Chapter 3 – A new spin, caused by a rotating camera

Dinner tasted like sawdust. Now, Shawn was pretty sure that it wasn't his Dad's fault. He guessed that under any other circumstances, the steak would taste great, as would the potatoes and the beans. But tonight, his heart simply wasn't in it. If he didn't pay close attention to what it was that he put in his mouth, he had difficulties telling the different parts of dinner apart.

All the while, he was mulling over and over in his head what the deal about Eric was. And, more importantly, how he could manage to find the boy's father with the little information he had.

"All right, what's going on?"

Upon hearing his father's voice, Shawn looked up with a surprised frown on his face.

"What do you mean?"

Henry levelled one of his patented glares at Shawn, then he shook his head and piled some more beans onto his plate.

"For the past ten minutes, you've been staring down at your plate as if you expect the steak to jump at you any moment now. Normally, you're acting like a starving wolf when somebody puts any kind of food in front of you. Not to mention that normally even a mouthful of food doesn't stop you from talking non-stop."

Shawn sighed and poked around his plate with his fork. "It's not about the food."

"A case?"

Was it a case? Shawn wasn't really sure. Not that it mattered all that much right now, come to think of it. Case or not, it was bugging him.

"Kind of."

Henry raised an eyebrow. "Kind of. Want to run it by me?"

"Geez Dad, anybody ever tell you about client confidentiality?"

Henry smiled. "It hasn't stopped you from telling me about cases before."

Shawn put his fork down, finally accepting the fact that he wouldn't get another bite down tonight.

"There's nothing to really run by you, but I do have a question."

Henry speared the last piece of his steak and waved the fork at Shawn. "All right. Shoot."

"How would you go on about tracking somebody?"

Chewing the steak, Henry thought for a moment. "Well, it depends on what information and resources you have. Normally, running a name through the police computers should do the trick. There you'll either find criminal records or the data from the registration offices."

"And what if I tell you that I don't have a last name to search for?"

Henry shrugged. "Then things get difficult. If you only have the first name and no further information, I'd say it's highly unlikely you'll find whoever you're searching for. So what have you got?"

"A first name. And I know that he probably was in the Army twelve years back, stationed in Phoenix, Arizona. Moved to Santa Barbara a bit later, also around twelve years back. That's all."

Henry finished his dinner and started cleaning away the plates. "Well, if he was in the Army, that's good news. The Military has files for everything, and they never throw anything out. So if the person you're searching for was re-stationed from Phoenix to Santa Barbara, you should be able to find out. Also if he quit. But that still depends on the name. If the guy you're searching for is named "John", you'll have a lot of files to go through."

Shawn sighed. "The name is Collin."

"Not quite as bad as John, but not exactly rare, either. Beer?"

Shawn shook his head. "No thanks, I got here on the bike. So, how do I get into the Army files?"

Henry chuckled. "Probably not at all. If it were tied to a criminal case, the police could ask for the files. Normally, administrative assistance at this level isn't a problem. But if you have no official reason to be looking into this, I doubt that the Army would just let you search through their stuff."

Shawn sighed. "I figured as much. Well, I only need to find a way to convince the Chief to ask the Army for a look into their files."

A deep frown settled on Henry's face. "Watch out what you're doing, Shawn. It's one thing to use your little psychic show to lead the police onto the right path in their investigations. Using your rapport with them to help you in your private cases is another matter entirely. I know Karen, if she gets wind of what you're doing, she'll be pretty mad. And believe me that you don't want that to happen."

"I guess."

Shawn got up and grabbed another soda from the fridge. He opened it and leaned against the counter, staring down at the floor. Henry watched him silently for a few moments, arms crossed in front of his chest.

"All right, what is this really about?"

Shawn sighed. "A kid."

"A kid? What kid?"

"A kid who asked me to help him find his father."

Henry shook his head in disbelief. "I hope you are aware that you can't take cases from clients who aren't of age. If that comes out, your agency will be closed faster than you can say "smoothie", you know that, don't you?"

"It isn't a case, Dad. Listen, it's a bit complicated, but basically I caught a kid in the office burgling our fridge. We got talking, he ran away when I asked more detailed questions about him, but today he came back and asked me to help him find his Dad."

"Where is he now?"

Shawn pushed himself off the counter and walked back to his chair. "I don't know", he said as he sat down. "We seem to settle into a rhythm of talking and running. He took off earlier, said he'd be in contact."

"How old?"

"Eleven, closing in on twelve."

"What's his story?"

Shawn shrugged. "He wasn't exactly open about that. I'm fairly sure he's a runaway."

"And you didn't call the police?", Henry asked, his voice rising. "Shawn, if he ran away his parents are probably searching for him. They have to be worried sick!"

Shawn shook his head. "And what was I supposed to say? Lassie, there's a runaway somewhere here in Santa Barbara? I'll give you a cookie if you find him? Even I don't know where he is, so far he always sought me out. Besides, he didn't seem all too keen on going home again."

"Runaways generally aren't. In most cases, they're wrong. You should know."

Shawn rolled his eyes. "You're not bringing that up, Dad, are you? That was a totally different thing."

Henry raised both eyebrows. "Really? And now tell me what exactly was different about it. Had I missed you at Gus' place, you'd have taken off to God only knows where, without anybody knowing where you were, or whether you were all right. And you weren't too keen on being brought home again, either, despite the fact that your home wasn't exactly hell on earth."

"Sure seemed like it to me."

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

Shawn raised his hands in desperation. "Dad, I was ten. Things have a totally different perspective when you're that age. And for as long as I don't know what Eric's story is, I'm going to take his fear of having to go home seriously. Kids normally don't run away without a reason."

"Yes, but sometimes a kid's reason for running away seems ridiculous from an adult perspective", Henry snapped back.

"Doesn't mean it's not a serious reason for the kid in question!"

Henry sighed. "Are we still talking about that kid, Eric? Or are we talking about you? Because I distinctly remember that you tried to run away because I grounded you. Which I really don't think you can still uphold as an argument from an adult perspective."

Shawn shook his head. "You grounding me wasn't the reason I ran away, Dad. But…let's just forget about that right now, all right? I really need to figure out a way to find out the name and address of Eric's father. If the kid really comes by the office again tomorrow, I want to have something to tell him. Maybe then he won't run away for once. I'll get to it first thing tomorrow."
He got up from his chair and grabbed his helmet from the counter.

"Thanks for dinner, Dad."

Before Henry even had the chance to reply anything, Shawn had already vanished out the door. With a shake of his head, Henry placed the dishes into the dishwasher. He'd never understand how normal conversations with his son always got out of hand like that.

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The next morning, Shawn just stepped out of the shower when the telephone rang. Rubbing his damp hair with a towel, he reached for the phone and picked up.

"Hello?"

"Shawn, it's me."

"Gus, you're calling early. Don't you have rounds to make?"

"The first two appointments were cancelled, I don't have to go see any doctors until one p.m. So I went to the office. Good thing I did, too, because Chief Vick called."

Shawn frowned and placed the receiver between ear and shoulder. "Why did she call the office?"

"Because your cell goes directly to voicemail. Either you've turned it off or the battery is dead. Anyway, she wants us at the station ASAP. I'll be at your place in ten minutes."
"Did she say what this was about?"

"No, just that we're to come over. I guess she has a case for us. Listen, I got to get into the car, I'll tell you what exactly she said when I pick you up."

"All right, see you in a few minutes."

Shawn hung up and immediately went over to check his cell phone. The battery was indeed dead. Great, and where was the charger?

After five minutes of searching, he finally located it under the couch. There was too little time to start charging the phone here, he'd just have to suck some juice from Gus' car battery during their drive.

Checking that he had his wallet and keys, Shawn grabbed a jacket and left the apartment. Gus drove his car up to the building just as Shawn went down the stairs.

"Morning", Shawn said as he got into the car, fastened his seat belt and plugged his charger into the cigarette lighter at the bottom of the dashboard. Gus watched him do it with a knowing look on his face.

"Forgot to charge it again, didn't you?"

"Yes. You want me to sign a written confession?"

Gus pulled onto the street. "Somebody isn't in a good mood today."

"It's not that", Shawn said as he leaned back in the car seat. "Just had another of those discussions with my Dad last night."

"What was this one about?"

Shawn shrugged. "Old stories. He's good at warming those up again. But after you left yesterday, something interesting happened."

"What's that?"

"Eric showed up again?"

"Who is Eric?"

Shawn rolled his eyes. "The kid who rummaged through our kitchen the day before yesterday."

"Oh, and that's a good thing? What did he want this time, the TV?"

"Gus, I told you time and again that he's too scrawny to even move the TV." Shawn shook his head and quickly filled Gus in on everything that had happened the previous day, from his spotting Eric near the police station to the boy taking off at a run after telling Shawn about his father.

When he finished, Gus frowned. "So he wants us to find his father? Doesn't sound as if that would become easy if we don't even have a name."

"No, probably not. But the good thing is, it Chief Vick has a case for us, I might just get a chance to have a look at the Missing Persons files. If I can find out more about Eric, maybe it'll be easier to find his father. Who knows, the mother could have given the father's name on the birth certificate, and Eric just doesn't know."

Gus pulled the car into a parking space in front of the police station and the two of them got out. This time, the door to Chief Vick's office stood open and the blinds weren't drawn. As Shawn and Gus approached the office, Vick impatiently waved them inside.

"Mr. Spencer, Mr. Guster, glad you could make it on such a short notice."

Juliet didn't even flash a smile as a greeting, and Lassiter looked as if something had crawled into his mouth and died, but for once Shawn refrained from making any comments. His mind was racing as he prepared to take all the information he was about to receive in. He needed to figure out a way to twist the case they were about to receive in a way that he'd get the chance to look at the Missing Persons files.

"We are always ready and willing to come to the aid of the SBPD, Chief. What can we do for you this wonderful morning?"

Vick's face pulled into a frown. "Contrary to what you might be thinking, my morning has been anything but wonderful. There has been a murder last night."

Shawn frowned and looked from Vick to Juliet, Lassiter and back again. It wasn't unusual for them to call him in a murder investigation, but what was strange was that they called him so quickly after the fact.

"Not that I mind being called in, Chief, but what can I do for you? If the murder happened last night, most probably forensics from the crime scene haven't even come back yet."

Vick shook her head and got up from her chair. "They haven't. But in the light of your little visit to this very office yesterday, I think you might already have a connection to the case."

Shawn couldn't quite follow her train of thought. "Come again?"

Vick started fiddling around with the controls of the VCR/DVD system that was mounted beneath the TV in her office. "Detective Lassiter, if you'd fill him in please."

Lassiter didn't exactly look pleased, but he obeyed.

"The murder was called in at 5.30 a.m. this morning. A body which we identified by his ID as one Franklin Griggs was found in a warehouse on Wilson Boulevard this morning. The warehouse was empty except for a truckload of china waiting to be delivered to a restaurant later today. The janitor found the body during his early morning check-up round and called it in. Griggs was shot twice in the chest, by a semi-automatic handgun which was found inside the warehouse, but about twenty feet from the body. Weapon brought no hit, registration number has been filed off. It's an illegal gun, no chance for us to trace it."

Shawn nodded, taking all this in. "All right. But I still don't understand where I come in."

Juliet picked up from Lassiter. "Basically, it's what you said yesterday. You know, your vision about missing persons."

Shawn struggled to hide a triumphant grin. His chance to look up Eric's file was getting bigger and bigger.

"Right. Why, do you think that somebody who's officially missing committed the murder?"

"We have more than that", Juliet continued. "There was a security camera in the warehouse. Video only, no audio feed. The angle and lighting are not perfect, and it was set on slow rotation through all the warehouse even though only one part of it was used for storage, but we got some pretty good shots of the victim. And of the alleged shooter. We ran his picture through the system, and got a hit in a Missing Persons case."

Shawn frowned. If they had already run the picture, he needed a good reason to access those files again. Besides, if they had identified the shooter, why did Vick still want him involved?

"Okay, so what do you want me to do?"

Vick spoke again. "Yesterday you said you might get some…readings from looking over the files. Well, we were hoping that you might do exactly that. We know who our shooter is, but with him officially being reported missing, we have trouble finding him. We've put a BOLO out, but somebody who just committed a murder will be careful to avoid the police. Besides, there are other complications."

Shawn frowned again. "What complications?"

With a sigh Vick turned on the TV. The image of a warehouse appeared on the screen. As Juliet had said, the angle wasn't overly good, and it was dark, but the space in front of a group of crates was lightened, probably by a streetlamp outside. Vick touched a key on the remote and the image fast forwarded.

"Here's the victim, Franklin Griggs, entering the warehouse."

Griggs was a nondescript man of maybe forty, forty-five years. He was balding and slightly heavyset. A few moments after he entered the warehouse, he started arguing vividly with somebody off the screen.

"Unfortunately, the camera didn't catch that corner, but I think it's obvious that Griggs and the shooter are arguing."

Shawn nodded and watched. Slowly, the figure of Griggs was moving more and more towards the left side of the screen. He wasn't moving, but the camera was slowly rotating towards the right, filming nothing but the empty and dark space of the warehouse.

"We don't have the shooting on tape", Vick continued. "But when the camera rotates back, we see our shooter standing there, gun still in his hand. Once you see that, you'll understand what I mean by complications."

Shawn watched as the camera slowly rotated back. Maybe one or two minutes after Griggs had vanished from the picture, the camera slowly panned on him again. Only now he was lying on the floor, in front of the crates. There were stains on his shirt now, and blood was slowly pooling out from underneath his body. The camera slowly rotated more to the left, and another figure came into view. The person was standing there, right hand holding a gun by the handle, staring transfixedly at the body on the floor.

Shawn's heart stopped for a beat.

The figure was small, too small to be an adult. It was the small, scrawny figure of a boy, maybe not even a teenager yet. Now he understood what Vick had meant with "complications". The alleged shooter was a kid. That explained the sour mood of the detectives in the room.

Another moment later, the figure suddenly turned and started running towards the exit of the warehouse, off the screen.

Shawn's heart skipped another beat.

He didn't need a freeze image of that scene when the kid had turned towards the camera to know what results the investigation had brought forth so far.

The boy on the screen was Eric.