Piano Man
Chapter 2: Meet Mr. Olger
A/N: Hey out there! Sorry it's been awhile! I dunno if anyone really cares if its been awhile, but here it is anyway. Please R&R!!!!
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* 18-8-2003 10:25 am New York City Theatre
Detective Goren snapped on latex glove and opened the grand piano's lid as Eames winced at the site of the bloodied body.
"Head damage," he observed, and then paused. "Scratched on the side of the piano there. Wedged his head in and slammed the lid shut would be my guess." Goren ran his fingers over the marks. There were dents filled with blood.
"Poor guy," Eames sympathised. She picked up his hand and studied it. "He even has a musician's hand. Looks like he's never done a hard days work," she said putting it back down. Goren went to the opposite side of the piano.
"That's not true. I've heard touring can be pretty tough," he said. Eames rolled her eyes.
"No I mean as in.never mind. Any signs of a struggle?" she asked. Goren looked on the floor. More blood and a soaked piece of material. Goren retrieved it and held it to the victim's clothes. It was a different pattern.
"Must have torn it of the purp," Eames said inspecting it. Goren bagged it and walked around the entire piano. He didn't want to miss one detail. He sat on the stool and looked at the keys. He imagined himself as Luc. Eames stood by and tried to picture it.
"He must have been sitting here already. The purp wouldn't have dragged him out here to murder him. There are far too many objects to do it with in the wings," Goren said, looking behind the curtains. He saw all the ropes and metal poles. Eames walked over and sat down beside him. They sat in silence for a while; neither of them could come up with anything. They heard a man yelling behind them.
"Whah the? Oh my god! What happened?" the man staggered onto the stage, grief stricken. The detectives looked at each other. He looked angrily at them. "What the hell happened here?" he demanded.
"Luc was murdered last night," Eames said.
"Do you know anything?" Goren asked. The man wiped his eyes and shook his head.
"He was my friend. We toured together," he stammered between sobs.
"And you are-?" Goren asked.
"Yannis Olger. I duet with Luc. We have 5 shows until we back to Paris," he said, shaking his head. "His mother will be devastated." Tristan, his manager, came out and took Yannis back to the dressing rooms, then returned.
"I am Tristan, their manager. We've been based in London for awhile. Luc was good pianist. He was from France and Yannis from Germany."
"Do you know what happened?" Goren asked Tristan. He shook his head.
"Maybe one of the crew knows. I think most of them only speak French. I am a tad rusty on mine."
"Est-ce que quelqu'un a vu ou a entendu ce qui s'est produit?" Eames yelled to his crew. Everybody shook their heads.
"Nobody saw anything," Eames said to Goren, who had an expression of amazement. "Thanks for your time Tristan," she said, ending the questions. They walked off the stage and out to the car park.
"I didn't know you could speak French," Goren said. She was just full off surprises. She shrugged as she unlocked the car.
"I did french in high school. One of my many hidden talents," she said smiling. "So we'll take that material to the lab and have it checked," she clarified what they were going to do when they got back to the office.
~*~*~*~*~*~*
"This piece of material is finely woven wool, best money can buy. I'd say whoever did it was pretty well off," the forensic expert started. "Other than that, there isn't much I can tell you."
"Do we have an autopsy report yet?" Eames asked. The expert nodded.
"I received it an hour ago. Serious head injuries, shattered skull and broken foot. Other than that, he was in good health," she said handing over her report and the autopsy report to Eames. The two detectives went back to their desk and looked through the papers.
"Luc Kilburn. 25 years old. His father was Claude Kilburn. Music must run in the family," Eames said as she read his profile.
"So he was murdered, stashed in his piano, and only a little piece of wool was found. This doesn't help," Goren said analysing the situation in which they found themselves.
"There has to be a reason. We should talk to Yannis more."
A/N: Hey out there! Sorry it's been awhile! I dunno if anyone really cares if its been awhile, but here it is anyway. Please R&R!!!!
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* 18-8-2003 10:25 am New York City Theatre
Detective Goren snapped on latex glove and opened the grand piano's lid as Eames winced at the site of the bloodied body.
"Head damage," he observed, and then paused. "Scratched on the side of the piano there. Wedged his head in and slammed the lid shut would be my guess." Goren ran his fingers over the marks. There were dents filled with blood.
"Poor guy," Eames sympathised. She picked up his hand and studied it. "He even has a musician's hand. Looks like he's never done a hard days work," she said putting it back down. Goren went to the opposite side of the piano.
"That's not true. I've heard touring can be pretty tough," he said. Eames rolled her eyes.
"No I mean as in.never mind. Any signs of a struggle?" she asked. Goren looked on the floor. More blood and a soaked piece of material. Goren retrieved it and held it to the victim's clothes. It was a different pattern.
"Must have torn it of the purp," Eames said inspecting it. Goren bagged it and walked around the entire piano. He didn't want to miss one detail. He sat on the stool and looked at the keys. He imagined himself as Luc. Eames stood by and tried to picture it.
"He must have been sitting here already. The purp wouldn't have dragged him out here to murder him. There are far too many objects to do it with in the wings," Goren said, looking behind the curtains. He saw all the ropes and metal poles. Eames walked over and sat down beside him. They sat in silence for a while; neither of them could come up with anything. They heard a man yelling behind them.
"Whah the? Oh my god! What happened?" the man staggered onto the stage, grief stricken. The detectives looked at each other. He looked angrily at them. "What the hell happened here?" he demanded.
"Luc was murdered last night," Eames said.
"Do you know anything?" Goren asked. The man wiped his eyes and shook his head.
"He was my friend. We toured together," he stammered between sobs.
"And you are-?" Goren asked.
"Yannis Olger. I duet with Luc. We have 5 shows until we back to Paris," he said, shaking his head. "His mother will be devastated." Tristan, his manager, came out and took Yannis back to the dressing rooms, then returned.
"I am Tristan, their manager. We've been based in London for awhile. Luc was good pianist. He was from France and Yannis from Germany."
"Do you know what happened?" Goren asked Tristan. He shook his head.
"Maybe one of the crew knows. I think most of them only speak French. I am a tad rusty on mine."
"Est-ce que quelqu'un a vu ou a entendu ce qui s'est produit?" Eames yelled to his crew. Everybody shook their heads.
"Nobody saw anything," Eames said to Goren, who had an expression of amazement. "Thanks for your time Tristan," she said, ending the questions. They walked off the stage and out to the car park.
"I didn't know you could speak French," Goren said. She was just full off surprises. She shrugged as she unlocked the car.
"I did french in high school. One of my many hidden talents," she said smiling. "So we'll take that material to the lab and have it checked," she clarified what they were going to do when they got back to the office.
~*~*~*~*~*~*
"This piece of material is finely woven wool, best money can buy. I'd say whoever did it was pretty well off," the forensic expert started. "Other than that, there isn't much I can tell you."
"Do we have an autopsy report yet?" Eames asked. The expert nodded.
"I received it an hour ago. Serious head injuries, shattered skull and broken foot. Other than that, he was in good health," she said handing over her report and the autopsy report to Eames. The two detectives went back to their desk and looked through the papers.
"Luc Kilburn. 25 years old. His father was Claude Kilburn. Music must run in the family," Eames said as she read his profile.
"So he was murdered, stashed in his piano, and only a little piece of wool was found. This doesn't help," Goren said analysing the situation in which they found themselves.
"There has to be a reason. We should talk to Yannis more."