What Shadows Lie
By: Chris Ward
They’re out there, among us. In the shadows, in the light; we pass them on the street
without a glance, never suspecting, never knowing. Do they even know yet that they are
bound together for a common purpose, a glaring reality, to be extraordinary? And when
destiny does anoint them, how do they hide from it? How long can they dwell in the
shadows, before fate, or their own flawed humanity draws them out into the light? And
how will they know what awaits them, when it finally does? (Mohinder Suresh)
The petite redhead was finishing the last of her morning shower when the bathroom
door slammed open. Standing in the doorway was another woman, slightly taller and
nearly twenty years older. “You about done in here, Gertrude?”
With a startled squeal, Gertrude, who preferred to be called Tru or Trudy, Ransome
ripped the towel off the rack and threw it around her body. When she realized who had
barged in, she sighed in exasperation. Shutting off the water, she said, “Christ, Mom.
Can’t you fucking knock?”
Leaning against the doorframe, her mother, Delilah, smirked. “Why? You think you’ve
got something I haven’t seen?”
Stripping the water from her hair, Tru stepped out of the shower and glared at her
mother. “That’s not the point, and you damned well know it.” At the mirror, she ran a
comb and brush through her hair. “What do you want anyway?”
“That asshole partner of yours is here. What do you want me to do with him?”
Putting the comb and brush away, Tru turned from her mother and stripped off the
towel. After drying herself, she tossed it aside and wrapped herself in a clean one.
Heading into her bedroom, she said, “Ray’s not an asshole, Mother. He’s a good man,
and one hell of a cop. When you get right down to it, he’s probably a better detective
than I am.”
Shaking her head, her mother said, “He’s a Goddamn man, Gertrude. By definition, that
makes him an asshole.”
Rubbing her temples in irritation, Tru counted to ten before replying. “Whatever,
Mom.” Gently pushing her toward the bedroom door, she finished. “Just let him know I’
ll be ready to go in about five minutes.”
After her mother left, Tru dressed. After applying some makeup, she unlocked the gun
safe and carried the contents across to her bed, grabbing a slim belt on the way over.
Threading the black belt through the loops on her dark navy slacks, she secured the
handcuff holster just behind her left hip and her service issue nine millimeter on her
right. Sitting down, she rolled up her pant leg and strapped her backup revolver just
below the curve of her calf.
Pulling the pant leg back down, she slid into a pair of heeled shoes and stood up.
Glancing into the full length mirror across the room, she smoothed the pale blue
blouse she had chosen, and pulled on the suit jacket. Stopping at the dresser on the
way out, she clipped her badge to her belt and slipped on her wristwatch. On the way
down the hall to the front door, she adjusted her gun so that it rode more comfortably
on her hip.
From the front door, she called out, “Ray? Let’s haul.” Waiting for him to make his
appearance, she grabbed her keys and sunglasses.
As she was putting them on, Radulf Taylor came into the hall from the living room. At
six foot tall, he dwarfed his partner by eight inches. In his typical gray suit and tie, he
looked to be the stereotypical big city detective; tough, smart, and not above breaking
the rules to get things done. Grabbing his overcoat from beside the door, he grinned.
“Let’s go.”
Pulling on her own overcoat, an expensive gift from a better-forgotten ex-lover, she
called back, “Bye, Mom. See you tonight sometime.”
Once the car was out of the drive and safely headed to the precinct, Ray glanced over.
“So, what was Dee’s problem today?”
Snorting in disgust, she leaned back and closed her eyes. “Who knows, or cares?
Some guy at her job probably got the promotion she wanted. Combine that with the
rape that brought me along, and you have one seriously fucked up man-hater.”
Laughing, he turned the corner. “You know, Gert, I’ve never actually understood your
reasoning for moving back in with her last year.”
Opening her eyes and looking out the window, she admitted, “I missed the
neighborhood. Despite the problems growing up with a Grandmother suffering from
Alzheimer’s, even despite the fact that Mom can be, and usually is, a Class-A bitch, it’s
home. Not to mention the fact that I was tired in living in that cheap ass apartment my
bastard ex, Max, rented for us. It was time to come home, start over.”
Ray was getting ready to say something else when he saw Tru stiffen in her seat,
peering out the windshield. Following her gaze, he found himself looking at a large
house on the corner. A young woman had just stumbled out the door and was kneeling
on the ground, apparently vomiting. Before he had a chance to say anything, Tru
grabbed the radio. “Command, this is Detective Gertrude Ransome. My partner and I
are investigating a possible disturbance at thirteen, repeat one three, Poplar Avenue.”
Putting the radio back, she caught her partner’s look. As he pulled ahead, she
shrugged. “That’s the Gallantine place. They’re good folks, and that almost has to be
their daughter, Ali.”
When the car rolled to a stop, they both clearly saw that the teenager was covered in
blood. Tru swore and leapt out the passenger door, crossing to the girl in seconds.
With a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach, Ray stepped to the trunk and grabbed a
thin blanket. Once he reached them, he draped it over the girl’s shoulders.
Sticking the bow of her sunglasses between the second and third buttons on her
blouse, Tru wrapped an arm around the girl. “What’s wrong, Ali?”
Ali worked her face against the emotion for a minute before collapsing against Tru with
a wail. “They’re dead!”
Holding the weeping girl against herself, Tru attempted to get some clarification. “Who’
s dead?” After a pause in which Ray watched his partner’s face pale in horror, she
gasped, “Not Luke and Marie?” When Ali nodded against her chest, she looked up at
him. “Can you call this in? I’m going to call someone to stay out here with her.”
Pulling out his radio, Ray stepped away from the two of them and made the call.
“Command, this is Detective Radulf Taylor. We have a double fatality, possibly a double
homicide, at thirteen, repeat one three, Poplar Avenue. Request perimeter control,
Medical Examiner and Crime Scene. Detective Ransome and I will secure the area.”
Putting the radio away, he watched a man and young woman, roughly Ali’s age, walk up
and wrap her in a tight embrace. Pulling him aside, Tru said, “Let it go, Ray. That’s her
best friend, Nell Cosgrove, and her father, Elliot. Let’s check the house.”
Holding their guns at the ready, they entered through the open door. Going through
the family room to their left, they secured each room they entered. After making a
circuit through the family room, dining room and kitchen, they found themselves back
where they had started. On their right was a hall with four doors.
Pulling on gloves they proceeded to check each room. There was nothing interesting
until they reached the master bedroom at the end of the hall. Tru entered first, but
immediately stopped in her tracks. Her face white with a combination of horror and
fury, she could barely force out the words. “Son of a bitch! Whoever did this is fucking
dead when we find him, I swear to fucking God!”
Stepping around her, Ray stopped and stared in horror. The scene brought back
memories of his time as a Marine Sergeant in Afghanistan. The room most closely
resembled a slaughterhouse. Blood was sprayed up the walls and across the ceiling.
The bed was covered in the spatter. The largest concentrations were around the
bodies. And it was those bodies that sent him back to Afghanistan.
The first body was male, presumably Luke Gallantine, and was clad only in his
underwear. He lay crumpled beside the closet, surrounded by a massive pool of blood.
The woman, presumably Marie Gallantine, lay sprawled beside the bed, the tattered
remnants of her nightgown soaked in the blood that surrounded her body.
As bad as that was, the part causing the worst problem for him was the cause of death.
Both bodies had been decapitated, and the murderer had apparently taken the heads
with him. Raising his radio to his pale lips, he managed, “Command, confirm double
homicide at one three Poplar Avenue.”
Working their way back outside, they met the Medical Examiner as she was coming in.
A slightly overweight black woman in her mid-thirties, she was considered a good
friend and sounding board by both detectives. “Hey Tru, Ray; where are my customers
for the day?”
Giving her directions back to the bodies, Ray finished with, “Listen, Tris, be prepared.
It’s ugly back there. We’ll be back with the camera in a couple minutes. Don’t let them
move the bodies.”
As she indicated agreement and entered the house, a furious bellow came from behind
him. “Officer McHenry!” Spinning around, he saw Tru in a towering rage, glaring down
the walk.
Looking in the same direction, he saw what had so infuriated her. Officer Tom McHenry
looked up from where he had apparently been interviewing the nearly hysterical Ali
and Nell, as well as an increasingly irate Elliot.
Although McHenry’s assumption of authority shocked and angered Ray, he was
surprised at the level of fury in Tru’s demeanor and voice. “Up here! Now!”
When he had joined them, Ray jumped in before she could get started. “Perhaps we
should do this inside? Specifically, out of site of civilians?”
Once they were in, Ray closed the door. Before Officer McHenry had a chance to do
more than look confused, he found himself slammed against the wall. Tru, glaring into
his face in with a surprising vehemence, shouted, “Just what the fuck did you think
you were doing out there, Officer?”
“I was interviewing the suspect.”
“Bullshit! You were terrorizing a pair of teenage girls, you damned dickhead! Why were
you sent out here?”
Rolling his eyes heavenward, he confessed, “Traffic control.”
“Then what the hell were you doing fucking around our crime scene, away from your
damned assignment?”
“For Christ’s sake, Gertrude…” Whatever he had been going to say was lost in a
strangled gasp.
Whispering into his ear, which was now down by her mouth, she said, “I can hurt you
far worse than this without the slightest mark, you damned moron.” Increasing the
pressure, she raised her voice. “You will never, even in your filthiest, most perverted
fantasies, call me anything other than Detective. Is that understood, Officer Jackass?”
When he nodded, she released him. “Now, you were saying?”
“There are plenty of cops out there doing traffic. They don’t need me, so I thought I’d
help out here.”
“That is bullshit, asswipe! You thought you’d show us what a good detective you’d
make. Guess what, buddy? You, thank God for small favors, are not a fucking
detective! Do you, by any chance, know why you are not a detective?”
Looking slightly shamefaced, he said, “Because I haven’t passed the exam.”
“And just how many times have you taken the damned thing?”
Closing his eyes, he muttered, “Six.”
“Guess what, genius; you haven’t passed because of one simple reason: You are a
fucking idiot! I’ve never heard of anyone having to take it that often.” Stepping even
closer to him, she said, “You would be the worst excuse for a detective this city ever
had. You are not even a real fucking cop! You’re nothing but a tiny fucking dick with a
badge and gun.” Releasing him, she said, “Now get the fuck out of my sight before I
change my mind about killing you.”
Stepping toward the door, he looked back at her. “Is this revenge for the whole
Parkman situation? I know you wanted to bang him. Had to have hurt when he took up
with that FBI bitch.”
Taking a lightning quick step toward him, she smashed the heel of her hand into his
ribs twice, nearly breaking them. “No. That was for the Parkman situation.” Taking his
chin with one hand, she forced him to look at her, “If you were any kind of man, you
would never have messed around with his bitch-whore of a wife. Then, I guess calling
you a real man is expecting too much. I just wish Parkman had been armed when he
found out.” Releasing his chin, she slammed her knee into his crotch, following that
with a chop to the nerve cluster at the base of his shoulder. Grabbing his hair in one
hand, she forced him to look in her face. “That was for having the balls to suggest that
I was anything like you.” Dropping his head, she wiped her hands clean. “Now get up
and get to work. You’re disgusting me.”
Standing up, he draped his injured arm across his nearly broken ribs. “You can’t get
away with that shit. That was assault.”
This time, Ray spoke up. “It’s only assault if you can prove it, dumbass. Nobody,
including myself, saw a damned thing.”
Muttering under his breath, Officer McHenry went back to his cruiser. Turning to his
partner, Ray shook his head. “Christ, Tru. Did you have to try and kill him?”
“Trust me. If I’d wanted him dead, he wouldn’t be walking now. Let’s go; you get the
camera and I’ll apologize.”
Before she had a chance to say anything, Elliot jumped in. “What the fuck’s going on
here? Why’d you let that asshole grill us like that? He practically accused Ali of
murdering Luke and Marie!”
Closing her eyes in a vain attempt to control her anger, she spoke. “First of all, he’s
finished. He knows that if he even thinks of talking to you three again, he’ll have to
deal with me; and he’s justifiably terrified of me.”
Shaking her head, she continued. “I’m supposed to give you the company line here;
how he’s simply an overzealous officer who went a little further than he should have.
The truth, though, is that he’s an incompetent ass with delusions of adequacy.”
Looking at Ali, she rested a hand on her shoulder. “I am going to have to ask you a few
questions later. It’s part of my job, but I don’t have even the smallest suspicion that
you’re involved. I just need some information.” Looking up as Ray approached from the
car, she finished. “Trust me on this, Ali. We are going to catch the animal responsible,
and we are going to make him pay. You have my word.”
Back inside the bedroom, Ray began taking pictures of the bodies and room, while Tru
spoke with the Medical Examiner. “So, Tris, you have anything for us?”
Laughing as she finished her on scene notes, she said, “Yeah, you could say that.
These poor people seem to have died between six and eight hours ago.”
Tru did the math in her head and gave her a slightly surprised look. “You’re saying
between 11 pm on the sixth and 1 this morning?”
“If that’s the way it works out. I might be able to tell more once I get them on the table.”
Straightening up, she beckoned over to the woman’s body. “You’ll want to see this.
See the raggedness around the separation line, as well as what seems to be an intact
spine?” When Tru bent down and indicated that she did, Tris continued. “That’s the
cause of death. Specifically, they both died because someone literally ripped off their
heads.”
Ray spun around, nearly stepping in the man’s blood. “Ripped off? Don’t you mean
cut?” When she shook her head, he continued, “But how?”
She shrugged. “I wish I knew. The only thing I can positively say is that it is definitely
beyond the capabilities of any of those three out on the walk. Actually, given the
amount of strength and force needed, I suspect it’s beyond the physical capability of
anyone.”
Tru stared at her over the notebook. “You’re saying that nothing human did this?”
“Precisely.”
“What about some sort of animal?”
Rubbing the back of her neck, Tris considered that idea. “There are certainly animals
capable of causing something like this. The problem is that the only animals I can think
of would leave distinctive marks on the bodies, and those marks aren’t present.”
Ray spoke up again. “It would have to be something mechanical, wouldn’t it?”
“That’s all I can really think of, although I can’t imagine the machine built to do this.”
Scratching his chin, he said, “All right. You have work to finish, and so do we. We’ll see
you at the lab.”
On the way to the front door, Tru looked at her partner. “You have a theory, don’t you?”
Lost in thought, he answered, “About the motive only. I can’t even imagine how the
murders were carried out.”
“So what’s your theory?”
“I don’t want to say right now. After we leave, assuming we hear from Ali what I expect,
I’ll tell you.”
When they reached the three still huddled together on the front walk, Ray took out his
notebook and nodded for Tru to take the lead. Gesturing to the front step, she had
them all sit down. “First, Ali, nobody could be sorrier than I am. Luke and Marie were
like second parents to me. Still, I have to ask some questions.” When she nodded, Tru
continued. “All right; I guess we’ll start with where you were last night.”
Holding Nell’s hand, she explained. “Nell’s b’day was yesterday. I went to the party,
because we’ve been BFFs since we were five.” Catching Ray’s puzzled look, she
managed a sad smile. “Best Friends Forever. Anyway, the two of us hung out until
maybe 10 or 11, and I called home asking if I could just stay there. They said okay, but
to get here around 7 or so, in order to get to church.
“I got here around 6:30, I guess, and the house was locked. When I got in, I couldn’t
find either of them, so I knocked on their bedroom door. When nobody answered, I
opened the door. I must have stood there staring for a good five or ten before I ran
screaming outside. That’s when you guys showed up.”
Ali stared into the distance for a minute before asking the next question. “Has anything
odd been going on lately? Weird phone calls; your parents acting strange; anything out
of the norm?”
Thinking about it, Ali started to deny that happening, but stopped herself. “Wait a
minute. There were a couple of strange phone calls last week. The first time, Dad
picked it up and vanished into their room. He was yelling something about either not
paying or not taking the money, something like that anyway. It was kind of tough to
make out. That was maybe a week and a half ago. After that, we got calls every few
days, but Mom and Dad ignored them.”
“Strange phone calls? Anything else?”
“Just that I heard Mom and Dad fighting the other night. I wasn’t supposed to hear
anything, but Mom seemed almost hysterical. She kept screaming something about ‘he’
ll know’. When I asked the next day, they acted like I must have been dreaming.”
Looking into Tru’s eyes, she said, “Does this mean anything?”
“I wish I knew, Ali, I really do. I guess the only other question of real importance is
whether or not you know anybody who might have wanted to do this? I know your Dad
was a shipping manager down by the docks. Was anybody especially mad at him? Or
your Mom?”
“No. Nothing I can think of anyway.”
Standing up, Tru looked back down. “All right, I guess that’s everything. I’ll try to keep
you in the loop, as much as possible, Ali. I’ll have to talk to child services, since you’re
still a minor, but I think I can swing it so you stay with Nell and Elliot.” Putting on her
sunglasses again, she gave her a brief hug and headed to the car.
Pulling out into the street, she looked at her partner again. “Spill! What’s your theory?”
Back in traffic, past the patrol cruisers, he shrugged. “Basically, it comes down to
money. That’s one of the main reasons to kill people; money, sex, and anger. The
killings actually reminded me of what I saw in Afghanistan; only there it was about
religion. That’s not a common problem in LA, although there are a few whack jobs
around. A sex crime would have been more violent, and a crime based on anger would
have been nowhere near as staged. This feels premeditated, and almost looks like it
was a message. That says, to me, that it’s money.”
“All right, assuming you’re right, there’s still the problem of whose money.”
“True. Still, I think we can figure that out. You said Luke worked the docks?”
“Yeah. Where’s this going?”
Turning the corner, he headed to the highway. “I suspect what Ali really heard was
something about some wise guy being unable to pay him off.”
“Wise guy?”
“Mob. It started as a term for a member of the Italian mob, but pretty much means any
mobster now. I know the Russians, Irish and Italians are moving a lot of stuff through
here. My guess is he was given hush money by one or the other of those groups, and
refused to take it. An admirable, but foolhardy, stand on principle. Those that can’t be
bought will be snuffed. It’s how the breed thinks.”
“So we’re looking at the mob right now?”
“Not exclusively, but I think I’ll talk to some of my friends in Vice and Anti-Crime
anyway.”
At the station, he dropped his coat over the back of his chair and dialed out even as he
sat down. Tossing her coat on her desk, Tru entered the Captain’s office when he
signaled to her.
“Sorry about birding on roll, Captain.”
A rough seeming man in his early fifties, he looked exactly like the hardened detective
he had been. “No problem, Ransome. I’d have been pissed off if you hadn’t stopped.”
Indicating a chair, he said, “Have a seat and outline the situation.”
Sitting down, she pulled out her notebook. “Two decapitated bodies at the scene.
According to Tris, the heads were ripped or torn off.”
The Captain choked on his coffee. “Jesus H. Christ! Ripped? How the hell’d that
happen?”
Shrugging, she admitted, “We don’t really know. Tris basically ruled out anything but
mechanical removal, somehow, but wasn’t able to confirm on scene. We’ll hit the lab
later. Hopefully she’ll be able to get some answers when she has them on the table.”
Glancing out his window, he saw Ray taking down a few notes while talking on the
phone. “What’s he up to?”
Putting away her notebook, she said, “Some info popped during the interview with the
daughter. It seemed to hint at possible mob involvement. He’s got some contacts with
Vice, and part of his old team is still with Anti-Crime, so he’s looking for information
that way.”
“All right. What’s next?”
“I’m gonna go ahead and run a state wide search on the MO, and see if anything turns
up. Other than that, I have some calls of my own to make. I have to get in touch with the
DA and see if she can convince the phone company to turn over the records for the
past few months, and then I’m going to grab Ray and head to the docks.”
“Why the docks?”
“The father, Luke Gallantine, worked down there. I’m fairly sure he was a shipping
manager. I want to get in touch with some coworkers, maybe his boss, and get some
info.”
Scratching his head, the Captain worried out loud about something. “This is your
neighborhood, Detective. I’m certain you knew this family. My only concern is this: will
this create problems for you?”
“No sir. It should have no impact on my work solving this murder.”
Looking over his glasses at her through narrowed eyes, he cleared his throat. “I’ll take
your word for that, Ransome. If I think it is affecting you, I’ll have you reassigned.
Understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Very well. Now get out of here and back to work.” As she was heading out the door, he
added, “Keep me in the loop on this, all right.”
With a nod, she closed the door and went back to her desk. She sat down just as Ray
was getting up. “Vice didn’t know a damned thing, but Anti-Crime thinks they might
have something for me. I’m heading down there now, wanna come?”
Pulling up the proper search on her computer, she said, “No can do. I’ve got a crap
load of work to do here. You head down, but let me know if you find anything out,
clear?”
“Got it.” With that, he headed out the back while she keyed the particulars into the
search.
********************
Down in Anti Crime’s headquarters, he found himself encased in a bear hug by a giant
of a man, with a distinctly Australian accent. “Ray! What’s up man?”
Laughing, he patted the man’s back. “Not much, Buzz. How’s the place holding
together?”
“Aw man, you know how it is. One day at a time. Maybe we’ll get enough funding down
here, someday, to really get to work.”
“That’ll be the day. Listen, where’s Rita hiding?”
A small black woman stood up from behind her desk. “Hey Ray! Long time no see. How’
s Major Case treating ya?”
Walking over to the desk, he shook her hand. “Some days are better than others.”
“Ever miss this place?”
“Not really. Too many friends weren’t coming back, Rita. You know that’s why I took the
promotion and split.”
Sadly, she nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I know how it is. The good ones are rare, even
now. Most of your old crew is either dead or doing time.”
“I know. I went to Bob’s funeral, and Nicko’s trial.”
Rita looked closely at him. “I know you didn’t come down here just to shoot the breeze,
Ray. What’ve we got that MC would be interested in?”
Glad for the chance to get down to basics, he moved some files off the chair and sat
down. “We’ve got a problem, Rita. We’ve got a double homicide upstairs that’s looking
mob related.”
Shocked, she said, “Mob? Which one?”
“Not sure yet. Tru’s running an MO search, and I think she’s also getting the DA to
grant permission for us to run the phone records.”
“So what help do you think we can be?”
“I was hoping for an idea of the groups that are making a name for themselves.”
“Damn, boy, ya don’t want much, do ya.”
Shrugging, he said, “I called the Cap, Rita. He said you guys might have something
shaking.”
Leaning back in her chair, she crossed her arms under her breasts. “If you were
anyone else, Ray, I’d tell you to go to hell. You know that, right?”
Grinning, he pulled out his notebook. “I do. That’s why I’m down here and didn’t send
anyone else.” Nodding slightly he finished, “Plus, I do miss the sights and sounds
down here. It may not always have been fun, but it was always interesting.”
“Still the same old Ray. You never did learn to take no for an answer, did you?”
“That’s not how I was raised, Rita.”
“Damn.” Steepling her fingers for a minute, she finally said, “All right. Give me a couple
minutes to get the stuff together.”
“Briefing room?”
“Yeah. It should be clear.”
About ten minutes later, he found himself seated at the briefing table looking over
several boxes of folders that Rita had dragooned several rookies into carrying in.
“Well, this is everything we’ve got.”
“Damn.” Picking up the first folder, he started thumbing through it. “I guess the first
point is to find recent additions to the scene. You know what I’m looking for, Rita. It’s
the same thing we looked for when going after the gangs. New turf wars, a sudden
escalation in the violence, witnesses either disappearing or changing testimony.”
A couple hours passed in silence as they worked their way through the files, sorting
them into two piles. By the time they were finished, fewer than a dozen were in the pile
they were interested in. Rita started putting the others in their boxes. Finishing that,
she sat back down. “Well, that part’s done. What next, Ray?”
“We look for anything that hints one of these guys is down by the docks.”
“You’re joking, right?”
“I wish I was, Rita. I really do.”
“Ray, you know damned well that everybody uses the docks. Hell, even the majority of
the gangs import there.”
“I think I can make it easier. What I’m looking for would be extremely recent. I doubt we’
d need to go further than a couple, maybe four, months. I’m looking for unusual
murders, mostly.”
“How unusual?”
“Well, these two had their heads ripped off.”
“Shit!”
“Yeah. Whoever the doer was took them with him too. I’m thinking it was a combination
message and confirmation.”
“Message to others that might want to betray? And confirmation, you mean the head?
You think the doer took them back to whoever gave the order?”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.”
“All right, I guess. Let’s get to it.” After another half hour or so, they had cut the stack
down to three potentials. “Damn, Ray, these guys are all Irish.”
“Is there anything we can use here?”
“No. None of them are even confirmed. The files were only created because a couple
Russkies told us, through back channels if you will, that these guys were moving in on
their turf. All three are suspected of being involved in a series of murders and high
dollar thefts, but we can’t get anybody to talk.”
Opening the files, he said, “Well, let’s see who we’re looking at here.” Looking at the
suspects in each file he wrote their names down in his notebook, along with a brief
synopsis of what Anti Crime was looking at them for.
Angus Sullivan: Believed to be a soldier in the Irish mafia. Sponsor unknown.
Suspected of involvement in burglaries and witness intimidation; possibly involved in
several murders.
Devnet Cormac: Believed to be a soldier in the Irish mafia. Sponsor unknown.
Suspected of involvement in burglaries and witness intimidation.
Torin Fergus: Believed to be a soldier in the Irish mafia. Sponsor unknown. Suspected
of involvement in several murders, burglaries and witness intimidation.
“Damn. Could be any of them, couldn’t it?”
Scratching the back of her neck, Rita nodded in exhaustion. “Yep. Or it could be
somebody in one of the files we threw aside. Or it could be somebody we’ve never run
across. It could also be a bunch of bullshit, Ray. You know how it works down here.
You get some good info from criminals, but you can’t trust what they say.”
Grunting agreement, he closed the files and slid them into the box at his feet. “Listen, I’
ll help put these away.”
Grinning, she stood up. “Don’t worry about it, Ray. We’ve no shortage of rookies
around here lately. I’ll grab a few of them for the drudge work.”
Standing up as well, he waited until she had signaled at a couple of rookies to come in
and haul the files out. “Thinking of drudge work; why are you here instead of in the
field? I seem to remember saying you’d die before letting them desk you.”
She looked uncomfortable for a minute before she answered. “Come back here with
me for a minute.” Leading him out, she took him into the interview room. Turning her
back to him, she pulled her blouse loose from her slacks and unbuttoned it,
unfastening her bra as well.
When she turned back around, he gaped in horror at what he saw. There were several
knife scars across her breasts and torso, and two puckered bullet scars in her lower
abdomen. “Jesus, Rita! What the fuck happened?”
Refastening her bra, she redid the buttons on her blouse and tucked it in. Shrugging,
she explained, “A sting went bad. I was the bait, and was supposed to buy drugs. Turns
out, we had a rat inside the team. Do you remember J-Ray?”
“Yeah. He always seemed a little strange, but I assumed that was just because of the
amount of time he spent on the street. I would have sworn he was clean.”
“Yeah, well, we all did. Turns out he was working for this dealer. He sold me out. Maybe
a minute into the buy, out came the knives. I don’t remember anything after about the
fifth cut; I think I was knocked out. Anyway, I came out of it a couple weeks later in the
hospital. They’d done everything they could for me there, which left me these nice
souvenirs. I‘ve got an appointment next week with a reconstructive surgeon to see
about making some of that go away.”
“Damn. Why didn’t I hear anything about this, girl? You know I’d have moved heaven
and earth to be there for you.”
With a wry grin she shrugged. “You weren’t exactly in the area then, Ray. This
happened while you were in Afghanistan making the world safe for democracy. When
you made it back, you settled into Major Case, which seems a good fit for you, actually.
Anyway, by the time I had recovered enough to make it back, I didn’t really belong in
the field anymore. I’m not much good in the field when the punks all know who I am. I
was too good to lose, and love the job too much to quit, so we agreed that I’d stay
here. It’s better than nothing.”
“What happened to J-Ray?”
Laughing bitterly she said, “He turned up, about a month after damned near getting me
killed, missing certain body pieces and face down in the river. Nobody knows who
done it.”
Ray shook his head. “Damn. I was his fucking sponsor!” Looking back at her he said, “If
I’d known, I’d have killed him myself.”
“You think I don’t know that, Ray?” Coming over to him she wrapped him in a hug.
“Hell, baby, we were lovers long enough that I know you better than anybody else. Just
because we broke up don’t mean a damned thing. I know damn well you’d move
mountains to help me, and you know I’d do the same for you.” Letting him go, she
linked her arm through his and walked him to the main door. “Now get your ass back up
there and get those bastards. We don’t need that foreign shit making things harder on
us.”
********************
Back at his desk, he glanced at the clock. Looking over at Tru he said, “It’s pushing 1.
Wanna grab a bite?”
Running her fingers through her hair, she leaned back from the computer. “Yeah, I
guess. The DA faxed over the form I needed. I’ll drop it off with the phone company to
get the records faxed to my desk. We can do that on the way out. After lunch, we
probably want to drop by the lab. Maybe Tris and the Crime Scene boys have shaken
something loose for us.”
At the office, Tris went in alone. Stepping up to the window inside, she slammed her
badge against the glass. “I need to talk to a supervisor. Now!”
Once they allowed her in, she seated herself in the office they led her too. After maybe
five minutes, a fat bald man, apparently in his early sixties, walked in. “Could I see
some identification please?” After looking it over, he handed it back and nearly
disappeared behind his desk. “What may I do for you, Detective Ransome?”
Handing over the form, Tru said, “I need these phone records for the past six months.”
Taking the form, he looked at it and shook his head. “I’m truly sorry, Detective, but I
can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“Our customers expect a little privacy. I cannot turn over this information without a
warrant.”
Glancing at the nameplate on his desk, she looked back at his face. “Michael Gilbert
isn’t your real name, is it?”
A sudden look of panic showed on his face. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Squinting her eyes in thought, she started half whispering, “The Gilbert sounds about
right, but it should be the first name, not the last. Gilbert…. Hmm….” Suddenly she
looked directly at him. “Gilbert Randall.” Suddenly a slow smile, reminiscent of Alice’s
Cheshire cat, crossed her face. “Well, well, well. I wonder if your superiors know who
you really are, Mr. Randall.” Relishing the look of panic that had taken over his
features, she smiled even more. Her voice came out in a slow purr. “I used to work Sex
Crimes, Mr. Randall. I know all about you. I wonder if your PO knows you’re here, under
an assumed name.”
“Wh-wh-wh-what do you want?”
“Give me the records. If I get them, I may forget all about you. If I don’t get them… well,
you can kiss this new life goodbye.”
Clearing his throat uncomfortably, he began pulling up the information on the
computer. “Well, Detective Ransome, I’ll have that information for you presently. Do
you just want me to send them over, or would you like a printout?”
“Just send them over. I’ll deal with them later.” When she stood, so did he. “Don’t
bother, Gilbert. I’ll show myself out.” Putting her glasses back on, she went to the car
and pulled out her cell.
While she looked through her phone book, Ray glanced at her before pulling out. “It
didn’t work?”
Laughing, she found the number she was looking for and selected it. “Actually, it
worked perfectly. I’ll explain later.”
As he drove toward the nearest fast food restaurant, he overheard Tru’s part of the
conversation. “Rick?... Yeah, it’s Tru Ransome… Not bad… Is Lacy in?... Can you patch
me through, please?... Lace?... Yeah, it’s me… Listen, I don’t have much time. Do you
remember a case involving Gilbert Randall?... Yeah, that’s the one… Anyway, what
were his restrictions when he was released?... That’s what I thought… He’s working
under an assumed, most likely stolen, identity at the moment, well within that radius… I
just spoke with him actually… He’s working as the supervisor at the phone company
under the name Michael Gilbert… No problem, Lace… Catch ya later.”
Pulling into the parking lot and getting out together, Ray told her, “I don’t think you
need to tell me what happened. I’ve got a pretty good idea.”
“Problem with it?”
“Not really. He’s a perv, and was stupid enough to think you’d actually ignore him as
long as you got what you wanted.”
During the quick lunch, she filled him in on her fruitless desk bound search for
information. “Not a single damn thing, Ray. The MO doesn’t even exist, at least as far
as the database is concerned, and there hasn’t been so much as a fucking drunk and
disorderly in the area.” Biting bitterly into a french fry, she grunted with frustration.
“He’s a fucking ghost, Ray.”
Pulling out his notebook, he tossed it across to her. “Open it to the third or forth page,
Tru. There’s something there that might be important.”
Looking at the notes he’d scrawled earlier, she read through the notes about the three
possible Irish mafia members. “This is from Anti Crime?”
“Yeah.”
“Not much.”
Rolling his eyes, he stifled a groan. “No, it’s not. It is, however, more than we’ve got
without it.”
Handing it back to him, she finished off her sandwich and fries. “True. I’m just saying it’
s not much. Maybe we’ll find something at the docks.”
After he finished his lunch, they took the hour long drive to the docks in relative
silence. When they pulled in, a heavy man met them. “What can I do for you,
detectives?”
Tru took the lead. “Do you know a man named Luke Gallantine?”
Scratching his wind swept hair, he said, “Luke? Sure, ever’body knows Luke. He’s a
good guy. Don’t think he’s here today, though.”
“We know. We were hoping that we could talk to some people around who knows him.”
His narrow eyes turned cold with anger. “Why? Ain’t nobody here gonna badmouth
Luke. He’s good people.”
Ray stepped in. “We understand, Mr…?”
“Huh? Oh, ever’body here calls me Tut, short for Tuthill, on account’a that being’ m’
name an’ all.”
Careful to keep from laughing, Ray said, “All right, Mr. Tuthill, we weren’t actually
looking for someone to say anything bad about Luke.”
“Then why’s you down here?”
Tru stepped back in. “Earlier, Tut, someone murdered Luke and his wife.”
“They was murdered?”
“I’m afraid so.”
Stepping back slightly, he seemed surprised. “That ain’t right. Why’d someone murder
them for? Luke and Marie never did nothin’ to nobody.”
“Believe me, I understand. They were my friends, too. Now do you see why I’d like to
talk to some of the people that worked with him. Maybe they saw someone threaten
him, or knew of someone with a grudge of some sort.”
“Sure, I can let ya talk t’em, but nobody saw nothing’. That’s how it works here.”
Several hours later, Ray and Tru were forced to admit that Tut had been right. They had
talked to better than two dozen people, and nobody claimed to have seen anything that
might have led to the murders. When Ray finally tapped her on the arm, Tru looked
back to see him gesture to his watch. Checking her own she realized that it was
pushing 7 pm. Finishing the last interview, as futile as all the rest, she thanked the
woman for her time and stepped out of the office with her partner.
Climbing back into the car, she tossed her notebook on the dash with frustration.
“Christ. I’d have thought someone would have seen something around here.”
Ray pulled the car into traffic and headed over to the lab. “That’s how it is around
places like this, Tru. That guy, Tuthill, warned us about this.”
“What?”
“He told us that nobody saw anything. Whether they really did or not is immaterial. Luke’
s death, and Marie’s, was a message as much as anything else.”
“Not following here, Ray.”
“It’s fairly simple, although maybe that’s just because of my previous work with the
gang unit and Anti-Crime. Basically, this kind of death is a vengeance killing, but is also
meant as a warning. Someone wanted others to know what would happen if you didn’t
follow orders.”
“And everybody got the message and is clamming up?”
“Pretty much.”
“Fuck.”
Laughing, he turned onto the highway. “Pretty much.”
The ride back to the lab finished in silence
********************
In the forensics lab, they signed in at the front desk and went down to see Tris, who
was finishing some reports at her desk. “About time, guys. I was getting ready to send
out the search dogs.”
Sitting down, Ray laughed. “You have something good for us? We’ve been getting
nothing today.”
Shaking her head, she took a sip out of her coffee. “I already sent my report in. It didn’t
have much. All I was really able to do was confirm what I told you two on scene. Their
heads were literally ripped off of their bodies, which was the cause of death.”
Ray looked at her closely. “Sexual activity?”
Tris smiled a little. “Nothing definite, I’m afraid. There were some indications of recent
activity with the woman, but that may have been her husband. Nothing to indicate a
rapist, and no DNA to go fishing with.”
Tru absently scratched her arm. “Could you figure out how the murders were done?”
“No. Hell, guys, I even had a guy in the crime lab walk through it with me. No human is
strong enough to tear someone’s head off like that. Any animal that could have done
so would also have left marks of some kind on the bodies, and the marks were absent.
The only other thing we could discern was that nothing mechanical could have been
used.”
Tru raised an eyebrow. “Why not?”
“Anything mechanical in nature, sturdy enough to do that, would have been virtually
impossible to get in and out of the house, and would certainly have left trace in the
house. The boys didn’t find any trace.”
“In other words?”
“They died because their heads were violently ripped from their bodies. There is no
reasonable explanation for how this happened, since it is impossible for any means we
can imagine to have been used.”
Walking down to the lab supervisor’s office, Tru stalked slightly ahead. Knocking on
the door, they waited for him to wave them in. After a few minutes answering
questions, they left with no more information than they had entered with.
On the way out to the car, Tru looked at her partner. “This case is really starting to piss
me off, Ray.”
“Sorry?”
“We can’t shake a damned thing loose. Even the fucking crime scene is keeping its
mouth shut.”
“We’ve both solved hard ones before.”
Stopping by the car, she looked directly at him. “Not this hard, Ray, and you damned
well know it.”
Nodding in uncomfortable agreement, he drove her home well she called in to the
station. “Captain?... It’s Ransome. We haven’t got shit, sir… I mean precisely that… Tris
says that the bodies are telling her nothing… Crime scene boys are saying the same
about the house… Anybody at the docks who might have seen or heard anything isn’t
talking either… The phone records?... They were sent over before lunch and I’ll run
through them tomorrow… Yes, sir.”
Hanging up, she turned to Ray. “He told us to get our sorry asses to bed so we could
actually get him something tomorrow.”
Grinning, he pulled into her drive. “I’ll see you tomorrow then. Same time?”
Opening her door, she returned his grin. “Sounds good, Ray.” Turning to head inside,
she stopped and reopened the door. “This one’s going to get ugly, Ray.”
When she closed the door, he found himself admitting that she was probably right. As
she stripped and crawled into bed, he finished the long, dark drive to his apartment.
By the time he finally dozed off, she had been sleeping for a couple of hours.
By: Chris Ward
They’re out there, among us. In the shadows, in the light; we pass them on the street
without a glance, never suspecting, never knowing. Do they even know yet that they are
bound together for a common purpose, a glaring reality, to be extraordinary? And when
destiny does anoint them, how do they hide from it? How long can they dwell in the
shadows, before fate, or their own flawed humanity draws them out into the light? And
how will they know what awaits them, when it finally does? (Mohinder Suresh)
The petite redhead was finishing the last of her morning shower when the bathroom
door slammed open. Standing in the doorway was another woman, slightly taller and
nearly twenty years older. “You about done in here, Gertrude?”
With a startled squeal, Gertrude, who preferred to be called Tru or Trudy, Ransome
ripped the towel off the rack and threw it around her body. When she realized who had
barged in, she sighed in exasperation. Shutting off the water, she said, “Christ, Mom.
Can’t you fucking knock?”
Leaning against the doorframe, her mother, Delilah, smirked. “Why? You think you’ve
got something I haven’t seen?”
Stripping the water from her hair, Tru stepped out of the shower and glared at her
mother. “That’s not the point, and you damned well know it.” At the mirror, she ran a
comb and brush through her hair. “What do you want anyway?”
“That asshole partner of yours is here. What do you want me to do with him?”
Putting the comb and brush away, Tru turned from her mother and stripped off the
towel. After drying herself, she tossed it aside and wrapped herself in a clean one.
Heading into her bedroom, she said, “Ray’s not an asshole, Mother. He’s a good man,
and one hell of a cop. When you get right down to it, he’s probably a better detective
than I am.”
Shaking her head, her mother said, “He’s a Goddamn man, Gertrude. By definition, that
makes him an asshole.”
Rubbing her temples in irritation, Tru counted to ten before replying. “Whatever,
Mom.” Gently pushing her toward the bedroom door, she finished. “Just let him know I’
ll be ready to go in about five minutes.”
After her mother left, Tru dressed. After applying some makeup, she unlocked the gun
safe and carried the contents across to her bed, grabbing a slim belt on the way over.
Threading the black belt through the loops on her dark navy slacks, she secured the
handcuff holster just behind her left hip and her service issue nine millimeter on her
right. Sitting down, she rolled up her pant leg and strapped her backup revolver just
below the curve of her calf.
Pulling the pant leg back down, she slid into a pair of heeled shoes and stood up.
Glancing into the full length mirror across the room, she smoothed the pale blue
blouse she had chosen, and pulled on the suit jacket. Stopping at the dresser on the
way out, she clipped her badge to her belt and slipped on her wristwatch. On the way
down the hall to the front door, she adjusted her gun so that it rode more comfortably
on her hip.
From the front door, she called out, “Ray? Let’s haul.” Waiting for him to make his
appearance, she grabbed her keys and sunglasses.
As she was putting them on, Radulf Taylor came into the hall from the living room. At
six foot tall, he dwarfed his partner by eight inches. In his typical gray suit and tie, he
looked to be the stereotypical big city detective; tough, smart, and not above breaking
the rules to get things done. Grabbing his overcoat from beside the door, he grinned.
“Let’s go.”
Pulling on her own overcoat, an expensive gift from a better-forgotten ex-lover, she
called back, “Bye, Mom. See you tonight sometime.”
Once the car was out of the drive and safely headed to the precinct, Ray glanced over.
“So, what was Dee’s problem today?”
Snorting in disgust, she leaned back and closed her eyes. “Who knows, or cares?
Some guy at her job probably got the promotion she wanted. Combine that with the
rape that brought me along, and you have one seriously fucked up man-hater.”
Laughing, he turned the corner. “You know, Gert, I’ve never actually understood your
reasoning for moving back in with her last year.”
Opening her eyes and looking out the window, she admitted, “I missed the
neighborhood. Despite the problems growing up with a Grandmother suffering from
Alzheimer’s, even despite the fact that Mom can be, and usually is, a Class-A bitch, it’s
home. Not to mention the fact that I was tired in living in that cheap ass apartment my
bastard ex, Max, rented for us. It was time to come home, start over.”
Ray was getting ready to say something else when he saw Tru stiffen in her seat,
peering out the windshield. Following her gaze, he found himself looking at a large
house on the corner. A young woman had just stumbled out the door and was kneeling
on the ground, apparently vomiting. Before he had a chance to say anything, Tru
grabbed the radio. “Command, this is Detective Gertrude Ransome. My partner and I
are investigating a possible disturbance at thirteen, repeat one three, Poplar Avenue.”
Putting the radio back, she caught her partner’s look. As he pulled ahead, she
shrugged. “That’s the Gallantine place. They’re good folks, and that almost has to be
their daughter, Ali.”
When the car rolled to a stop, they both clearly saw that the teenager was covered in
blood. Tru swore and leapt out the passenger door, crossing to the girl in seconds.
With a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach, Ray stepped to the trunk and grabbed a
thin blanket. Once he reached them, he draped it over the girl’s shoulders.
Sticking the bow of her sunglasses between the second and third buttons on her
blouse, Tru wrapped an arm around the girl. “What’s wrong, Ali?”
Ali worked her face against the emotion for a minute before collapsing against Tru with
a wail. “They’re dead!”
Holding the weeping girl against herself, Tru attempted to get some clarification. “Who’
s dead?” After a pause in which Ray watched his partner’s face pale in horror, she
gasped, “Not Luke and Marie?” When Ali nodded against her chest, she looked up at
him. “Can you call this in? I’m going to call someone to stay out here with her.”
Pulling out his radio, Ray stepped away from the two of them and made the call.
“Command, this is Detective Radulf Taylor. We have a double fatality, possibly a double
homicide, at thirteen, repeat one three, Poplar Avenue. Request perimeter control,
Medical Examiner and Crime Scene. Detective Ransome and I will secure the area.”
Putting the radio away, he watched a man and young woman, roughly Ali’s age, walk up
and wrap her in a tight embrace. Pulling him aside, Tru said, “Let it go, Ray. That’s her
best friend, Nell Cosgrove, and her father, Elliot. Let’s check the house.”
Holding their guns at the ready, they entered through the open door. Going through
the family room to their left, they secured each room they entered. After making a
circuit through the family room, dining room and kitchen, they found themselves back
where they had started. On their right was a hall with four doors.
Pulling on gloves they proceeded to check each room. There was nothing interesting
until they reached the master bedroom at the end of the hall. Tru entered first, but
immediately stopped in her tracks. Her face white with a combination of horror and
fury, she could barely force out the words. “Son of a bitch! Whoever did this is fucking
dead when we find him, I swear to fucking God!”
Stepping around her, Ray stopped and stared in horror. The scene brought back
memories of his time as a Marine Sergeant in Afghanistan. The room most closely
resembled a slaughterhouse. Blood was sprayed up the walls and across the ceiling.
The bed was covered in the spatter. The largest concentrations were around the
bodies. And it was those bodies that sent him back to Afghanistan.
The first body was male, presumably Luke Gallantine, and was clad only in his
underwear. He lay crumpled beside the closet, surrounded by a massive pool of blood.
The woman, presumably Marie Gallantine, lay sprawled beside the bed, the tattered
remnants of her nightgown soaked in the blood that surrounded her body.
As bad as that was, the part causing the worst problem for him was the cause of death.
Both bodies had been decapitated, and the murderer had apparently taken the heads
with him. Raising his radio to his pale lips, he managed, “Command, confirm double
homicide at one three Poplar Avenue.”
Working their way back outside, they met the Medical Examiner as she was coming in.
A slightly overweight black woman in her mid-thirties, she was considered a good
friend and sounding board by both detectives. “Hey Tru, Ray; where are my customers
for the day?”
Giving her directions back to the bodies, Ray finished with, “Listen, Tris, be prepared.
It’s ugly back there. We’ll be back with the camera in a couple minutes. Don’t let them
move the bodies.”
As she indicated agreement and entered the house, a furious bellow came from behind
him. “Officer McHenry!” Spinning around, he saw Tru in a towering rage, glaring down
the walk.
Looking in the same direction, he saw what had so infuriated her. Officer Tom McHenry
looked up from where he had apparently been interviewing the nearly hysterical Ali
and Nell, as well as an increasingly irate Elliot.
Although McHenry’s assumption of authority shocked and angered Ray, he was
surprised at the level of fury in Tru’s demeanor and voice. “Up here! Now!”
When he had joined them, Ray jumped in before she could get started. “Perhaps we
should do this inside? Specifically, out of site of civilians?”
Once they were in, Ray closed the door. Before Officer McHenry had a chance to do
more than look confused, he found himself slammed against the wall. Tru, glaring into
his face in with a surprising vehemence, shouted, “Just what the fuck did you think
you were doing out there, Officer?”
“I was interviewing the suspect.”
“Bullshit! You were terrorizing a pair of teenage girls, you damned dickhead! Why were
you sent out here?”
Rolling his eyes heavenward, he confessed, “Traffic control.”
“Then what the hell were you doing fucking around our crime scene, away from your
damned assignment?”
“For Christ’s sake, Gertrude…” Whatever he had been going to say was lost in a
strangled gasp.
Whispering into his ear, which was now down by her mouth, she said, “I can hurt you
far worse than this without the slightest mark, you damned moron.” Increasing the
pressure, she raised her voice. “You will never, even in your filthiest, most perverted
fantasies, call me anything other than Detective. Is that understood, Officer Jackass?”
When he nodded, she released him. “Now, you were saying?”
“There are plenty of cops out there doing traffic. They don’t need me, so I thought I’d
help out here.”
“That is bullshit, asswipe! You thought you’d show us what a good detective you’d
make. Guess what, buddy? You, thank God for small favors, are not a fucking
detective! Do you, by any chance, know why you are not a detective?”
Looking slightly shamefaced, he said, “Because I haven’t passed the exam.”
“And just how many times have you taken the damned thing?”
Closing his eyes, he muttered, “Six.”
“Guess what, genius; you haven’t passed because of one simple reason: You are a
fucking idiot! I’ve never heard of anyone having to take it that often.” Stepping even
closer to him, she said, “You would be the worst excuse for a detective this city ever
had. You are not even a real fucking cop! You’re nothing but a tiny fucking dick with a
badge and gun.” Releasing him, she said, “Now get the fuck out of my sight before I
change my mind about killing you.”
Stepping toward the door, he looked back at her. “Is this revenge for the whole
Parkman situation? I know you wanted to bang him. Had to have hurt when he took up
with that FBI bitch.”
Taking a lightning quick step toward him, she smashed the heel of her hand into his
ribs twice, nearly breaking them. “No. That was for the Parkman situation.” Taking his
chin with one hand, she forced him to look at her, “If you were any kind of man, you
would never have messed around with his bitch-whore of a wife. Then, I guess calling
you a real man is expecting too much. I just wish Parkman had been armed when he
found out.” Releasing his chin, she slammed her knee into his crotch, following that
with a chop to the nerve cluster at the base of his shoulder. Grabbing his hair in one
hand, she forced him to look in her face. “That was for having the balls to suggest that
I was anything like you.” Dropping his head, she wiped her hands clean. “Now get up
and get to work. You’re disgusting me.”
Standing up, he draped his injured arm across his nearly broken ribs. “You can’t get
away with that shit. That was assault.”
This time, Ray spoke up. “It’s only assault if you can prove it, dumbass. Nobody,
including myself, saw a damned thing.”
Muttering under his breath, Officer McHenry went back to his cruiser. Turning to his
partner, Ray shook his head. “Christ, Tru. Did you have to try and kill him?”
“Trust me. If I’d wanted him dead, he wouldn’t be walking now. Let’s go; you get the
camera and I’ll apologize.”
Before she had a chance to say anything, Elliot jumped in. “What the fuck’s going on
here? Why’d you let that asshole grill us like that? He practically accused Ali of
murdering Luke and Marie!”
Closing her eyes in a vain attempt to control her anger, she spoke. “First of all, he’s
finished. He knows that if he even thinks of talking to you three again, he’ll have to
deal with me; and he’s justifiably terrified of me.”
Shaking her head, she continued. “I’m supposed to give you the company line here;
how he’s simply an overzealous officer who went a little further than he should have.
The truth, though, is that he’s an incompetent ass with delusions of adequacy.”
Looking at Ali, she rested a hand on her shoulder. “I am going to have to ask you a few
questions later. It’s part of my job, but I don’t have even the smallest suspicion that
you’re involved. I just need some information.” Looking up as Ray approached from the
car, she finished. “Trust me on this, Ali. We are going to catch the animal responsible,
and we are going to make him pay. You have my word.”
Back inside the bedroom, Ray began taking pictures of the bodies and room, while Tru
spoke with the Medical Examiner. “So, Tris, you have anything for us?”
Laughing as she finished her on scene notes, she said, “Yeah, you could say that.
These poor people seem to have died between six and eight hours ago.”
Tru did the math in her head and gave her a slightly surprised look. “You’re saying
between 11 pm on the sixth and 1 this morning?”
“If that’s the way it works out. I might be able to tell more once I get them on the table.”
Straightening up, she beckoned over to the woman’s body. “You’ll want to see this.
See the raggedness around the separation line, as well as what seems to be an intact
spine?” When Tru bent down and indicated that she did, Tris continued. “That’s the
cause of death. Specifically, they both died because someone literally ripped off their
heads.”
Ray spun around, nearly stepping in the man’s blood. “Ripped off? Don’t you mean
cut?” When she shook her head, he continued, “But how?”
She shrugged. “I wish I knew. The only thing I can positively say is that it is definitely
beyond the capabilities of any of those three out on the walk. Actually, given the
amount of strength and force needed, I suspect it’s beyond the physical capability of
anyone.”
Tru stared at her over the notebook. “You’re saying that nothing human did this?”
“Precisely.”
“What about some sort of animal?”
Rubbing the back of her neck, Tris considered that idea. “There are certainly animals
capable of causing something like this. The problem is that the only animals I can think
of would leave distinctive marks on the bodies, and those marks aren’t present.”
Ray spoke up again. “It would have to be something mechanical, wouldn’t it?”
“That’s all I can really think of, although I can’t imagine the machine built to do this.”
Scratching his chin, he said, “All right. You have work to finish, and so do we. We’ll see
you at the lab.”
On the way to the front door, Tru looked at her partner. “You have a theory, don’t you?”
Lost in thought, he answered, “About the motive only. I can’t even imagine how the
murders were carried out.”
“So what’s your theory?”
“I don’t want to say right now. After we leave, assuming we hear from Ali what I expect,
I’ll tell you.”
When they reached the three still huddled together on the front walk, Ray took out his
notebook and nodded for Tru to take the lead. Gesturing to the front step, she had
them all sit down. “First, Ali, nobody could be sorrier than I am. Luke and Marie were
like second parents to me. Still, I have to ask some questions.” When she nodded, Tru
continued. “All right; I guess we’ll start with where you were last night.”
Holding Nell’s hand, she explained. “Nell’s b’day was yesterday. I went to the party,
because we’ve been BFFs since we were five.” Catching Ray’s puzzled look, she
managed a sad smile. “Best Friends Forever. Anyway, the two of us hung out until
maybe 10 or 11, and I called home asking if I could just stay there. They said okay, but
to get here around 7 or so, in order to get to church.
“I got here around 6:30, I guess, and the house was locked. When I got in, I couldn’t
find either of them, so I knocked on their bedroom door. When nobody answered, I
opened the door. I must have stood there staring for a good five or ten before I ran
screaming outside. That’s when you guys showed up.”
Ali stared into the distance for a minute before asking the next question. “Has anything
odd been going on lately? Weird phone calls; your parents acting strange; anything out
of the norm?”
Thinking about it, Ali started to deny that happening, but stopped herself. “Wait a
minute. There were a couple of strange phone calls last week. The first time, Dad
picked it up and vanished into their room. He was yelling something about either not
paying or not taking the money, something like that anyway. It was kind of tough to
make out. That was maybe a week and a half ago. After that, we got calls every few
days, but Mom and Dad ignored them.”
“Strange phone calls? Anything else?”
“Just that I heard Mom and Dad fighting the other night. I wasn’t supposed to hear
anything, but Mom seemed almost hysterical. She kept screaming something about ‘he’
ll know’. When I asked the next day, they acted like I must have been dreaming.”
Looking into Tru’s eyes, she said, “Does this mean anything?”
“I wish I knew, Ali, I really do. I guess the only other question of real importance is
whether or not you know anybody who might have wanted to do this? I know your Dad
was a shipping manager down by the docks. Was anybody especially mad at him? Or
your Mom?”
“No. Nothing I can think of anyway.”
Standing up, Tru looked back down. “All right, I guess that’s everything. I’ll try to keep
you in the loop, as much as possible, Ali. I’ll have to talk to child services, since you’re
still a minor, but I think I can swing it so you stay with Nell and Elliot.” Putting on her
sunglasses again, she gave her a brief hug and headed to the car.
Pulling out into the street, she looked at her partner again. “Spill! What’s your theory?”
Back in traffic, past the patrol cruisers, he shrugged. “Basically, it comes down to
money. That’s one of the main reasons to kill people; money, sex, and anger. The
killings actually reminded me of what I saw in Afghanistan; only there it was about
religion. That’s not a common problem in LA, although there are a few whack jobs
around. A sex crime would have been more violent, and a crime based on anger would
have been nowhere near as staged. This feels premeditated, and almost looks like it
was a message. That says, to me, that it’s money.”
“All right, assuming you’re right, there’s still the problem of whose money.”
“True. Still, I think we can figure that out. You said Luke worked the docks?”
“Yeah. Where’s this going?”
Turning the corner, he headed to the highway. “I suspect what Ali really heard was
something about some wise guy being unable to pay him off.”
“Wise guy?”
“Mob. It started as a term for a member of the Italian mob, but pretty much means any
mobster now. I know the Russians, Irish and Italians are moving a lot of stuff through
here. My guess is he was given hush money by one or the other of those groups, and
refused to take it. An admirable, but foolhardy, stand on principle. Those that can’t be
bought will be snuffed. It’s how the breed thinks.”
“So we’re looking at the mob right now?”
“Not exclusively, but I think I’ll talk to some of my friends in Vice and Anti-Crime
anyway.”
At the station, he dropped his coat over the back of his chair and dialed out even as he
sat down. Tossing her coat on her desk, Tru entered the Captain’s office when he
signaled to her.
“Sorry about birding on roll, Captain.”
A rough seeming man in his early fifties, he looked exactly like the hardened detective
he had been. “No problem, Ransome. I’d have been pissed off if you hadn’t stopped.”
Indicating a chair, he said, “Have a seat and outline the situation.”
Sitting down, she pulled out her notebook. “Two decapitated bodies at the scene.
According to Tris, the heads were ripped or torn off.”
The Captain choked on his coffee. “Jesus H. Christ! Ripped? How the hell’d that
happen?”
Shrugging, she admitted, “We don’t really know. Tris basically ruled out anything but
mechanical removal, somehow, but wasn’t able to confirm on scene. We’ll hit the lab
later. Hopefully she’ll be able to get some answers when she has them on the table.”
Glancing out his window, he saw Ray taking down a few notes while talking on the
phone. “What’s he up to?”
Putting away her notebook, she said, “Some info popped during the interview with the
daughter. It seemed to hint at possible mob involvement. He’s got some contacts with
Vice, and part of his old team is still with Anti-Crime, so he’s looking for information
that way.”
“All right. What’s next?”
“I’m gonna go ahead and run a state wide search on the MO, and see if anything turns
up. Other than that, I have some calls of my own to make. I have to get in touch with the
DA and see if she can convince the phone company to turn over the records for the
past few months, and then I’m going to grab Ray and head to the docks.”
“Why the docks?”
“The father, Luke Gallantine, worked down there. I’m fairly sure he was a shipping
manager. I want to get in touch with some coworkers, maybe his boss, and get some
info.”
Scratching his head, the Captain worried out loud about something. “This is your
neighborhood, Detective. I’m certain you knew this family. My only concern is this: will
this create problems for you?”
“No sir. It should have no impact on my work solving this murder.”
Looking over his glasses at her through narrowed eyes, he cleared his throat. “I’ll take
your word for that, Ransome. If I think it is affecting you, I’ll have you reassigned.
Understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Very well. Now get out of here and back to work.” As she was heading out the door, he
added, “Keep me in the loop on this, all right.”
With a nod, she closed the door and went back to her desk. She sat down just as Ray
was getting up. “Vice didn’t know a damned thing, but Anti-Crime thinks they might
have something for me. I’m heading down there now, wanna come?”
Pulling up the proper search on her computer, she said, “No can do. I’ve got a crap
load of work to do here. You head down, but let me know if you find anything out,
clear?”
“Got it.” With that, he headed out the back while she keyed the particulars into the
search.
********************
Down in Anti Crime’s headquarters, he found himself encased in a bear hug by a giant
of a man, with a distinctly Australian accent. “Ray! What’s up man?”
Laughing, he patted the man’s back. “Not much, Buzz. How’s the place holding
together?”
“Aw man, you know how it is. One day at a time. Maybe we’ll get enough funding down
here, someday, to really get to work.”
“That’ll be the day. Listen, where’s Rita hiding?”
A small black woman stood up from behind her desk. “Hey Ray! Long time no see. How’
s Major Case treating ya?”
Walking over to the desk, he shook her hand. “Some days are better than others.”
“Ever miss this place?”
“Not really. Too many friends weren’t coming back, Rita. You know that’s why I took the
promotion and split.”
Sadly, she nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I know how it is. The good ones are rare, even
now. Most of your old crew is either dead or doing time.”
“I know. I went to Bob’s funeral, and Nicko’s trial.”
Rita looked closely at him. “I know you didn’t come down here just to shoot the breeze,
Ray. What’ve we got that MC would be interested in?”
Glad for the chance to get down to basics, he moved some files off the chair and sat
down. “We’ve got a problem, Rita. We’ve got a double homicide upstairs that’s looking
mob related.”
Shocked, she said, “Mob? Which one?”
“Not sure yet. Tru’s running an MO search, and I think she’s also getting the DA to
grant permission for us to run the phone records.”
“So what help do you think we can be?”
“I was hoping for an idea of the groups that are making a name for themselves.”
“Damn, boy, ya don’t want much, do ya.”
Shrugging, he said, “I called the Cap, Rita. He said you guys might have something
shaking.”
Leaning back in her chair, she crossed her arms under her breasts. “If you were
anyone else, Ray, I’d tell you to go to hell. You know that, right?”
Grinning, he pulled out his notebook. “I do. That’s why I’m down here and didn’t send
anyone else.” Nodding slightly he finished, “Plus, I do miss the sights and sounds
down here. It may not always have been fun, but it was always interesting.”
“Still the same old Ray. You never did learn to take no for an answer, did you?”
“That’s not how I was raised, Rita.”
“Damn.” Steepling her fingers for a minute, she finally said, “All right. Give me a couple
minutes to get the stuff together.”
“Briefing room?”
“Yeah. It should be clear.”
About ten minutes later, he found himself seated at the briefing table looking over
several boxes of folders that Rita had dragooned several rookies into carrying in.
“Well, this is everything we’ve got.”
“Damn.” Picking up the first folder, he started thumbing through it. “I guess the first
point is to find recent additions to the scene. You know what I’m looking for, Rita. It’s
the same thing we looked for when going after the gangs. New turf wars, a sudden
escalation in the violence, witnesses either disappearing or changing testimony.”
A couple hours passed in silence as they worked their way through the files, sorting
them into two piles. By the time they were finished, fewer than a dozen were in the pile
they were interested in. Rita started putting the others in their boxes. Finishing that,
she sat back down. “Well, that part’s done. What next, Ray?”
“We look for anything that hints one of these guys is down by the docks.”
“You’re joking, right?”
“I wish I was, Rita. I really do.”
“Ray, you know damned well that everybody uses the docks. Hell, even the majority of
the gangs import there.”
“I think I can make it easier. What I’m looking for would be extremely recent. I doubt we’
d need to go further than a couple, maybe four, months. I’m looking for unusual
murders, mostly.”
“How unusual?”
“Well, these two had their heads ripped off.”
“Shit!”
“Yeah. Whoever the doer was took them with him too. I’m thinking it was a combination
message and confirmation.”
“Message to others that might want to betray? And confirmation, you mean the head?
You think the doer took them back to whoever gave the order?”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.”
“All right, I guess. Let’s get to it.” After another half hour or so, they had cut the stack
down to three potentials. “Damn, Ray, these guys are all Irish.”
“Is there anything we can use here?”
“No. None of them are even confirmed. The files were only created because a couple
Russkies told us, through back channels if you will, that these guys were moving in on
their turf. All three are suspected of being involved in a series of murders and high
dollar thefts, but we can’t get anybody to talk.”
Opening the files, he said, “Well, let’s see who we’re looking at here.” Looking at the
suspects in each file he wrote their names down in his notebook, along with a brief
synopsis of what Anti Crime was looking at them for.
Angus Sullivan: Believed to be a soldier in the Irish mafia. Sponsor unknown.
Suspected of involvement in burglaries and witness intimidation; possibly involved in
several murders.
Devnet Cormac: Believed to be a soldier in the Irish mafia. Sponsor unknown.
Suspected of involvement in burglaries and witness intimidation.
Torin Fergus: Believed to be a soldier in the Irish mafia. Sponsor unknown. Suspected
of involvement in several murders, burglaries and witness intimidation.
“Damn. Could be any of them, couldn’t it?”
Scratching the back of her neck, Rita nodded in exhaustion. “Yep. Or it could be
somebody in one of the files we threw aside. Or it could be somebody we’ve never run
across. It could also be a bunch of bullshit, Ray. You know how it works down here.
You get some good info from criminals, but you can’t trust what they say.”
Grunting agreement, he closed the files and slid them into the box at his feet. “Listen, I’
ll help put these away.”
Grinning, she stood up. “Don’t worry about it, Ray. We’ve no shortage of rookies
around here lately. I’ll grab a few of them for the drudge work.”
Standing up as well, he waited until she had signaled at a couple of rookies to come in
and haul the files out. “Thinking of drudge work; why are you here instead of in the
field? I seem to remember saying you’d die before letting them desk you.”
She looked uncomfortable for a minute before she answered. “Come back here with
me for a minute.” Leading him out, she took him into the interview room. Turning her
back to him, she pulled her blouse loose from her slacks and unbuttoned it,
unfastening her bra as well.
When she turned back around, he gaped in horror at what he saw. There were several
knife scars across her breasts and torso, and two puckered bullet scars in her lower
abdomen. “Jesus, Rita! What the fuck happened?”
Refastening her bra, she redid the buttons on her blouse and tucked it in. Shrugging,
she explained, “A sting went bad. I was the bait, and was supposed to buy drugs. Turns
out, we had a rat inside the team. Do you remember J-Ray?”
“Yeah. He always seemed a little strange, but I assumed that was just because of the
amount of time he spent on the street. I would have sworn he was clean.”
“Yeah, well, we all did. Turns out he was working for this dealer. He sold me out. Maybe
a minute into the buy, out came the knives. I don’t remember anything after about the
fifth cut; I think I was knocked out. Anyway, I came out of it a couple weeks later in the
hospital. They’d done everything they could for me there, which left me these nice
souvenirs. I‘ve got an appointment next week with a reconstructive surgeon to see
about making some of that go away.”
“Damn. Why didn’t I hear anything about this, girl? You know I’d have moved heaven
and earth to be there for you.”
With a wry grin she shrugged. “You weren’t exactly in the area then, Ray. This
happened while you were in Afghanistan making the world safe for democracy. When
you made it back, you settled into Major Case, which seems a good fit for you, actually.
Anyway, by the time I had recovered enough to make it back, I didn’t really belong in
the field anymore. I’m not much good in the field when the punks all know who I am. I
was too good to lose, and love the job too much to quit, so we agreed that I’d stay
here. It’s better than nothing.”
“What happened to J-Ray?”
Laughing bitterly she said, “He turned up, about a month after damned near getting me
killed, missing certain body pieces and face down in the river. Nobody knows who
done it.”
Ray shook his head. “Damn. I was his fucking sponsor!” Looking back at her he said, “If
I’d known, I’d have killed him myself.”
“You think I don’t know that, Ray?” Coming over to him she wrapped him in a hug.
“Hell, baby, we were lovers long enough that I know you better than anybody else. Just
because we broke up don’t mean a damned thing. I know damn well you’d move
mountains to help me, and you know I’d do the same for you.” Letting him go, she
linked her arm through his and walked him to the main door. “Now get your ass back up
there and get those bastards. We don’t need that foreign shit making things harder on
us.”
********************
Back at his desk, he glanced at the clock. Looking over at Tru he said, “It’s pushing 1.
Wanna grab a bite?”
Running her fingers through her hair, she leaned back from the computer. “Yeah, I
guess. The DA faxed over the form I needed. I’ll drop it off with the phone company to
get the records faxed to my desk. We can do that on the way out. After lunch, we
probably want to drop by the lab. Maybe Tris and the Crime Scene boys have shaken
something loose for us.”
At the office, Tris went in alone. Stepping up to the window inside, she slammed her
badge against the glass. “I need to talk to a supervisor. Now!”
Once they allowed her in, she seated herself in the office they led her too. After maybe
five minutes, a fat bald man, apparently in his early sixties, walked in. “Could I see
some identification please?” After looking it over, he handed it back and nearly
disappeared behind his desk. “What may I do for you, Detective Ransome?”
Handing over the form, Tru said, “I need these phone records for the past six months.”
Taking the form, he looked at it and shook his head. “I’m truly sorry, Detective, but I
can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“Our customers expect a little privacy. I cannot turn over this information without a
warrant.”
Glancing at the nameplate on his desk, she looked back at his face. “Michael Gilbert
isn’t your real name, is it?”
A sudden look of panic showed on his face. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Squinting her eyes in thought, she started half whispering, “The Gilbert sounds about
right, but it should be the first name, not the last. Gilbert…. Hmm….” Suddenly she
looked directly at him. “Gilbert Randall.” Suddenly a slow smile, reminiscent of Alice’s
Cheshire cat, crossed her face. “Well, well, well. I wonder if your superiors know who
you really are, Mr. Randall.” Relishing the look of panic that had taken over his
features, she smiled even more. Her voice came out in a slow purr. “I used to work Sex
Crimes, Mr. Randall. I know all about you. I wonder if your PO knows you’re here, under
an assumed name.”
“Wh-wh-wh-what do you want?”
“Give me the records. If I get them, I may forget all about you. If I don’t get them… well,
you can kiss this new life goodbye.”
Clearing his throat uncomfortably, he began pulling up the information on the
computer. “Well, Detective Ransome, I’ll have that information for you presently. Do
you just want me to send them over, or would you like a printout?”
“Just send them over. I’ll deal with them later.” When she stood, so did he. “Don’t
bother, Gilbert. I’ll show myself out.” Putting her glasses back on, she went to the car
and pulled out her cell.
While she looked through her phone book, Ray glanced at her before pulling out. “It
didn’t work?”
Laughing, she found the number she was looking for and selected it. “Actually, it
worked perfectly. I’ll explain later.”
As he drove toward the nearest fast food restaurant, he overheard Tru’s part of the
conversation. “Rick?... Yeah, it’s Tru Ransome… Not bad… Is Lacy in?... Can you patch
me through, please?... Lace?... Yeah, it’s me… Listen, I don’t have much time. Do you
remember a case involving Gilbert Randall?... Yeah, that’s the one… Anyway, what
were his restrictions when he was released?... That’s what I thought… He’s working
under an assumed, most likely stolen, identity at the moment, well within that radius… I
just spoke with him actually… He’s working as the supervisor at the phone company
under the name Michael Gilbert… No problem, Lace… Catch ya later.”
Pulling into the parking lot and getting out together, Ray told her, “I don’t think you
need to tell me what happened. I’ve got a pretty good idea.”
“Problem with it?”
“Not really. He’s a perv, and was stupid enough to think you’d actually ignore him as
long as you got what you wanted.”
During the quick lunch, she filled him in on her fruitless desk bound search for
information. “Not a single damn thing, Ray. The MO doesn’t even exist, at least as far
as the database is concerned, and there hasn’t been so much as a fucking drunk and
disorderly in the area.” Biting bitterly into a french fry, she grunted with frustration.
“He’s a fucking ghost, Ray.”
Pulling out his notebook, he tossed it across to her. “Open it to the third or forth page,
Tru. There’s something there that might be important.”
Looking at the notes he’d scrawled earlier, she read through the notes about the three
possible Irish mafia members. “This is from Anti Crime?”
“Yeah.”
“Not much.”
Rolling his eyes, he stifled a groan. “No, it’s not. It is, however, more than we’ve got
without it.”
Handing it back to him, she finished off her sandwich and fries. “True. I’m just saying it’
s not much. Maybe we’ll find something at the docks.”
After he finished his lunch, they took the hour long drive to the docks in relative
silence. When they pulled in, a heavy man met them. “What can I do for you,
detectives?”
Tru took the lead. “Do you know a man named Luke Gallantine?”
Scratching his wind swept hair, he said, “Luke? Sure, ever’body knows Luke. He’s a
good guy. Don’t think he’s here today, though.”
“We know. We were hoping that we could talk to some people around who knows him.”
His narrow eyes turned cold with anger. “Why? Ain’t nobody here gonna badmouth
Luke. He’s good people.”
Ray stepped in. “We understand, Mr…?”
“Huh? Oh, ever’body here calls me Tut, short for Tuthill, on account’a that being’ m’
name an’ all.”
Careful to keep from laughing, Ray said, “All right, Mr. Tuthill, we weren’t actually
looking for someone to say anything bad about Luke.”
“Then why’s you down here?”
Tru stepped back in. “Earlier, Tut, someone murdered Luke and his wife.”
“They was murdered?”
“I’m afraid so.”
Stepping back slightly, he seemed surprised. “That ain’t right. Why’d someone murder
them for? Luke and Marie never did nothin’ to nobody.”
“Believe me, I understand. They were my friends, too. Now do you see why I’d like to
talk to some of the people that worked with him. Maybe they saw someone threaten
him, or knew of someone with a grudge of some sort.”
“Sure, I can let ya talk t’em, but nobody saw nothing’. That’s how it works here.”
Several hours later, Ray and Tru were forced to admit that Tut had been right. They had
talked to better than two dozen people, and nobody claimed to have seen anything that
might have led to the murders. When Ray finally tapped her on the arm, Tru looked
back to see him gesture to his watch. Checking her own she realized that it was
pushing 7 pm. Finishing the last interview, as futile as all the rest, she thanked the
woman for her time and stepped out of the office with her partner.
Climbing back into the car, she tossed her notebook on the dash with frustration.
“Christ. I’d have thought someone would have seen something around here.”
Ray pulled the car into traffic and headed over to the lab. “That’s how it is around
places like this, Tru. That guy, Tuthill, warned us about this.”
“What?”
“He told us that nobody saw anything. Whether they really did or not is immaterial. Luke’
s death, and Marie’s, was a message as much as anything else.”
“Not following here, Ray.”
“It’s fairly simple, although maybe that’s just because of my previous work with the
gang unit and Anti-Crime. Basically, this kind of death is a vengeance killing, but is also
meant as a warning. Someone wanted others to know what would happen if you didn’t
follow orders.”
“And everybody got the message and is clamming up?”
“Pretty much.”
“Fuck.”
Laughing, he turned onto the highway. “Pretty much.”
The ride back to the lab finished in silence
********************
In the forensics lab, they signed in at the front desk and went down to see Tris, who
was finishing some reports at her desk. “About time, guys. I was getting ready to send
out the search dogs.”
Sitting down, Ray laughed. “You have something good for us? We’ve been getting
nothing today.”
Shaking her head, she took a sip out of her coffee. “I already sent my report in. It didn’t
have much. All I was really able to do was confirm what I told you two on scene. Their
heads were literally ripped off of their bodies, which was the cause of death.”
Ray looked at her closely. “Sexual activity?”
Tris smiled a little. “Nothing definite, I’m afraid. There were some indications of recent
activity with the woman, but that may have been her husband. Nothing to indicate a
rapist, and no DNA to go fishing with.”
Tru absently scratched her arm. “Could you figure out how the murders were done?”
“No. Hell, guys, I even had a guy in the crime lab walk through it with me. No human is
strong enough to tear someone’s head off like that. Any animal that could have done
so would also have left marks of some kind on the bodies, and the marks were absent.
The only other thing we could discern was that nothing mechanical could have been
used.”
Tru raised an eyebrow. “Why not?”
“Anything mechanical in nature, sturdy enough to do that, would have been virtually
impossible to get in and out of the house, and would certainly have left trace in the
house. The boys didn’t find any trace.”
“In other words?”
“They died because their heads were violently ripped from their bodies. There is no
reasonable explanation for how this happened, since it is impossible for any means we
can imagine to have been used.”
Walking down to the lab supervisor’s office, Tru stalked slightly ahead. Knocking on
the door, they waited for him to wave them in. After a few minutes answering
questions, they left with no more information than they had entered with.
On the way out to the car, Tru looked at her partner. “This case is really starting to piss
me off, Ray.”
“Sorry?”
“We can’t shake a damned thing loose. Even the fucking crime scene is keeping its
mouth shut.”
“We’ve both solved hard ones before.”
Stopping by the car, she looked directly at him. “Not this hard, Ray, and you damned
well know it.”
Nodding in uncomfortable agreement, he drove her home well she called in to the
station. “Captain?... It’s Ransome. We haven’t got shit, sir… I mean precisely that… Tris
says that the bodies are telling her nothing… Crime scene boys are saying the same
about the house… Anybody at the docks who might have seen or heard anything isn’t
talking either… The phone records?... They were sent over before lunch and I’ll run
through them tomorrow… Yes, sir.”
Hanging up, she turned to Ray. “He told us to get our sorry asses to bed so we could
actually get him something tomorrow.”
Grinning, he pulled into her drive. “I’ll see you tomorrow then. Same time?”
Opening her door, she returned his grin. “Sounds good, Ray.” Turning to head inside,
she stopped and reopened the door. “This one’s going to get ugly, Ray.”
When she closed the door, he found himself admitting that she was probably right. As
she stripped and crawled into bed, he finished the long, dark drive to his apartment.
By the time he finally dozed off, she had been sleeping for a couple of hours.