When You Come Back Down
Chapter 1
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Don't own 'em! They just use my head for a playground sometimes!!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
September 10, 2003. . .
Garret walked down the quiet hall of the morgue towards the office that Nigel shared with Bug. As expected, he found Nige sitting, working on something at his computer.
"Evening, Nigel."
"Oh, hey boss. I'm just working on. . ." Nigel turned the sound down and tried to cover the screen that displayed the random songs he was putting together for a CD he was going to burn for someone ~ he just hadn't figured out who yet.
"Nigel, it's ok. I'm bored too. Nice song, by the way. What was it?"
"Oh, it's just something by Nickel Creek."
"I never took you for a country fan, Nigel. But then I guess there are a lot of things we don't know about each other." Garret tried to get to know his staff, but other than Jordan, he felt like he hardly knew any of them. Well, Lily ~ but that was for other reasons entirely.
"Yeah. Is it me or is it quiet around here tonight?"
"It's quiet. Too quiet." Garret knew all too well what could happen when things got this quiet. They'd either fall asleep or chaos would take hold. He prayed that it was the former. There was enough stuff going on with Jordan in her usual pre-birthday funk. He knew it was to be expected, every year as her birthday approached, Jordan got testy and snappish. He understood why. Really he did. He just wished there was a way he could make it better. She was the baby sister he never had and watching her spiral down every year around this time tore his heart out.
"I know, mate. I wish I could help her out too." Somehow Nigel could always read his mind. Though it didn't take a keen observer to know that Jordan was not a happy camper. "You know, I wonder if our dear Woodrow has anything special planned for the special day."
"Nigel! Really. Do you think that they're. . ." The thought never occurred to Garret. He knew Woody was head over heels in love with Jordan, but she never seemed to think of him as more than a great friend. Good old platonic stuff.
"Bloody hell, no. But you know how he is."
"True. Oh my God." Garret paused, remembering a couple of weeks earlier when Woody had come into his office. . .
*****
"Garret? Do you have a minute?"
"Yeah, Woody. Come on in. What's up?"
"I wanted to talk with you about Jordan." Woody came in and closed the door behind him.
"Has she done. . .?" Garret was almost afraid to ask.
"No, no. Nothing like that. It's just, well, I know her birthday's coming up soon and I know it's not really a time of happy thoughts for her."
"Right. We're bracing for our annual round with 'Hurricane Jordan' as we lovingly refer to most of September around here."
"Well, I was thinking that I want to get her something special ~ not a lot, just something to. . ."
"Woody, I hope you're not thinking about a puppy. I've seen Jordan's plants and I don't think. . ."
"No, no. I saw a locket in a store the other day that was beautiful. I was thinking that maybe I could get a picture of everyone in the morgue ~ at least you, Bug, Nigel, Lily and Peter ~ and put that on one side, and get a picture of me, Eddie, and maybe a couple of other detectives she's worked with and put on the other side. And a picture of Max in the middle. Sort of a way for her to carry her 'family' with her?"
Garret just looked at the young man. What a great idea. He wondered why he'd never thought of it. Probably because he was always running damage control and trying to keep Jordan sane.
"What? Is it too corny? You don't think she'll like it?" Woody was concerned. He thought it was a great idea. He knew the pictures would have to be small, but still. . .
"No, I think it's a great idea." And Garret went about figuring out how to get the picture without Jordan finding out about it.
*****
"What? What's the. . ." Nigel paused, remembering the picture they'd taken. Garret, Peter, Bug, Lily and himself. But not Jordan. "He's planning to do something with the picture isn't he."
"Yeah. Something that we should have thought of years ago. But I guess we'll have to wait a week or so to see how it turned out." Garret was interrupted by the phone ringing. He leaned over and picked it up. "Medical Examiner's Office. . .Yes. . .Where?. . .How many?. . .Alright, we'll be right over."
"What was that?" Nigel figured they had a case, but. . .he didn't like the paleness on Garret's face.
"A body. Looks like a gang-related beating. Over in an alley near the Harbor." Garret couldn't put a finger on it, but he had a bad feeling in his gut about this one.
"Jeeze, those can be bloody awful."
"Yeah. No ID. Very little face to work with. They said it's brutal."
"Well, we're not making any headway sitting here. I'll grab my bags. Meet me at the elevator." Nigel felt Garret's uneasiness. Something about the ring of the phone hadn't felt right to either of them.
They got in the van and drove to the scene. Detective Carver met them at the police tape.
"Lois, what exactly do we have here?"
"It's brutal Garret. Looks like a gang jumping."
"You mean in or out?"
"Not sure, but probably not. Probably just random violence. No ID on the body. Looks like they took his wallet."
"His?"
"We're pretty sure the victim was male. We know the rules. . ."
"Yeah. Alright, you ready Nige?"
"Sure thing, boss."
"Alright Lois. Where's the body?"
Carver led them to the body. Garret thought he should be used to this by now, but the gang jumpings always got him. The cops on the scene had at least covered the body, but they could see bits of scalp scattered across the sidewalk, intermingled with small grey bits.
"Sweet Nancy." Nigel swallowed hard and looked away.
"I know, Nigel. I know. Come on. Let's do what we need to do." Garret slowly walked to the lump under the sheet. Body. Body. This had been a person. And Carver said that it was probably a random victim.
They pulled the sheet back. God, there was going to be no way to identify the person by dental records. Or anything other than hopefully prints. The face was gone, little more than a bloody pulp. The skull was crushed numerous times from repeated blows, bits of dark hair matted together with blood. Garret swallowed hard, then nodded to Nigel to take the necessary pictures, praying that the film in the camera was black and white. He began to do the basic run down of what he could tell there.
"Ok, this is definitely a male. Cause of death was most likely repeated severe blows to the head, probably with a pipe or bat or something similar. Based on rigor, I'd say he's been here a couple of hours. Probably happened right around dusk. Anything more I'll have to give you later." He nodded to Nigel who brought the body bag over. The uniformed officers helped get the body and as much of the surrounding pieces of skull that they could into the bag, and Nigel rolled the stretcher towards the van.
"I'll be in touch as soon as we know anything, Lois. Thanks."
"No, thank you Garret. These things always get to me. You'd think after all these years. . ."
"I understand." He gave Carver's arm a reassuring squeeze.
Nigel and Garret drove back to the morgue in silence. They'd seen this type of thing before, but what Carver had said was true. No matter how many times you saw it, the level of violence in these gang beatings got to you. More so when it appeared that the victim was an innocent bystander. A random victim of the gang's "wilding."
The autopsy itself didn't take long. Garret's assessment was obviously correct. A few wood fragments confirmed that at least some of the blows had been inflicted by a baseball bat. He knew the odds of finding it were slim to none. That close to the harbor, everything would have been dumped. He could only guess why the body had been left in the alley. Probably the gang was interrupted by some noise and just ran. Odds were this would be unsolved for a long time. He assumed gang, but it could just as easily be mob. Granted they were usually a little cleaner about getting rid of the body, but anything was possible.
Nigel took prints, thanking God that whoever did this didn't dip the hands in acid or in some other way mutilate the fingers making print identification impossible. That's what told him it was probably gang- related. Gang or incompetent mob ~ but probably gang. Prints were their only chance for an identification. He didn't care how good the forensic facial reconstructionist was, no one could put this skull back together and get anything from it. He walked down the hall to input the prints while Garret slid the body into one of the lockers and began to fold the clothes neatly to be placed into a bag for the next of kin once the id was made.
Garret was always methodical and reverent with the personal effects of the bodies that came into the morgue. These had been people with lives and people who loved them. Even the John and Jane Does that came in were someone's child, someone's friend. Shoes went into the bag first. Basic, non-descript Reeboks. The socks he balled up and set next to the shoes. Underwear ~ he knew it seemed strange, but you never knew what the loved ones would want. Then the pants. Button-fly Levi's. He checked quickly, but there was nothing in the pockets. The shirt. A nice, button down blue Oxford, sleeves still rolled up. Again, the pocket yielded nothing.
Last, Garret reached for the light jacket. As he picked it up, he noticed that it hung lower to the left side, so he looked closer. There was an inside pocket. How had the cops missed this? Oh yeah, the "don't touch the body until the ME gets there" rule. Well, maybe this would provide some help. He reached in the pocket and pulled out a small box with a purple bow tied around it. A jewelry box. How had the perpetrators missed this. Unless it wasn't really a robbery. Whoever John Doe was, he probably assumed he was being robbed and tried to hand them his wallet. After doing what the wanted, the animals took it to make identification harder ~ and what the hell, if the guy was going to offer it to them they might as well use it.
Garret looked again at the box. He shook it slightly, wondering if it was a ring. There was a rattle that suggested it was probably a bracelet or a necklace. Something was hanging from whatever it was. His gut knotted when he heard the rattle, though he couldn't say why. Garret set the box aside to examine the rest of the jacket. He wasn't going to open the box ~ he'd leave that for the next of kin.
As his hands slid down the jacket, he felt something rectangular in the deeper and wider right inside pocket. A card. He reached into the pocket and pulled out a cream-colored envelope, the Hallmark seal on the back. Why was his gut tightening up? It was a card. That's all. He turned it over and felt sick when he saw the name on the front of the envelope. It fell from Garret's hand as he grabbed the counter for support, trying to steady his breathing.
"Why? Why the hell do you. . .?" He raged at God. It wasn't fair. How the hell was he going to explain this one. And how on earth could anyone expect. . . He knew he needed to tell Nigel to brace himself. He knew what the prints were going to reveal.
Garret picked up the card and walked down the hall, occasionally using it for support. He rounded the doorway into Nigel's office and found him sitting at the computer, his hand over an open mouth. His eyes in complete denial, refusing to see what was on the screen.
"Nigel, I. . ." Garret started.
"Oh my God. Garret, the prints just came back. Almost instantly. It's. . .it's. . ."
"I know." Garret sank into the chair next to Nigel.
. . .to be continued. . .
Disclaimer: Don't own 'em! They just use my head for a playground sometimes!!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
September 10, 2003. . .
Garret walked down the quiet hall of the morgue towards the office that Nigel shared with Bug. As expected, he found Nige sitting, working on something at his computer.
"Evening, Nigel."
"Oh, hey boss. I'm just working on. . ." Nigel turned the sound down and tried to cover the screen that displayed the random songs he was putting together for a CD he was going to burn for someone ~ he just hadn't figured out who yet.
"Nigel, it's ok. I'm bored too. Nice song, by the way. What was it?"
"Oh, it's just something by Nickel Creek."
"I never took you for a country fan, Nigel. But then I guess there are a lot of things we don't know about each other." Garret tried to get to know his staff, but other than Jordan, he felt like he hardly knew any of them. Well, Lily ~ but that was for other reasons entirely.
"Yeah. Is it me or is it quiet around here tonight?"
"It's quiet. Too quiet." Garret knew all too well what could happen when things got this quiet. They'd either fall asleep or chaos would take hold. He prayed that it was the former. There was enough stuff going on with Jordan in her usual pre-birthday funk. He knew it was to be expected, every year as her birthday approached, Jordan got testy and snappish. He understood why. Really he did. He just wished there was a way he could make it better. She was the baby sister he never had and watching her spiral down every year around this time tore his heart out.
"I know, mate. I wish I could help her out too." Somehow Nigel could always read his mind. Though it didn't take a keen observer to know that Jordan was not a happy camper. "You know, I wonder if our dear Woodrow has anything special planned for the special day."
"Nigel! Really. Do you think that they're. . ." The thought never occurred to Garret. He knew Woody was head over heels in love with Jordan, but she never seemed to think of him as more than a great friend. Good old platonic stuff.
"Bloody hell, no. But you know how he is."
"True. Oh my God." Garret paused, remembering a couple of weeks earlier when Woody had come into his office. . .
*****
"Garret? Do you have a minute?"
"Yeah, Woody. Come on in. What's up?"
"I wanted to talk with you about Jordan." Woody came in and closed the door behind him.
"Has she done. . .?" Garret was almost afraid to ask.
"No, no. Nothing like that. It's just, well, I know her birthday's coming up soon and I know it's not really a time of happy thoughts for her."
"Right. We're bracing for our annual round with 'Hurricane Jordan' as we lovingly refer to most of September around here."
"Well, I was thinking that I want to get her something special ~ not a lot, just something to. . ."
"Woody, I hope you're not thinking about a puppy. I've seen Jordan's plants and I don't think. . ."
"No, no. I saw a locket in a store the other day that was beautiful. I was thinking that maybe I could get a picture of everyone in the morgue ~ at least you, Bug, Nigel, Lily and Peter ~ and put that on one side, and get a picture of me, Eddie, and maybe a couple of other detectives she's worked with and put on the other side. And a picture of Max in the middle. Sort of a way for her to carry her 'family' with her?"
Garret just looked at the young man. What a great idea. He wondered why he'd never thought of it. Probably because he was always running damage control and trying to keep Jordan sane.
"What? Is it too corny? You don't think she'll like it?" Woody was concerned. He thought it was a great idea. He knew the pictures would have to be small, but still. . .
"No, I think it's a great idea." And Garret went about figuring out how to get the picture without Jordan finding out about it.
*****
"What? What's the. . ." Nigel paused, remembering the picture they'd taken. Garret, Peter, Bug, Lily and himself. But not Jordan. "He's planning to do something with the picture isn't he."
"Yeah. Something that we should have thought of years ago. But I guess we'll have to wait a week or so to see how it turned out." Garret was interrupted by the phone ringing. He leaned over and picked it up. "Medical Examiner's Office. . .Yes. . .Where?. . .How many?. . .Alright, we'll be right over."
"What was that?" Nigel figured they had a case, but. . .he didn't like the paleness on Garret's face.
"A body. Looks like a gang-related beating. Over in an alley near the Harbor." Garret couldn't put a finger on it, but he had a bad feeling in his gut about this one.
"Jeeze, those can be bloody awful."
"Yeah. No ID. Very little face to work with. They said it's brutal."
"Well, we're not making any headway sitting here. I'll grab my bags. Meet me at the elevator." Nigel felt Garret's uneasiness. Something about the ring of the phone hadn't felt right to either of them.
They got in the van and drove to the scene. Detective Carver met them at the police tape.
"Lois, what exactly do we have here?"
"It's brutal Garret. Looks like a gang jumping."
"You mean in or out?"
"Not sure, but probably not. Probably just random violence. No ID on the body. Looks like they took his wallet."
"His?"
"We're pretty sure the victim was male. We know the rules. . ."
"Yeah. Alright, you ready Nige?"
"Sure thing, boss."
"Alright Lois. Where's the body?"
Carver led them to the body. Garret thought he should be used to this by now, but the gang jumpings always got him. The cops on the scene had at least covered the body, but they could see bits of scalp scattered across the sidewalk, intermingled with small grey bits.
"Sweet Nancy." Nigel swallowed hard and looked away.
"I know, Nigel. I know. Come on. Let's do what we need to do." Garret slowly walked to the lump under the sheet. Body. Body. This had been a person. And Carver said that it was probably a random victim.
They pulled the sheet back. God, there was going to be no way to identify the person by dental records. Or anything other than hopefully prints. The face was gone, little more than a bloody pulp. The skull was crushed numerous times from repeated blows, bits of dark hair matted together with blood. Garret swallowed hard, then nodded to Nigel to take the necessary pictures, praying that the film in the camera was black and white. He began to do the basic run down of what he could tell there.
"Ok, this is definitely a male. Cause of death was most likely repeated severe blows to the head, probably with a pipe or bat or something similar. Based on rigor, I'd say he's been here a couple of hours. Probably happened right around dusk. Anything more I'll have to give you later." He nodded to Nigel who brought the body bag over. The uniformed officers helped get the body and as much of the surrounding pieces of skull that they could into the bag, and Nigel rolled the stretcher towards the van.
"I'll be in touch as soon as we know anything, Lois. Thanks."
"No, thank you Garret. These things always get to me. You'd think after all these years. . ."
"I understand." He gave Carver's arm a reassuring squeeze.
Nigel and Garret drove back to the morgue in silence. They'd seen this type of thing before, but what Carver had said was true. No matter how many times you saw it, the level of violence in these gang beatings got to you. More so when it appeared that the victim was an innocent bystander. A random victim of the gang's "wilding."
The autopsy itself didn't take long. Garret's assessment was obviously correct. A few wood fragments confirmed that at least some of the blows had been inflicted by a baseball bat. He knew the odds of finding it were slim to none. That close to the harbor, everything would have been dumped. He could only guess why the body had been left in the alley. Probably the gang was interrupted by some noise and just ran. Odds were this would be unsolved for a long time. He assumed gang, but it could just as easily be mob. Granted they were usually a little cleaner about getting rid of the body, but anything was possible.
Nigel took prints, thanking God that whoever did this didn't dip the hands in acid or in some other way mutilate the fingers making print identification impossible. That's what told him it was probably gang- related. Gang or incompetent mob ~ but probably gang. Prints were their only chance for an identification. He didn't care how good the forensic facial reconstructionist was, no one could put this skull back together and get anything from it. He walked down the hall to input the prints while Garret slid the body into one of the lockers and began to fold the clothes neatly to be placed into a bag for the next of kin once the id was made.
Garret was always methodical and reverent with the personal effects of the bodies that came into the morgue. These had been people with lives and people who loved them. Even the John and Jane Does that came in were someone's child, someone's friend. Shoes went into the bag first. Basic, non-descript Reeboks. The socks he balled up and set next to the shoes. Underwear ~ he knew it seemed strange, but you never knew what the loved ones would want. Then the pants. Button-fly Levi's. He checked quickly, but there was nothing in the pockets. The shirt. A nice, button down blue Oxford, sleeves still rolled up. Again, the pocket yielded nothing.
Last, Garret reached for the light jacket. As he picked it up, he noticed that it hung lower to the left side, so he looked closer. There was an inside pocket. How had the cops missed this? Oh yeah, the "don't touch the body until the ME gets there" rule. Well, maybe this would provide some help. He reached in the pocket and pulled out a small box with a purple bow tied around it. A jewelry box. How had the perpetrators missed this. Unless it wasn't really a robbery. Whoever John Doe was, he probably assumed he was being robbed and tried to hand them his wallet. After doing what the wanted, the animals took it to make identification harder ~ and what the hell, if the guy was going to offer it to them they might as well use it.
Garret looked again at the box. He shook it slightly, wondering if it was a ring. There was a rattle that suggested it was probably a bracelet or a necklace. Something was hanging from whatever it was. His gut knotted when he heard the rattle, though he couldn't say why. Garret set the box aside to examine the rest of the jacket. He wasn't going to open the box ~ he'd leave that for the next of kin.
As his hands slid down the jacket, he felt something rectangular in the deeper and wider right inside pocket. A card. He reached into the pocket and pulled out a cream-colored envelope, the Hallmark seal on the back. Why was his gut tightening up? It was a card. That's all. He turned it over and felt sick when he saw the name on the front of the envelope. It fell from Garret's hand as he grabbed the counter for support, trying to steady his breathing.
"Why? Why the hell do you. . .?" He raged at God. It wasn't fair. How the hell was he going to explain this one. And how on earth could anyone expect. . . He knew he needed to tell Nigel to brace himself. He knew what the prints were going to reveal.
Garret picked up the card and walked down the hall, occasionally using it for support. He rounded the doorway into Nigel's office and found him sitting at the computer, his hand over an open mouth. His eyes in complete denial, refusing to see what was on the screen.
"Nigel, I. . ." Garret started.
"Oh my God. Garret, the prints just came back. Almost instantly. It's. . .it's. . ."
"I know." Garret sank into the chair next to Nigel.
. . .to be continued. . .
