Chapter 4: Form
The two weeks in the middle of May were tense ones for both the precinct and the morgue. A series of bank robberies had struck the downtown Boston area. The robberies as such weren't unusual in themselves. Robberies were accepted fact in police precincts in large cities around the world. It was the fact that there had been four in the past two weeks. And at each one, the robbers had lingered long enough for law enforcement to show up. A showdown occurred each time. Then, just as things started resolve, shots rang out, and not from the police officers. It happened so quickly, and the sniper was so well hidden that there was no time to return fire. At the first robbery, two officers had been killed, and two wounded. At the second, three had been killed. The third: one dead and three wounded. And the fourth, fortunately, no deaths, but four had been wounded, one in critical condition. And there was no one to hold accountable. In all four instances, the chaos caused by the injured officers had allowed the bank robbers to escape.
After the second robbery, the homicide division became officially involved. Woody and Santana hand been assigned the case, and they were working together with the crime sergeant and his team. Pressure had been put on both the morgue and the crime lab to determine the angle of entry and the type of bullets used. So much pressure, in fact, that Garret now spent his days merely reviewing the evidence and answering the questions of the press and the D.A. Jordan had done the autopsies, and, with Nigel and Bug's help, determined that high caliber bullets had been used, and the shooter was likely on the second floor of a building not more than 100 feet from the scene.
Nigel, with his extensive – and probably not all book-learned – knowledge of ballistics had managed to identify the striations on the bullet, comparing them to typical striations of certain models, as well as the type of gunpowder used. Woody and Santana had used that information to question local gun manufacturers and retailers. Knowing the case involved the killing of cops, Woody was more determined than ever. By the third robbery, he had reported to the scene almost as soon as it was called in. One of the officers killed that day had been a friend of his, one of his workout partners, who still worked the streets as a beat cop. At the fourth scene, he had responded to the call early, and the critically injured officer was a woman who was part of the crime squad that was investigating the robberies. A woman who was married and had a four-year-old son. So now, it was even more personal.
Jordan knew that he and some of the other detectives spent most of their time at the morgue, waiting for the ballistics and autopsy results. They set up shop and made their calls from the conference room. A board had been set up, full of crime photos and scribbled notes, analyzing the scene and the events. The choice of location for their 'headquarters' was logical in another way: the press had virtually set up camp outside the precinct. And having been on TV at the press conferences, Woody and his team was readily recognizable. They couldn't go into the building without creating a clamor. So they spent their days here, whenever they weren't running down leads. And so Jordan knew he didn't go home often. If he did, it was only to pick up a change of clothes or two and take a shower.
They were all stressed and running on very little sleep, all hoping to day would be the day that they solved the case, but no one felt any particular apprehension when May 26 dawned. It started like all the others. Woody and his team were in the conference room, discussing any changes or new leads since they all last met 12 hours ago. Garret and Walcott were reviewing press inquiries. As for Jordan, Nigel, Bug and Lily, they had their own hands full processing the evidence for the case as well as keeping the day-to-day morgue operations going. People were still dying in other ways, other crimes were being committed.
It was just after 2:00 when the call came in. Jordan was in her office, filling out the death certificate for a man who had collapsed in and been found in the bathroom of his office. The man had died of a heart attack. And at precisely 2:09, Nigel knocked at her open doorway, drawing her attention.
"Jordan?"
"Yeah? What's up, Nige?"
"There's been another robbery." He didn't have to say more.
Jordan felt her heart lurch. Woody wasn't in the office right now. Hadn't been for the last three hours. She knew because there was a window between her office and the conference room next door, and quick glance confirmed her knowledge. For Jordan, it was both pain and pleasure having Woody so close. Physically, he was near, and she always felt relieved to be able to look at him, to know he was safe. But he had been stressed these last two weeks, even more distant than he had in the seven weeks before. Her heart ached for him, knowing that, even though they weren't close like they were before, he wasn't happy, wasn't healthy. "Woody?" she asked Nigel quietly.
"He's fine," he said on a breath. "Already down at the crime scene, I'd wager. And they wouldn't be calling us in unless the scene was safe… But we've got another body. One of the patrol officers who responded to the call was killed. Walcott's already got wind of it, and she wants you and me to head out."
Jordan nodded, saddened by the news of another officer killed in the line of duty. Having grown up around cops, working so closely with them, loving one – she admitted that to herself now – knowing another had been killed in the line of duty wrenched her heart. Adding her signature to the form she had been filling out, she grabbed her coat. "Come on, let's go. I'll drop this off with Lily on my way out. Why don't you go get the van."
