked me to pick up a prescription for her at the pharmacy. Since I was going out, my daughter asked if I could drop her and a couple of her friends at the movie theater down by the mall. I dropped the girls off at the theater, went and picked up the prescription, got gas, and stopped by Costco on the way back to pick the girls up from the movies." he fumbled around in his wallet he continued talking, "Oh, here they are. I've got my receipts from Friday right here."
He handed the receipts over to Brass. Brass perused them and handed them back to Doug Singleton. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Singleton. Sorry to have bothered you at such an early hour."
"No problem. We get up early on Sundays, my daughter has soccer practice at 7:00." He explained.
The trio stood up and made their way to the door. As they walked back to the Tahoe, Brass asked, "Where does that put us now?"
"Square one." Grissom answered putting his sunglasses on and getting behind the wheel.
"Doug Singleton?" Brass asked.
"Yes," he answered.
"Jim Brass, LVPD. This is Gil Grissom and Catherine Willows from the Crime Lab," Brass explained, flashing his badge.
"What can I do for you folks?" Doug Singleton asked.
Brass responded, "We'd like to ask you some questions if you don't mind."
"Sure, come on in." He showed them into the house, a house that was the same floor plan as every other house on the street, with minor variations. The home was impeccably neat and organized.
As the trio seated themselves on the couch, Mr. Singleton took a seat a chair on the opposite side of the coffee table from the couch.
"Mr. Singleton, do you ride the 394 bus out of downtown?" Grissom began.
"Yeah, I ride it about once a week, I don't schedule client meetings for Fridays." He explained.
Brass continued, "Mr. Singleton, did you ride the 394 on Friday evening?"
"Uh, no. I take the 394 home around 3:00 because I only work a half day on Fridays. I work nine hour days the rest of the week. Oh, my, that's the bus they guy was killed on." He answered with a shocked look on his face.
"That is correct. We found your fingerprints on money used to pay for bus fare on the 394 that day. We're trying to get in contact with anyone who rode the bus on the 5:00 run to see if they remember anything unusual. Can anyone verify your whereabouts on Friday?" Catherine continued.
"Uh, yeah. Let me give you my business card, you can call my boss, Harold Stevens. He and I had a meeting right before I left on Friday." Doug Singleton handed his business card over to Catherine.
"And where did you go after work?" Brass pressed
"I came home, as usual. My wife wasn't feeling well, so she asked me to pick up a prescription for her at the pharmacy. Since I was going out, my daughter asked if I could drop her and a couple of her friends at the movie theater down by the mall. I dropped the girls off at the theater, went and picked up the prescription, got gas, and stopped by Costco on the way back to pick the girls up from the movies." he fumbled around in his wallet he continued talking, "Oh, here they are. I've got my receipts from Friday right here."
He handed the receipts over to Brass. Brass perused them and handed them back to Doug Singleton. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Singleton. Sorry to have bothered you at such an early hour."
"No problem. We get up early on Sundays, my daughter has soccer practice at 7:00." He explained.
The trio stood up and made their way to the door. As they walked back to the Tahoe, Brass asked, "Where does that put us now?"
"Square one." Grissom answered putting his sunglasses on and getting behind the wheel.