Island Noire: Death at Dawn
Chapter 1- Ring around the Rosie
One surprise after another. Vice mused. Always something new.
In addition to not preparing him for his "profession", the fedora also failed to inform Vice that he had his own car –a sleek, blue and white Studebaker Commander - and a partner.
Andy Martin was a middle age man, looking no more than thirty, with a narrow face, high cheekbones, blue eyes, a strong chin, and a smile that could charm women from fifty yards. Overall, he could give James Cassidy a run for his money. He had explained, with some confusion, to Vice that he had been his partner for a little over five years. Vice, he had said, was one of the senior investigators and had been for the past ten years.
Andy, thankfully, drove to the crime scene. Not that Vice couldn't drive, he had had to learn in order to better observe some of the time periods he had seen, but after being on the island where only dinosaurs were "driven" his automotive skills were probably rusty at best.
Another thing the fedora had not prepared him for, but his partner had hinted at, was his popularity. Every officer and detective in the precinct seemed to know him and his "grand reputation." Even when Andy pulled up to the scene of the crime, officers would tip their hats and nod in respect, asking how he was and how soon he thought he would have this case "in the bag". Vice answered as good naturedly as he could, trying his hardest not to shout out to everyone "WHO THE BLOODY HELL ARE YOU?!" Vice almost felt relieved when he finally got though the sea of reporters, crime scene tape, and line of officers, and saw the body. Nobody was around, save for a man who Vice could only assume was the corner, based on how he was meticulously examining the victim's body.
The coroner looked up and smiled politely when he saw them approaching.
"Detectives." He greeted.
Vice nodded and the coroner jumped right into his evaluation, not waiting for any return greeting or questions.
"Well, the woman fell from the balcony up there." He pointed. "But, this isn't being ruled as a suicide for two reasons." The coroner motioned for Vice to crouch next to him. "There's a bruise on her head, probably from a fist based on the size of the shiner, and this," He traced several blue-purple finger impressions that wrapped around the woman's throat, ignoring the diamond necklace. "Tells me she was strangled before she fell...or even thrown if I may assume, not to mention the necklace wasn't stolen either."
Vice digested the information, trying not to wince. The corner was touching the body without gloves on. 1940's coroners clearly didn't know about evidence contamination or sanitary codes.
"Were there any witnesses? Did any of the neighbors hear or see anything before Ms. Andrea Taylor here tried to follow Peter Pan?" Andy joked.
The coroner shrugged. "I just look at the bodies. If you want to know about living witnesses, talk to Bishop."
Andy gave a thumbs up, "I'll go talk with him then. You can go ahead and take a look around the place without me, Vice."
Vice nodded, once more feeling a sense of relief since he didn't have to attempt to figure out who "Bishop" was. He pointed to the marks on Andrea's neck. "Will you be able to tell me anything about these? Specifically which hand was used to strangle her?"
The coroner turned the woman's head from side to side, her neck made a cracking sound which made Vice wince. "Left. Your perpetrator was left handed."
Vice thanked the man and stood. The coroner got up with him and walked away.
"Everything in the house is as it was at the time of the incident, Detective. The boys and I didn't let any of those newsies even sniff the place." He called back, still walking and not stopping to wait for a reply.
Now alone, Vice looked at the house. It was a modest double story home with white walls and dark green trim. The french front doors were unlocked. Vice entered and admired the neat sitting room. It was entirely spotless. The huge bookshelves, the couch, the small television, and the rug didn't have a speck of dust on them. The adjoining room, the kitchen, was just as clean. The only "dirty" thing being a vase full of red roses.
Vice touched the petals, they were soft and smooth. They were fresh, new, and bought from Flora's Flowers as the tag around one of the roses read. Curious, Vice left the kitchen and ascended the stairs to the second floor. There were four rooms on the second floor. A guest room and the guest bathroom, a small library room, and the master bedroom. Out of all the rooms, however, only the master bedroom seemed to be messy. Vice stepped inside and scanned the entire room. The bed wasn't made and different clothing items were strewn about on the floor. The connected master bathroom was just as messy, drawers were open and toiletries were scattered around the counter. The only forms of organization was the dresser, lined with jewelry boxes and stands and the closed closet door.
Andrea must have been in a hurry...but why?
Vice looked through one of the jewelry boxes, feeling slightly intrusive. Nothing immediately stood out. He picked up one of the diamond rings and moved to the light, inspected it, and squinted. He went back and picked up another diamond ring, inspecting it the same way; the diamonds were fake. Vice frowned and examined a small pearl necklace. Trying an old trick, he rubbed the pearl against his teeth lightly. The surface was smooth, not grainy. The pearls were fake as well.
"A house like this, a necklace like that, jewelry like this, and roses." Vice listed. "I have to be missing something here."
He turned to the unmade bed and tried not to grimace as he moved the sheets and comforter around. Nothing. He tried to put everything back just as it was, hoping he didn't accidentally mess up something that could have helped him. He backed away from the bed and went to look in the closet, but something caught his eye. He reached down, picked up a shinning square from the floor at the corner of the bed, and put the object in his palm.
A cuff link? Vice thought, astonished, but pleased. A date gone wrong, perhaps?
He put the cuff link on the bureau and moved to the closet. He opened it and found that most of the hangers had been stripped, some more forcefully than others as they had fallen to the floor. Vice looked further into the closet and noticed a suitcase in the back. He pulls it out and lays it on its side. Opening it, Vice noted how the clothes looked hastily thrown in and looked through the messy case. Dresses, socks...underthings...a crinkling sound? Vice pulled a slip of paper from between the folds of a calico dress.
"I will be the sun for you, my rose." He read. "I'll see you soon."
Vice left the suitcase on the floor and placed the note next to the cuff link. "Who were you seeing?"
"Vice!"
Vice jumped. "Yes?"
Andy appeared in the doorway, "I spoke with Bishop, there were two witnesses. It's a couple, actually, a Mr. and Mrs. Schultz. They were Andrea's neighbors."
"Lead on." Vice said.
He followed Andy out of the house, pulling an officer aside before they reached the couple. "Tell Evidence to grab the note and cuff link I found in the master bedroom."
The officer nodded and rushed off.
The couple Andy lead Vice to was a young one, the both of them probably no older than twenty-five. The wife looked nervous and her husband was holding her hand, their heads were bent in conversation.
"Vice, this is Diana and Kenneth Schultz. They were the ones who reported this." Andy introduced. Kenneth and Diana immediately stopped their conversation and looked up; Diana still looked nervous.
Well, at least my time on The Island improved my improvised conversational skills. Vice mused.
"Hello to you both." He greeted. "Now, I'm just going to ask the both of you some standard questions. If you could answer them honestly, it would be a great help."
Diana looked to her husband and then back at Vice. "We'll try and answer as best we can, Detective." Her husband affirmed the same.
"How did you come to find Ms. Taylor?" Vice started. Easy enough to answer. Should a least ease a bit of Mrs. Diana's tension.
"I'm the one who found Andrea." Diana answered. "I was out walking our dog, Lola, and I...I saw her lying on her driveway. At first I thought it was just strange, so I went to take a closer look...make sure she was okay. When I got closer...I saw her eyes just, just...staring...and..."
"And then what?" Vice pressed gently.
Kenneth wrapped his arm around her shoulder when she teared up and didn't continue. "Diana came running back to the house and she called the police. Then we waited in the house until the officers came." He finished for her.
Andy reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a hankie. He held it out to Diana and she took it gratefully.
"I'm sorry." She said in a near whisper. "This is just all so much..."
"No need to apologize." Vice comforted. "You are doing wonderfully. You saw something that would haunt even the bravest of souls."
Diana gave a small smile and leaned against her husband's side.
"Now, did either of you notice anything strange the day before you found Ms. Taylor?"
Diana thought a moment. "No...nothing comes to mind."
"Actually, I remember seeing something." Kenneth said. "Someone drove her home; a man. It was late and I was up watching T.V.; Diana had already gone to bed. Andrea normally takes the bus, she doesn't...didn't...have a car."
"Did they appear to be upset or aggressive towards each other?"
Kenneth shook his head. "No, opposite actually. They both looked real happy, gentleman was even holding flowers...roses, I think."
"Do you know what car it was? A license plate number, perhaps?"
"It was a white car. That's all I know. It was too dark to see the exact model or license plate. Sorry, Detective."
Vice shook his head. "Again, no need to apologize. Any information is good information."
Andy nodded in agreement. "Anything you give us helps, no matter what it is, even everyday routines are helpful."
"Speaking of which, do you know if Ms. Taylor was employed?" Vice asked. "Or, did she have a place she frequented?"
"She worked for Pierce Corporation. She was Damon Pierce's personal secretary." Diana said. "She and I had lunch when she got off work early. She seemed very happy with her position; said that the pay was better than any other job she had had in the past."
"Do you know the address, by chance?"
"Yes, it's 1986 Martivao Street. It's the tallest building on the block, you can't miss it." She said.
Vice nodded and smiled. "Thank you so much for your assistance Mr. And Mrs. Schultz."
Andy handed the couple a card. "If you remember anything else, you can always give us a ring."
Kenneth took it. "Will do, Detectives. I hope you find whoever did this. Andrea was a nice lady. I'm surprised anyone would ever do this to her."
With his arm still around her shoulder, Kenneth turned and walked back to their house. An officer at the tape escorted them pass the press who were still eagerly asking questions and taking photos.
Andy and Vice walked toward their car. The newsies quickly turned their attention from the silent couple to the two detectives, mobbing around them and screaming questions.
"Should the neighborhood worry about the murderer still being in the area?!"
"Detective?! How was Andrea Taylor murdered?!"
"This way, Detective! How long will- Who do you think- When will-" The voices all mixed together as the reporters pushed and shoved each other for a statement.
"At this point in time, we have no statements to give." Vice said, frustrated. Can't these people have a little more respect? Even the Islanders had more respect...as shady as some of them where...
However, just by saying that there was going to be no statement, the gaggle of reporters went into a frenzy, shouting their questions even louder and more fervently. One even went so far as to grab Vice by the shoulder. Vice pulled himself out of the reporters grip and prepared for conflict, but Andy saved him by pulling him into the car.
"Holy Hell!" He said, turning the key. The engine purred to life and he slowly maneuvered out of the sea of newsies. "For a second there, I thought I was going to have to break a few noses to get you outta there."
"Is the press always this tempestuous?"
Andy shook his head. "They get excited, but never this excited, but it's probably because that neighborhood has never had a murder before. Bishop told me that they've never even had a robbery. It was one of the safest neighborhoods around."
"That would make for a good story, I suppose."
Andy nodded and laughed. "You're not goin' senile on me, are you Vice? You've been asking me strange questions all day. Not to mention the fact that you haven't pulled that notebook of yours out of your breast pocket the entire time."
"My...notebook, right."Vice stumbled, quickly reaching into his breast pocket and finding the said notebook. "I think I'm getting too old for this." Vice said, hoping he sounded like he was joking.
If he hadn't, Andy gave no sign. He just flashed a smile and drove on. "We headed to Pierce Corp.?"
"That would probably be best." Vice said, scribbling notes into the notebook. Once he finished listing evidence and summarizing the information they had found out from the Schultz couple, Vice thumbed through the notebook. Countless pages had been filled from front to back with notes. All of them listing evidence, citing witnesses, listing suspects, or addresses, and every last word was written in his handwriting.
Vice sighed mentally. I really am getting too old for this.
