The Other Path

Chapter 44

"How's the outline coming?" Kate asks, leaning over Rick's shoulder.

"I've got the first half or so done, but we still don't know how things will work out for Luke – or Samuel, as I'm calling the character I'm basing on him."

Kate sighs. "It won't be good. He's not only up for murder, but he crossed state lines to commit a crime. That brings the DOJ into it. Unless Belvedere can pull 20 rabbits out of his hat, Luke will spend the rest of his life in prison. He might even be in line for execution."

Rick reaches for Kate's hand. "I take it you don't see that as justice."

"I don't," Kate admits. "Joe Menkin was an immoral bastard. He was willing to rob his own family for political purposes. Who knows how many miners died or will die because of him. And he's making a buck off pumping poison into the air. Luke shouldn't have had the opportunity to kill him. Menkin should have been in jail. And Luke was doing what his country taught him to do, kill someone endangering the helpless. That should count for something."

Rick draws Kate against his side. "I suspect that Belvedere will make that point."

"He can only take that argument so far. Even with minimum sentences, Luke isn't getting out. Nailing the Lukes of the world isn't why I became a cop."

Pushing out of his chair, Rick takes Kate in his arms. "So, what do you want to do?"

"Go back to getting justice for innocent victims and bringing some measure of peace to families."

"You brought justice to Marion, and she'll be able to take care of Petal and Violette now."

"But the asses who supported Menkin to power are already claiming that Marion's vindication is the result of a mass conspiracy. Even when Luke is convicted, she'll always have a cloud over her head."

"Politics often trumps justice, Kate. That point will be the focus of my book. But you already knew that. Your mother spent her too-short life fighting for justice against the system. Your father does the same thing against corporate power."

"And I should fight it too."

"You want to go to law school?"

"No. At this point, I'd be spending too many years without getting anything done. But the Homicide Squad is influenced way too much by that system. The big cases are usually about politics, big money, or both. Otherwise, they wouldn't be big cases."

"So you want to quit the Squad?"

"It's just getting clear in my mind. But I think I do."

"Simmons isn't going to like it much," Rick opines. "More than ever, you're his star player. Solving Menkin's murder dominated the news cycle for days. He could make the move hard for you."

"Not making the move would be harder. I'm going to talk to him in the morning."

"On the upside, much as Gates will scowl at any increase in my presence, she'll be glad to have her MVD back full time."

"MVD?"

"Most valuable detective."


Rick drops into his comfortably worn chair next to Kate's desk. "How's it going?"

"I've gotten a few weird looks. Karpowski came right out and asked me why I would throw away a chance that few detectives, let alone female detectives, get. But things are settling down. I'm a little surprised you're here. You seemed to be pretty deep into your new project."

"I reached a stopping point. I need to do more research on the intricacies of dirty politics. A book at the main library may help me with that. And I figured if I was going to tear myself away from my keyboard, seeing you was an even better reason than picking up a book. And the librarian is a very old friend, like from when I was ten. She put the reference aside for me. I can pick it up whenever I make it to her desk. So, no new dead bodies?"

"Not yet, but…."

"Hey, Beckett!" Esposito yells across the bullpen. "One just dropped."

Rick grins. "Sounds like you're back in harness, and I'm not about to horn in on this special moment. I'll go pick up my book. You can give me all the bloody details later." Rick leans over the desk for a quick peck. "Be good at school."


"What have we got, Lanie?" Kate queries.

The ME turns from the body. "Good to see you on this one, Girlfriend. Whoever did this is seriously crazy."

"Do you have an ID on the victim?"

"Her name is Sherrie Green. Her roommate, Chelsea Lewis, came in after a night out and found her like this. She's with the paramedics. She couldn't stop being sick. After ten years at this, this one turned my stomach too. The killer used a knife, maybe more than one. But he didn't just stab Sherrie. He butchered her."

"What do you mean?"

"Have you ever seen one of those charts in a cookbook identifying the different cuts of meat? It looks like he cut along the dotted lines."

Kate crouches down to take a look. "God! This is twisted. But how do you know the killer is a male?"

"I don't know for sure yet. I'm hoping to get some DNA off Sherrie's body or that CSU will come up with something. Still, the wounds are clean. There are none of the rough edges a sawing motion would leave. That took a lot of strength. Either it was a guy or a candidate for Ms. Universe."

"What was the TOD?"

"Between two and four this morning."

"Did the killer move the body?"

"Other than to cut it up? No signs that he did. Why?"

"Because most people are asleep at that hour. It looks like Sherrie was at her desk, and the killer grabbed her out of her chair." Checking her gloves are tight, Kate takes Sherrie's computer out of sleep mode. "There's a blank document here. Either Sherrie never got a chance to write anything, or the killer deleted what she wrote. I'll have Tech take a look. You think Chelsea will be in any condition to talk to me?"

"You can try. But take it easy on her," Lanie cautions. "She's in bad shape."

Kate nods. "I hear you."


"I'll tell you whatever I can, Detective," Chelsea agrees, sitting shakily on the steps of the building housing her apartment. "But all I remember is seeing Sherrie like that. I guess I called 911, but everything is fuzzy like I'm watching an out-of-focus movie."

"That's all right," Kate assures the pale woman. "Let's just take it one step at a time. When did you get home this morning?"

"Around nine, I guess. I stopped at the Java Hut two blocks away and checked the time. It was a quarter of. It probably took me about fifteen minutes to get here."

Kate nods. "That's good. OK. And what happened then? Did you unlock the door to your apartment?"

Chelsea looks puzzled. "No. I had my keys out from unlocking the door to the building. But I didn't have to turn the key up there. The door was already unlocked."

"Was it open?" Kate asks.

"No, just unlocked. I remember now that I thought that was strange. Sherrie was obsessive about keeping the door locked. She'd yell at me if I didn't lock it when I just went down for the mail. It's a bar in the floor lock. It's supposed to be break-in proof. But you can't set it to latch automatically. You have to do it with a key. That's kind of a pain in the neck."

"So," Kate realizes, "either Sherrie let the killer in, or he had a key."