Chapter Thirty-Four: A Case of Shrooms

…

When White brought the carriage to a stop in front of Watch Headquarters, Navi had Link run inside to find Gord's schedule under the impression that he would be in and out very quickly. Since Link was accustomed to slipping through the lobby by now, there was no denying that he could get through in a short amount of time.

However, Wheatland caught him just as he had reached Navi's desk.

"Fieldview, wait a moment."

Link turned around to see that Wheatland had just entered the office with a piece of paper his hand. His gut churned, knowing that, somehow, whatever was on that paper was going to apply to him. "Yes, sir?" Link asked.

"Is DS Navi with you?"

Link nodded. "Yes, sir, she's waiting out in the carriage." He stepped aside and indicated the paper that he had been about to grab. "She forgot Gord's schedule; we need her address to go interview her."

Wheatland shook his head. "You're going to have to put that case on hold for a moment. We just got a request for Homicide." He paused to look at the paper in his hand. "A woman was shot in the East District, Eighty-Third South and Stormhead. The district officers are combing the area looking for the suspect."

Link frowned as he recalled the area. It was further south of where Yoanna Merrill had been shot, and he knew that it was an area that blended small businesses and apartments, mostly a commoner area of town. He reminded himself that it was well within the area of the East District that was known for shootings on the street, but he wondered if it might have had anything to do with the Merrill case. So, he asked, "Noble?"

Wheatland shook his head. "No, she was a commoner; the district officers already identified her with her work card. Eyewitnesses say that she had a confrontation with someone, and then she was shot, and the person she was with ran." He stepped forward and handed the paper to Link. "Everyone else is out, so you and DS Navi need to get over there as soon as possible."

Link took the paper and looked at it. It had the address and a few notes scribbled on it in Wheatland's difficult handwriting. "We'll get there as soon as possible, sir," he told Wheatland.

Wheatland nodded. "Be careful," he said. "I have a bad feeling about this call."

"We'll be careful, sir," Link said with a nod. He was about to leave, and then he turned and picked up the schedule that he had meant to retrieve. He quickly held it up for Wheatland to see and said, "Just in case."

"The call is your new priority, Constable," Wheatland called as Link hustled out of the office. "Take the call first!"

"Yes, boss!" Link hollered from the hallway.

Link fought his way through the busy lobby, which now felt more hostile toward him this time. It might have had something to do with the elbow he took to the head or the desk corner his knee had struck; he was usually better about getting through without getting hurt. He stumbled into the door and almost lost Gord's schedule. Once he was on the street again, he double-checked that both papers were in his hands before jogging over to the carriage.

"Hey," Link said as he stepped into the open door. "Wheatland caught me; we got a call."

Navi, who had been leaning her elbows on her knees as she waited, sat up straight. "Where to?"

"East District," Link replied, falling into the seat. "There was another shooting not far from where Yoanna Merrill was shot."

Navi crossed her arms while Link opened the window behind him. "You're not suggesting that they're related, are you?"

"No," Link replied in a casual tone. "The shooter was someone she knew; the eyewitnesses say they were arguing before the victim was shot. Besides, she isn't a noble." Then he called out to Constable White, "Hey! We're going to East District, Eighty-Third South and Stormhead."

"Eighty-Third South and Stormhead," White repeated. Link slid the window shut, and the carriage started forward.

"Did you get Gord's schedule?" Navi asked.

Link held up the sheet of paper and answered, "Yeah, but I doubt we'll get there today."

"Probably not, but it doesn't hurt to check." She leaned forward and beckoned to Link. "Let's see the call." Link passed her Wheatland's note. She spent a moment looking at it. Then she sighed and said, "His handwriting's getting worse."

"The boss said she was identified by her work card, but he didn't say who she was," Link said. "The eyewitnesses reported that she was arguing with someone, then she was shot, and the person she was arguing with ran."

"And no one knows who ran away?" Navi asked.

"Other than it was probably the shooter? No, probably not. This was out on a public street; people don't recognize each other like that."

Navi gave him a cross look. "In the off chance that someone recognized the shooter," she told him. "We're already involved with Hremorson's murder; if we can close this up quickly, we can get back to her."

Link leaned back in his seat. "It would be nice to get that one-in-five case closure…"

…

Being not very far from where Yoanna Merrill was killed, the intersection they had been called to was not much different from the scene further north. It astounded Link how street shootings looked so similar to one another. Traffic buildup in at least two directions, a crowd or two attempting to nose their way into looking at the crime scene (a disturbing trend in itself; he wondered why bystanders were so eager to see a dead body), and some poor officer hard-pressed to direct people away from the scene but dealing with a vast amount of obstinance.

White had parked nearly a block away, forcing Link and Navi to walk through the crowd. Link took point, having to call out "Homicide, comin' through!" to everyone not paying attention. This seemed to have an additional effect, as if hearing the word "Homicide" made some of the onlookers realize they probably did not want to be here and thinned the crowd a bit. The constable they approached at the edge of the crime scene was a new face, so Navi showed him her badge and identification card, and he let them pass.

The officer overseeing the body was Inspector Tanner Ironpole, another officer both knew from their district assignments. He was a tall, lanky man with glasses and his black hair trimmed to a thick, business-style cut, ever the picture of a desk man. When he spotted the two approach, he cocked an eyebrow. "Well," he said in a neutral tone once they were close enough to talk. "When Sergeant Buck and Inspector Keporra said you two had responded to his scene a couple weeks ago… I can't say I was surprised. What is a surprise is that you two are actually working together."

"Circumstances conspired against us," Navi said, giving Link an irritated glare only to receive a humored grin in response.

"Maybe," Ironpole said, "but you seem to be making the most of it."

"I thought you were on desk duty permanently," Navi said.

"I am," Ironple said. "But they called for a district supervisor, and I was the only one available."

"Really? Not Long or Keporra or Jasmine?"

Ironpole was already shaking his head in the negative. "We've had a busy morning, and Jasmine's the only one who checked in. So, when this call came, I had to leave Sergeant Kurt in charge."

Navi nodded her understanding. Then she indicated the sheet on the ground next to him. "What can you tell us?"

Ironpole grunted. "Constable Fieldview, would you mind?" he asked.

"That back gettin' worse, eh?" Link asked as he crouched next to the blood-stained sheet.

"It's gotten worse," Ironpole said. "That's why I don't go into the field if I can avoid it." Link had to take a moment to brace himself. Then he carefully lifted the sheet. As he folded it across the deceased's chest, Ironpole said, "Marie Thatcher. Twenty-six years old, laundress, married." He pulled a card out of his chest pocket and gave it to Navi. "She lives nearby. The eyewitnesses said there was an argument between her and her shooter, then a scuffle."

Link forced himself to look at the woman. Her long, brown hair was splayed across the road, but her face appeared peaceful, unlike other corpses Link had encountered. He pulled the sheet down further to reveal a light cotton jacket over a plain, brown shirt. Both garments were stained with blood, and both the jacket and her shirt sported a bullet hole in the upper-left chest.

"Anyone hear what they were arguing about?" Navi asked.

"In the middle of a busy intersection?" Ironpole replied. "It was probably a miracle they could hear what they were arguing about." For emphasis, Ironpole pointed down at Marie Thatcher.

"No identification on the man?"

Ironpole shook his head. "Just a vague description. Short blond hair, baggy, dark clothes… Constable Ford chased him down, but we haven't heard from him for an hour."

"Ford was nearby?" Navi asked as she wracked her memory in search of the name, unsure if she knew this officer or not.

"Him and Sergeant Groveland." Ironpole pointed to a female officer loitering on the nearby street corner. "She stayed to call it in. Missus Thatcher only had about a couple minutes before she died."

Link's hand hovered over the hole in Mrs. Thatcher's jacket as he took in the scorch marks surrounding the hole. Powder burns from the shot, he figured. "You said there was a scuffle?" he asked Ironpole.

"Yes," Ironpole said. "No one got a look at the gun until he fled. They were probably fighting over it during the scuffle. That was probably why they scuffled."

"Close contact?" Link asked.

"A couple of witnesses thought they were trying to hug things out until the gun went off."

Link leaned closer to the corpse and inhaled, earning a sick look from Navi further emphasized by the yellow-green color her hair changed to. He could smell the blood and the burned powder on her clothes. But there was another, familiar hint under those that he took a moment to recognize.

"Mold," he said aloud.

"Mold?" Navi repeated, confused.

"As in 'mushrooms'?" Ironpole asked.

"Probably," Link said. "The guy was probably a strong user if his smell rubbed off on her during the struggle."

"I thought treated mushrooms made Hylians sedate, not homicidal," Navi said.

"Haven't you heard of the poisoned mushroom, Detective Sergeant?" Link asked.

"'Poisoned' mushroom?" Navi repeated.

"It's still a chemically-treated mushroom," Ironpole explained. "However, the mushroom itself is poisonous, and the chemicals cause the mushroom to turn into a powerful psychotic agent. First is irrational paranoia, then aggressiveness, then, within maybe two or three hours, death. The brain itself is practically cooked beyond repair; I've seen the autopsies."

Navi grimaced at the thought. "And Hylians eat these willingly?" she asked.

"Not usually," Link said. "People who eat shrooms have to watch out for them; the people who cook 'em occasionally accidently cook one and give it to a regular user without realizin' it."

"Are you sure she wasn't the one who eats mushrooms?"

Link shook his head as he stood up. "Women who eat shrooms know about the smell, so they usually wear a bunch of perfume to cover it up. She's barely wearing any."

"If it was a poisoned mushroom, Ford should be calling back not too long about a dead body," Ironpole said. He sighed. "I suppose we should call another body wagon."

"If she's married, has anyone notified her husband?" Navi asked.

"I haven't sent anyone yet," Ironpole said. "To tell you the truth, I was hoping to talk you into taking care of it. I know I'm technically the superior on the scene, but I need to get back to the office soon; my back is already screaming in pain as it is."

"We still have to wait for the body wagon to get here," Navi pointed out.

"I can do that," Ironpole told her. "It shouldn't be much longer. We'll call up headquarters when the other body surfaces."

Navi looked to Link. "Any further insights, Constable?" she asked him.

"Not really," Link said. "But I'm guessin' she doesn't live far away."

Navi looked at the work card still in her hand. "Twenty-one-three Ninety-First South, apartment thirty-six," she told Link. "Not too far away."

…

The mount-up was quick, but it still took them nearly half an hour to arrive at the apartment building. The building, a tall, narrow figure among similar apartments on its block, was about what they could expect of a young, working-class, married couple. With luck, they would be speaking with her husband and not explaining her death to a child. They located the apartment on the third floor, and Navi raised her fist to knock on the door.

Link immediately grabbed her wrist. "Wait, wait…" he told her in a low voice. "Smell it?"

She gave Link a confused look as he glanced over his shoulder at the bare wall behind them. "What is it?" she asked, keeping her voice at the same level as him.

"Mold."

Navi's hair turned gray. "You mean…"

"I got a bad feeling," Link said as he snapped open his holster. "Get behind me."

Navi slid behind Link and pulled her pistol out while Link leaned back and pressed his shoulder against the drywall next to the doorframe. She eyed the back of her revolver and shifted the cylinder to make sure it was secured for firing. She heaved a sigh to steady herself before telling Link in a low voice, "Okay, Constable."

Link took in a breath and struck his fist under the doorknob twice. "City Watch!" he bellowed through the door, quickly withdrawing his hand from in front of the door. "Mister Thatcher, open th—"

PAM! Link shifted back upon perceiving a bullet punch through the wooden door. PAM! Link turned when the next one emerged at about head height closer to his side of the door. "Hold your fire!" Link shouted at the door. "We're here to help you!" PAM!

After the shock of the reports cleared his ears, Link could hear faintly through the door, "… fault! I didn't wanna do it! You made me!"

"Mister Thatcher!" Link shouted back. "You ate a poison mushroom! We need to get you help!"

PAM!

That was four, the average bullet capacity of a civilian-owned revolver. "He's out," Link quickly told Navi before he shifted to stand right in front of the door. He had his shoulders twisted to present less of a target and tried the doorknob. Locked. He turned and thrust his left foot hard at the spot near the knob. BAM! The door shivered in response. Link had to take a moment to recover and then kicked again. BAM-KK! The frame gave way, and the door swung inward and slammed into the closet door of a narrow entryway.

Link pressed forward and used his right foot to push the door out of the way at the bottom while he pulled his service revolver. "City Watch!" Link hollered inside. "Mister Thatcher, if yo—"

"RAAAAAAAAH!" From the sitting room just inside the entryway, Link saw a large, dark-clad figure charging toward him and trained his revolver on it. When he saw a silver glint in his hand—

BANG BANG!

He fired. No hesitation, no time to wonder if the object in the man's hand was a weapon. The intent to do harm was clear enough.

Mr. Thatcher stumbled in response to the gunshot, and Link quickly pressed himself against the door to get out of the flailing man's way. Navi, having just rounded into the doorway with her own gun trained over Link's shoulder, immediately raised the gun to the ceiling and jumped backwards as Mr. Thatcher fell face-first to the floor, the object in his hand bouncing against the carpet outside and thumping against the wall opposite the door.

Link holstered his revolver and immediately fell onto Mr. Thatcher's back. Mr. Thatcher bucked underneath Link. "Auraagh!" Thatcher practically barked, his words lost to what sounded like blind rage. "Ooh-ragh!"

"Mister Thatcher, we need you to calm down!" Link hollered as he reached for Thatcher's left arm, which was stretched as if to grab onto Navi's ankle. "Just let us help you!"

Link then felt the convulsions as he tried to pin Thatcher's arm behind his back. Letting out a mangled swear under his breath, he grabbed a fistful of Thatcher's jacket at the shoulder and, after standing up, rolled Thatcher onto his back. Thatcher opened his mouth and let out a gurgle, his green, bloodshot eyes wide and staring past the ceiling. His body twitched and writhed for a second.

Then his eyes rolled up as his body fell limp against the floor.

Link, having crouched down in preparation to put pressure on Mr. Thatcher's stomach, let out a breath and stood back up. "Damn…"

Navi lowered her gun, having kept it trained on Mr. Thatcher since Link started to restrain him. "He's dead?" she asked.

Link bent over and used his fingers to probe around Mr. Thatcher's neck. He felt for a pulse for a couple minutes before reporting, "Yeah. He's dead." He glanced around at his torso and identified at least one hole in the front of his jacket near his collarbone. "That one shot wasn't even fatal. The shrooms killed him."

Navi holstered her service gun. "You're sure?" she asked.

Link nodded. "Seen it… maybe three times now? It's like the body's tryin' to keep goin' while the brain's already gone. Probably why he didn't try talkin' to us."

Navi turned and located the object Thatcher had thrown. "A carving knife," she told Link, pointing. "He was actually planning to stab you."

"Yeah, that's what the last guy tried to do, too," Link told her as he stepped over Thatcher and out into the hallway. "Ended about as well. Smell it?"

Navi frowned at him until she realized what he was talking about. "Yeah," she said, focused on the hint of mold in the air. "Yeah, I can."

Link gestured at the apartment and said, "The whole place reeks. That might've been why she smelled like it; her husband was the user."

Navi stared at the deceased on the floor for a moment. Then she held a hand out to Link. "Fieldview, I'm going to need your service weapon."

Link glanced down at the unsecured revolver in his holster. He then heaved a sigh and removed it. "Yes, ma'am…" he groaned as he switched it to hold it by the barrel and offered it to Navi handle-first. Navi took it and turned the barrel so that the hammer sat behind a spent percussion cap. "Leave?"

"Standard procedure for both of us," she told him. Then, upon hearing footsteps in the direction of the stairwell, she turned. "Watch business; stay in your apartments!" Link glanced to his left to see a neighbor peeking around the corner from their own apartment door. The neighbor quickly ducked back inside and slammed the door shut.

At the same time, Constable White appeared out of the stairwell with her revolver drawn and pointed up at the ceiling on standby to aim. "Everything okay here, Detective Sergeant?" she called down the hallway. "I thought I heard shots earlier."

"You did," Navi replied, one hand beckoning her to approach. When she was close enough for normal-level conversation, Navi asked her, "Did you call in the shots?"

"Yes, ma'am," White replied. "Then I hustled in as soon as I could. What happened?"

"We found our shooter," Navi told her. "You have just become our overseer. Constable Fieldview fired two rounds, and the suspect died either from gunshot wounds or a poisonous mushroom. I have Constable Fieldview's firearm. Fieldview, you'll have to go to the phone and call it in."

"Right," Link said. He walked quickly past White, who was holstering her revolver, and started down the stairs.

Once he was on the street, he saw a police phone on the opposite corner from where White had left the carriage. He had to wave at a few passing wagons in the intersection to make sure he could cross without being run over. Once he was at the police phone, he picked up the earphone and rapidly tapped on the paddle the earphone had been resting on.

"Watch operator," a woman's voice spoke up through the earphone.

"Constable Fieldview, Homicide, see-two-two-seven-three," Link said into the mouthpiece attached to the phone's body.

There was a pause over the line, broken only by the sound of a book page being flipped. "Constable, please repeat your badge number," the operator said.

"See-two-two-seven-three."

"Okay, Constable Fieldview, I have you here. What can I do for you?"

"Cancel shots fired call to East District, twenty-one-three Ninety-First South," Link said. "One deceased on-scene same; we need transport. Also advise Homicide division; officer fired. Scene secured otherwise."

"Okay, cancelling shots-fired call to East District, 21-3 91st South. One deceased reported on-scene, dispatch transport. Advising Homicide of officer-involved shooting. Scene secured. Is this correct?"

"Yes, ma'am," Link replied.

"Any further requests, Constable Fieldview?"

"No, that's it," Link said.

"Understood, Constable Fieldview. Relaying requests. End call."

"Ending call," Link said before returning the earphone to its cradle. Then he slapped a hand over his eyes and heaved a sigh. What was about to follow was an awkward amount of waiting.

…

Link, Navi, and White allowed the first responding officers (unaware that the shots-fired call had been canceled) to take over watching Mr. Thatcher's body and kept them to the side of the scene while confiscating Link's revolver. They had shown up fifteen minutes after Link had reported to the dispatcher. Ironpole was also rerouted to their location to take over as scene supervisor, showing up after another fifteen minutes after the first responders. He confirmed with Link and Navi that Mr. Thatcher had been the shooter they were looking for, and he had brought Sergeant Groveland to identify the body (Constable Ford had yet to report in).

Wheatland showed up almost half an hour later. When he first stepped out of the stairwell, he gave Link and Navi a bewildered look.

Navi raised a hand and flagged down Ironpole with, "Inspector?"

Ironpole turned and saw Wheatland raise his badge. He approached the three and introduced himself, "Inspector Ironpole, East Division."

"Homicide, Superintendent Wheatland," was the response while Wheatland slid the wallet holding his badge onto his trouser pocket. "What can you tell me?"

"From what I gather, Navi and Fieldview were here to inform the deceased about his wife being killed; this was the call to Homicide earlier," Ironpole said. He took in a breath and crossed his arms. "But, when they knocked, the deceased opened fire with a four-shot revolver. Fieldview breached the door, and the deceased charged at him with a kitchen knife. Fieldview fired two shots; we've located the wounds in both the chest and on the collarbone." Link felt the blood drain from his face; he had not realized that he had shot Mr. Thatcher in the chest. "Both officers reported the deceased struggling before either succumbing to his wounds or the fatal effects of poisoned mushrooms. It was a good shoot, Superintendent."

Wheatland nodded. "Has the body been retrieved yet?" he asked.

"No, sir, we're still waiting on the wagon."

"Make sure that autopsy report gets to Homicide; I'll take charge of the shooting." He turned to Link and Navi. "Okay, you two, you know the procedure. I need your badges." Navi, having already removed her badge, immediately handed it to Wheatland. Link had to take a moment to unpin his from his uniform jacket. Once Link handed the badge over, Wheatland put them in the pocket of his long overcoat. "Fieldview, where's your firearm?"

"Here, sir," Ironpole said as he handed Wheatland a brown paper bag. Wheatland glanced inside to see Link's revolver. "We also have Mister Thatcher's weapon secured."

Wheatland heaved a sigh and turned back to Link and Navi. "Boy, you two stepped into a live one, didn't you?" he asked with a faint hint of a grin in his tone.

"Constable Fieldview initially assessed the perpetrator as potentially being under the effects of a poisoned mushroom," Ironpole said. "But, uh… we hadn't expected the victim's husband to have been the perpetrator."

"It'll probably be handed to Drugs and Heads, then," Wheatland said, nodding in acknowledgment of the shooting being transferred to the Altered Suspects division. "Well, either way, you two have a week of paid leave and a visit from Watch Conduct. As long as you keep to your story, you should be fine."

"Yes, sir," both Navi and Link replied with an air of exhaustion.

Then Link turned to Navi. "So much for questioning Gord…" he commented.

"Sir, we're still investigating Hremorson's murder," Navi pointed out.

Wheatland, however, shook his head. "You know procedure, Detective Sergeant," he said. "One week unless circumstances change. I'm afraid Hremorson's case will have to wait."