《C.I.D. - Crime Investigation Detectives》
Adams Pulp Factory
6:05 AM.
The scene of the crime took place behind Adam¡¯s Pulp Factory. It was located far outside the reaches of the big city. The factory itself was busy, but the area around it was either derelict or under maintained. There was a heap of garbage and discarded equipment left in a cluster behind the building. The factory¡¯s neighbour was a former electrical plant, now nothing but a husk filled with squatters, garbage, and shards of broken windows. Even the area layered with concrete and filled with gravel were overgrown with tall grass and thick moss.
¡°...What a waste of a sunny day.¡±
Detective Sergeant Leo pulled up his car near the Adam¡¯s Pulp Factory, in the supply offloading zone. He got out of his car to see a crowd of police officers holding a defensive line against a flurry of curious factory employees and nosy reporters. He made sure to pull out his police ID to show the cordon, allowing him to pass the threshold between the media and the investigators.
¡°Top of the morning Sergeant.¡± An officer in plains clothes came up to Leo and passed him a small cup of coffee, ¡°Eye opener.¡±
Leo rolled his eyes, ¡°What do was have this morning, Jackson?¡±
¡°Hmm. Dismembered body,¡± Constable Jackson adjusted the fedora on his head, ¡°No head, no arms, no legs, not even the hip was spared. Full on Megazord.¡± The Constable paused to take a sip of his coffee, trying to enjoy the taste while it lasted, ¡°Some poor hobo found the pieces in several black bags.¡±
¡°Anything else you found so far? It¡¯s a big yard we¡¯re walking in.¡±
¡°Tell me about it Leo. So, we got a torso, arms, and legs. Still looking for the head and the hips.¡±
Leo nods and he waves his hand to gesture around the area, ¡°Continue canvasing, I¡¯ll get a sit rep with the coroner.¡±
¡°He¡¯s right over there,¡± Constable Jackson would point over at a group of people with masks and gloves on. ¡°Oh by the way. You see that guy over there wretching his guts out?¡±
¡°Another witness? Employee?¡±
¡°The new guy.¡±
¡°...Oh for Christ sake.¡±
¡°Uuuuurrrhk! Aaaaaugh!¡±
Constable McLamb doubled over a rusted railing at the side of the crime scene. To try and save some face, he would hide his face and vomit within a wall of grass, hoping to have the dirt and weeds hide his embarrassment. Unfortunately several other officers would walk by, covering their mouth to hide their smirks more than out of disgust.
¡°...No more, uurk, microwave burritos for eeuurk...breakfast.¡±
A hand reached out next to him, holding a folded tissue. McLamb took it and wiped his mouth, and using the cleaner sides to dab the sweat from his face
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¡°Hey thanks I...Who are you?¡± McLamb turned to see a stranger who had his arms folded and a frown on his face. He noticed the police badge on his chest and looked around, ¡°Which department are you from?¡±
¡°Precinct 23, Team B. Name¡¯s Jacob Leo. You¡¯re sergeant.¡±
¡°SIR! CONSTABLE ARTHUR McLAMB REPORTING FOR DUTY---uuuuuurk!¡±
Leo covered his face, not wanting to accept the reality he was given. He ignored the Constable¡¯s sick noises and focused on hiding his face from his colleagues who all snicker at him and the new guy.
¡°When you¡¯re done flipping your stomach inside out, you¡¯ll be flying with me,¡± Leo mumbled from under his hand, ¡°Quit throwing up already, you¡¯re making me look bad!¡±
McLamb would spit out the rest of his breakfast, before grabbing a bottle of water nearby to wash his mouth. After a few deep breath and a chant to psyche himself, he stood back up to return a weak salute.
¡°I won¡¯t let you down si¡ªhnngfguu...cough.¡±
¡°You already did, come on. The coroner is waiting.¡±
There were a pile of black bags gathered together for the coroner and forensic team to examine each. An incredibly stench filled the air, strong enough to seep through the face masks the specialists would wear and their gloves would be stained in more black than red. Flies were buzzing happily about, so much so it forced the coroner and his assistant to put on safety goggles just to keep them from hitting their eyes. Tar like ooze pooled from the corner of the bags, already crusting to the morning air.
Sergeant Leo and Constable McLamb arrived, only to stagger when the smell hit their nose.
¡°Good morning Detectives,¡± the coroner on site nodded to the two officers and examine the contents of the bag, ¡°The torso belongs to a woman, and based on her body structure should I piece the limbs together would suggest she was of 30 to 35 years of age. Possibly Caucasian. The victim possessed a clover shaped birthmark across the back of her left shoulder and has a surgical scar across her thigh. The scar itself seemed to have healed, so perhaps it was done years ago and not recent.¡± The coroner would reach into the bag and roll the torso around to examine it further, more ooze and stench stirring around, ¡°Judging by the level of decomposition, the victim may have been dead for at least three days. As you can see maggots are already forming in the neck stump and her instest--¡±
¡°UUUUURK!¡±
¡°Constable McLamb, go stand in a corner! Jesus!¡± Leo didn¡¯t bother to look around as McLamb bolted away from the bags and doubled to the side to have another bout of vomiting. The Sergeant would fold his arms to prop his elbow and hold a hand to his nose to try and listen and not have the stench make him lose focus.
The coroner gave Leo a gaze of understanding and continued, ¡°The officers on site were able to locate the arms and legs. After examining them, the method of dismemberment could be a bone saw or a meat cleaver. The murderer may have some finesse in using heavy blades, the bones were cut only two or three times and look relatively clean, suggesting the killer may have experience in chopping bones. Also, please take a look.¡±
Leo crouched down as a full arm was shown to him, ¡°...The fingers are gone?¡±
¡°The killer took great time to cut off each individual fingers including the thumb. So far the other officers have not reported finding any dismembered digits.¡±
¡°W...why not chop the...whole hand?¡± McLamb would gasp as he hobbles back from his bout, ¡°Would, urk, it not be easier to just chop the hand off?¡±
¡°Good question officer.¡± Although the coroner had a surgical mask on, it was clear his cheeks were perking up from a grin, ¡°Why don¡¯t you ask the killer when you see them.¡±
Leo rubbed his face with a groan and slapped the back of his hand across McLamb¡¯s knees, making the rookie clear his throat awkwardly.
== TO BE CONTINUED ==>
Precinct 23
Police Precinct 23 was located in the Northwest District of the big city. A three story complex with multiple rooms for their officers and investigators, ad underground parking to house their police cruisers and disguised vehicle, and sitting right next door to the city¡¯s forensic services building.
Due to the complexity of the Northwest District, officers often deal with acts of homicide, robbery, kidnapping, hacking, blackmailing, missing reports, and so on within a single act of crime. In order to adapt, Precinct 23 is among the ten stations across the big city who deploy plainsclothes detectives to blend into society of high and low while handling cases that evolve on an everyday basis.
They were known as Criminal Investigations Detective, also known as C.I.D.
CID Team B had a conference room with a long oval table surrounding by office chairs with stiff padding. One of the walls was made of all glass, the smooth texture of a smartphone screen. One touch and the glass-wall would light up with an animated police logo and then open a new presentation file, splashing out digital photos of the crime scene at Adam¡¯s Pulp Factory.
Inspector May would quietly shake her head to flick her hair over her shoulder. A light tug to straighten the creases out of her suit pants and she leaned against the computer table with a remote in her hand.
CID Team B consisted of the following: Sergeant Leo with his arms folded and a frown; Constable McLamb guzzling water; Constable Jenny taking notes on her police tablet and smartphone; Constable Jackson as he flipped his fedora in a spin.
¡°Another dismembered victim; the Splitter Strikes again,¡± The Inspector tossed aside her tablet showing her various social media images on the screen, ¡°The news about the body is already spreading across Twitter, YouTube, Instagram, even TikTok of all places. A woman cut up into 7 pieces is definitely catching everyone¡¯s attention.¡±
Inspector May groaned and swept a hand through her hair to brush off the frustration, ¡°The public thinks this is another victim of that serial killer who has been on a rage the last year. This could be his fifth victim. Modus operandi are similar. I want to know for sure if this is the Splitter¡¯s doing, before I pass this case to Precinct 18 who are hunting him down as we speak. So stay sharp and report to me of any new findings, is that clear?¡±
Team B would respond in unison, ¡°Yes, Madam.¡±
Inspector May nodded touched her hand on a blank spot on the glass wall. The display pushed some pictures to the side and opened a scanned document.
¡°Woman, 30-35 years age. Coroner found some old bruises across her leg, a partial bruise across the lower end back side of her torso and several muscle laceration. The victim might have been beaten to death before being dismembered.¡± Inspector May would circle her finger across the bottom of the torso, the screen drawing a red digital circle tracing her finger tip, ¡°What is wrong with this picture?¡±
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Constable Jenny perked her head up from mid note taking, tug back the sleeves of her jean jacket, and raise her hand to speak, ¡°We still haven¡¯t found the victim¡¯s pelvic area. Without it we can¡¯t backtrack any gynecological records she may have.¡±
¡°The, cough, sorry,¡± McLamb looked at half the smart wall and half the table as he gave his report, ¡°Head and fingers still missing. Cough. No way to identify the victim, by facial recognition or, cough, fingermarks.¡±
¡°It¡¯s clear the killer doesn¡¯t want the police to identify this woman,¡± Leo tapped his fingers in his folded arms, ¡°If that was the case, burning the body into unrecognizable ashes would have saved more time and energy.¡±
¡°Which suggests,¡± said the Inspector, ¡°there is an ulterior motive other than senseless artistic killing. The Splitter cuts up the bodies and would scatter each individual limbs in different locations in order to prevent the police from finding every part conveniently.¡± Inspector May then taps at several pictures of the limbs, ¡°For some reason, we found majority of the body parts within the same area. In one sitting we got 70% of the victim. Could be a copy cat who didn¡¯t do his research, or this is the Splitter on a rush job. Constable Jackson, your thoughts.¡±
¡°...¡±
¡°...CONSTABLE JACKSON!¡±
¡°Yo!¡± Jackson bolted in his seat and flip his phone face down to hide the Vtuber he was watching. With a loud clear of his throat, he pulled up his tablet and fix his hat to stall the intensity of the Inspector¡¯s glare, ¡°Forensic checked the body and the limbs. Each of them have matching DNA, so it¡¯s for sure it¡¯s one and the same person. Aaaand...uuh..¡± Jackson would quickly slide his fingers across the screen, trying to find his next train of thought. It didn¡¯t help with Inspector May was tapping her shoe, ¡°Ah here it is! Two, three cuts, Precision! Totally not an amateur! The killer knows his guts, I mean cuts!¡±
¡°...Passing mark.¡± Inspector May grumbled, turning her head away to ignore Jackson smiling like a student being praised, ¡°Specifications of the victim are the following.¡± The Inspector turn to the screen and tapped her finger on it twice. The smart wall would zoom in on a file and she would draw red circles on several numbers. ¡°Height: 160 cm. Weight: 55 pounds. Discernible markings: the clover birthmark on the back of her top left shoulder the side of a palm, and the surgical marking ¨C which the coroner confirms treatment for Deep Vein Thrombosis.¡±
The detectives would take notes, by hand, phone, or by memory. As they record the information, the Inspector provided one last detail to the investigation.
¡°The body was chopped up and stored into separate bags. The Adam¡¯s Pulp Factory is in a secluded sector of the city, however it¡¯s still close to the main highway and joggers have been known to pass by.¡± The Inspector knocked her knuckles across the wall screen, leaving trails of red digital dots across the board, ¡°The Stalker prefer more secluded locations, meaning Adam¡¯s Pulp Factory with drivers, pedestrians, factory employee, and the local homeless would not be ideal. We need answers and we need them fast. It is only a matter of time before we have YouTubers and TikTokers venture out investigating on their own, spinning their own theories and removing evidence to get more views. Now, roll out before they become a viral sensation.¡±
Team B nodded, ¡°Yes Madam.¡±
¡°Pete Sakes. Have more energy like Jenny!¡±
¡°YES MADAM!¡±
== TO BE CONTINUED ==>
Electrical Plant next to Adams Pulp Factory
¡°Sergeant, why are we back here? I thought we searched the whole place this morning?¡±
¡°Proof reading exists McLamb.¡±
Sergeant Leo and Constable McLamb walked back to the scene of the crime. They saw the stains of rotted blood painted on the concrete floor, the spot where the coroner showed them the recovered body parts. Even with the corpse removed the smell of human decay lingered. Not even the fumes of burnt wood and rusted metal could defeat it.
¡°You were first on the scene McLamb,¡± Leo would say as he looked around, a finger under his nose, ¡°What happened here and how was the body reported?¡±
McLamb rubbed his neck as he recollected his thoughts, ¡°The one who called was a man living in the old electronic plant, over there. A squatter. He would wander in the garbage zone, here, to try and find spare parts he can pawn or sell off for food and alcohol.¡± McLamb looked around, then he pointed to the entry way that connected to the highway. ¡°There is one camera at the gate there, but it has been broken for a year. The factory owner didn¡¯t bother to fix it and left it out to deter kids from vandalizing. The killer may have came during the night to dropped the body, no one saw anything three nights ago.¡±
¡°I don¡¯t think this is where the murder took place,¡± Leo shook his head, then directed McLamb¡¯s attention all over the surroundings. ¡°Gravel, grass, rock, metal, rust, there¡¯s junk everywhere but forensics confirmed she had none of the trace contaminates from this place. This mean the victim was killed elsewhere, stored in bags, and then brought here for disposal.¡±
¡°Then why here, Sergeant?¡± McLamb would look back and front of the factory ground, ¡°I mean there is a pond about like 3 blocks down on the South of the road. Not to mention we passed by this construction site along the way, filling in the foundations. I mean, fresh concrete, big large building. It¡¯s the perfect place to hide a buried body and no one would be the wiser.¡±
Leo took a moment to absorb the rookie¡¯s words. He couldn¡¯t resist touching his chin and rubbing out an itch where he shaved this morning. Then he wagged a finger with a thought.
¡°Look around.¡±
¡°S-Sir?¡±
Leo pushed at McLamb to make him walk in one direction as the detective went into another. ¡°There is something we¡¯re missing. Check around for anything we overlooked.¡±
With a confused expression McLamb would tug up his pant legs and put his hands on his knees to lean forward and inspect the ground. He would keep his face and nose away from the black ooze that was there before and try to examine closely at the floor. Leo did the same, crouching down and lifting up any loose newspapers or packaging that were left discarded down the alley.
¡°What are we looking for, Sergeant?¡±
¡°Jenny is already working with another team for missing people reports. Jackson is talking with the unit at Precinct 18 handling the Splitter to get any details on his M.O. So, it¡¯s up to us to look for any breakthrough to speed up the investigations.¡±
¡°Isn¡¯t this like a needle in a haystack, sir?¡±
Leo raised an eyebrow at his partner, ¡°And?¡±
¡°...Yes sir. I will look harder sir. Sorry sir.¡± McLamb slumped his face aside to hide his embarrassment. He distracted himself by flipping over empty bottles with his shoe.
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¡°McLamb,¡± Leo called out without glancing back, ¡°Call me Leo. Never been a fan of formality.¡±
¡°Sir! Yes Sir!¡±
Leo resisted the urge to facepalm. His fingers were covered in dirt and wet newspaper bits.
The old electrical plant used to be a large warehouse like structure that housed various generators designed to produce massive volts of energy to support a sector of the big city. In its prime, it would power traffic lights, shops, houses, even high rise apartments like a boss.
Sadly, those were the good old days. Now with the solar and wind energy plants rolling into the neighbourhood ¨C the turf ¨C the new and young greener economy started to force the old school generators to shut down. Only a few of their brethren survived, the rest of the electrical veterans would then be auctioned off at courts, become the next place for a haunting stream, or a stage to film a post-apocalyptic YouTube film.
Their interiors have been hollowed out. No machines, no capacitors, not even folding chairs, all gone, stripped bare. The only thing filling up the empty spaces were the homeless taking refuge across every floor, each of them marking their own territory and keeping their ¡®treasures¡¯ close by. The squatters keep to themselves, or else they have a rifle pointed at their faces.
Sergeant Leo and Constable McLamb extended their search to near the electrical plant. They kept their distance from the various homeless people sleeping in their tents or drying out their clothing around a dumpster can filled with fire.
¡°Sarge¡ªer Leo would the killer really come this far with body parts?¡± McLamb asked, slapping a mosquito off his cheek. Sadly he missed.
¡°As you can see,¡± Leo reached out a hand to touch the tall grass around them, ¡°the foliage is taller than my chest. Crouching in the night when people are asleep, it¡¯s pretty easy if you ask me. I doubt the killer would carry all the bags together in one go.¡±
¡°Right, they¡¯re heavy...wait, Leo,¡± McLamb holds up a hand with wide eyes, ¡°Each body part are chopped. Even without the head or pelvis, if you put them together they¡¯re would weigh roughly 40 or 50 pounds right?¡±
¡°...Hmm...¡± Understanding his partner¡¯s line of thought Leo nodded, ¡°If the killer moved them one by one from the driveway to this area, there would be multiple random trails. We just found the one that lead to the torso. Each piece was in their own bag, that¡¯s like carrying multiple shopping bags in one hand. Would the murderer be really that stupid to haul all of them. What if the bag broke?¡±
¡°The bags we found were doubled up, Sarg--er ahem.¡±
Leo tapped his chin, ¡°...Definitely not a crime of opportunity or in the spur of the moment. The murderer thought this through. Cut up the pieces, remove the ones police can track a face to, and prepare bags thick enough to make sure the body doesn''t split apart when pooled with flesh and blood. Then they...McLamb look!¡±
The Sergeant patted his hand across the Constable¡¯s shoulder and pointed ahead. They spotted a homeless man with a grizzly and tangled long beard, pushing an old shopping cart full of cardboard. At a glance one of them had a series of red paint like dots the size of a golf ball caked across the brown surface.
¡°Excuse me, sir!¡± McLamb called out. The homeless man with the shopping cart jumped and turned to see both officers coming over. He tried to escape, but McLamb sprung ahead to block him off, hands raised to his shoulder to show no hostility, ¡°Sorry sir, we have a question. Did you.....¡±
McLamb trailed off. The man was making noises, shaking his head and pointing at his mouth. Both officers could see he had no tongue.
¡°Er. Where did you get this?¡± McLamb would pinch the ¡®cleanest¡¯ corner of the cardboard paper with the blood stain. The homeless man hesitated, shuffling to the side. Gripping his pile of cardboard he would gesture his head and hand to point off in the West direction. ¡°Thank you, come on Leo!¡±
Leo was already running towards the direction before McLamb called. The Sergeant would then stagger to a halt when he reached a ravine. Along the way were a series of cardboard boxes, food wrappers, and thick plastic packaging to carry long wooden planks.
It was faint, but he spotted a series of blood that trailed to the edge of the ravine. He peeked over, eyes widening.
¡°McLamb. My car. Get an evidence bag and some gloves. Go!¡±
¡°...YES SIR!¡±
== TO BE CONTINUED ==>
Forensic Building
The Forensic Science Laboratory was located right next to Precinct 23. A large 6 story building that supported various divisions specializing in the field of: blood analysis, DNA profiling, chemical compositions, ballistic studies, computer science forensics, to even possessing their vehicle examination centre. Due to the close proximity between the two buildings, law and science have been able to exchange vital information in a moments notice without delay or longer than usual wait time.
Constable Jenny was given permission to borrow one of their conference rooms. She bowed to each groups of family members who have reported their loved one missing in the past months. Although the room itself was large with 20 or so seats, the family members only took different corners in the room. They would keep their distance from one another, nodding in greeting, while touching their cheeks to wipe away worried tears.
Jenny waited as the last of the visitors took their seats. She couldn¡¯t help but clench her jaw at the sight of people folding their hands in prayer, bowing their head in distress, or covering their mouth in fear of the truth.
The Constable took a deep breath.
Hold it. One...Two...Three.
Exhale. Begin.
¡°Thank you for coming on short notice,¡± started Jenny in a controlled voice, ¡°I apologize we are meeting under such unfortunate circumstances. We¡¯re looking into the case of a dismembered body, believed to be a female between the ages of 30 and 35. We had looked into missing persons reports and,¡± Jenny clenched her jaw too hard, making her slip her speech. She took in a short breath to shrug it off, ¡°and there is a possibility that the victim could be the one you have reported missing.¡±
Worried murmurs and trembling gazes were exchanged amongst the family members. Some fought back their tears, trying to maintain their composure, some trying to calm their spouse by rubbing their backs. Jenny took in a deep breath to continue.
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¡°A severed thumb has been found at the scene of the crime. It¡¯s the only means to identify who the victim is. That is why we asked you all to bring in items your missing loved ones would keep close, use often, and bring them here to the forensic lab. The team upstairs have taken your samples as their top priority. We will hear results within a few minutes.¡±
The Constable gave her audience a moment of silence, to let her words sink in. As they waited with abated breath, she would examine them one by one.
A father and a younger daughter. His head is bowed, his eyes staring at his phone¡¯s wallpaper showing himself, the younger daughter, all embraced by a young woman with a bright and warm smile. The little girl would tug on her father¡¯s sleeve, consoling him believing it might not be her big sister.
A husband. He sat with his arms around his body, clenching his elbows to fight back a shiver. Jaws clenches, sweating across the forehead, lips pursed trying to keep his composure. He would end up bowing forward in his seat, folding his hands and whispering a prayer for his wife¡¯s safety.
An elderly couple. It was the first time coming to the big city. A police cruiser had to be dispatched to guide them from the wrong highway. The woman would fight back tears and the man would hug her small shoulders. They embraced one another, shaking their head in regret for letting their daughter go to the city for college alone.
A pair of young women. One was sitting politely at the table, hands interlink and waiting patiently for the news. The other had her legs tucked to her chest, heels rubbing dirt on the chair she sat in, her hand occupied with a game she muted. The polite one would nudge her friend in the ribs, making the latter roll her eyes and look at something else on her phone to avoid making tapping noises with her designer nails.
~Bing~
A sharp tingling sensation ran up Jenny¡¯s spine. The notification from her tablet was echoed in the silent room. The atmosphere grew heavy on her shoulders when she noticed everyone staring at her. She pulled up her tablet, gave it a few taps with her finger and opened up a file.
Once more, Jenny¡¯s tightened her jaw muscles.
¡°The victim¡¯s name...is Sarah Tucker.¡±
== TO BE CONTINUED ==>
City Morgue
The hospital morgue was located in the basement of the local hospital. Due to the high level of criminal activity, gang fights, traffic accidents, unhealthy lifestyles, and elderly seniors reaching their end time, there were a high percentage of mortality in the city population. Doubling the size of morgues and mortuaries was a standard in the big city.
Sergeant Leo and Constable McLamb would push open the heavy double doors. They felt an arctic chill hit their skin as they walked into the morgue. They held the doors open, to allow the designated family to follow them inside.
The husband walked in alone. The hall outside was empty, no one would be waiting for him. The second he entered the large morgue, he was hit with a violent chill and he kept patting his arms to warm up. Despite the chill, a cold sweat grew on his forehead, his eyes darting around at the different locker bodies he passed by. The steam from his breath kept puffing out clouds that would freeze in the air around him.
Constable McLamb heard the shuddering and turned to the husband, ¡°Will you be alright, Mr. Tucker? Do you need to call anyone to be with you or?¡±
¡°N-no.¡± The husband shook his head, rubbing his arms to fight off the cold, ¡°Neither m-my wife and I have any relatives in the city. N-no kids, s-since we¡¯re always busy with work. Even if we have friends, n-none of them would be close enough to come here, you know...I mean...¡± He made a small gesture with his eyes looking around the morgue, at the body lockers.
McLamb¡¯s jaw clenched for a brief moment, ¡°Right. Well, if you need anything, please do not hesitate and ask for help. Alright sir?¡±
¡°Th¡ª¡± The husband choked after breathing in cold air. ¡°Thank you, officer. I will m...try to manage.¡±
It would take the group a couple of minutes to walk through the vast chamber, their feet wading through a thin layer of frosty mist spilled across the floor. Sergeant Leo would count the labels on each storage unit, until he spotted the one they were looking for. He and the Constable would stand flanking that unit, and they turn to the family member.
¡°Mr. Frank Tucker,¡± Sergeant Leo nodded, ¡°What you are about to see is someone close to you being dismembered into pieces. We have yet to find a head. The sight itself may not be something you could stomach. We know it will be difficult, but we¡¯re counting on your cooperation to confirm the victim¡¯s identity. Do you understand?¡±
The husband hugged his body with his arms. His hands would clench at his elbows as he takes slow and steady breaths. His feet would shift, and lean their weight to one side after another in the mist of frost on the ground. He would suck in his lips, turning them white as he clenches them, and he returned a hesitant nod.
¡°I am ready, detectives.¡±
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Sergeant Leo took a step back to give the husband some space. He then gestured to McLamb, who blinked back and pointed to himself with dreaded realization. Hiding his reluctance with a cough, McLamb approached the storage unit and opened it.
The lid popped back, sliding out a railed gurney supporting a body bag on a makeshift locker bed. A plume of frosty clouds spilled out from inside and the cold bit harder into McLamb¡¯s skin with the precision of a leaping viper. After taking a short breath in, he pinched the zipper and give it a slow and gentle tug.
Although the corpse was preserved in low temperature to prevent further decay, McLamb could still smell the body. Not wanting to flip his stomach inside out, he would open the bag a little wider and stepped back, gesturing the family member to witness the body.
Frank Tucker kept shielding his body with a wrap of his arms. His body turned away when the storage unit was pulled open. He could not stop facing the wall, waiting until the Constable was done. When he heard silence, his jaw clenched and he began to turn his head.
The husband would make shuffling steps, to inch himself closer to the open gurney. He would try and tip toe to peer over the ledge, to spy into the black body bag. He saw a severed arm, causing him to clench his eyes and braced himself.
After a 5 minute pause, he inched closer with his body turned away and his one eye peeking from an angle. Seeing the torso, he couldn¡¯t handle it and shut his eyes to turn his back around.
¡°It¡¯s her,¡± Frank Tucker breathed, doubling over and gripping his mouth a bit, ¡°It¡¯s my wife.¡±
Sergeant Leo would glance between him and the body, ¡°I apologize for formality. Could you confirm her full name for the record.¡±
¡°It¡¯s Sarah. Sarah Anne Tucker.¡± Frank Tucker¡¯s face started to cringe up, nose flaring, lips quivering. He gripped at his heart as he stumbled, tears falling out from his eyes. ¡°I-it¡¯s definitely Sarah. She, she has a birthmark, r-right here.¡± The husband would reach a hand over his shoulder, tapping a finger across his left shoulder blade.
¡°An-anything else, sir?¡± McLamb would ask, keeping his head away from the open bag, ¡°this is your wife we¡¯re talking about. Any other defining features you wish to confirm?¡±
¡°She,¡± The husband sniffed back tears, wiping them from his eyes and nose and rubbing it on his sleeve, ¡°she has a surgical scar, on her leg. It¡¯s her. Terrible...just terrible. Oh my god, I can¡¯t breathe.¡±
¡°Do you need a minute to--¡±
Before McLamb could finish his sentence, Frank Tucker was already shuffling towards the exit. Head bowed, gripping his forehead in rejection, tears drenching his palm. With a coughing heave, he pushed his shoulder against the door, but struggled to push it open.
Sergeant Leo ran over to use his own weight to heave the heavy doors. He watched as the husband stumbled out into the hall and ended up sitting on the floor with his back against the wall. Knees to his chest, making haggard wheezes, he fumbled for his pocket.
Mr. Tucker pulled out an inhaler and his shaking hands slipped from pulling the cap. Once he opened it, he shoved it into his mouth and pressed the button with a white knuckle thumb. A sharp inhale. Several breaths, in and out, and color started to return to his face.
Leo could only watch in silence as the husband curled up to hug and rub his arms to fight a cold only he knew.
== TO BE CONTINUED ==>
Blackberry Heights
Blackberry Heights was a 10 floor apartment complex that stood at the corner of Applecross Road and 7th Avenue. Although it was an old building born from brick and mortar, one of the selling point about the place was that each unit would look fundamentally different in material. Some rooms have polished wooden floors, concrete walls, or even the whole unit were made out of faux marble to give it a classy look.
Constable Jenny and Constable Jackson exited the elevator at floor 5 and looked around. The halls were wide and spacious, each end of the hall had three doors leading to their respective apartments.
¡°So!¡± Jackson looked between both hallways, eyeing their apartment numbers, ¡°Why are we here again?¡±
¡°To get an interview from Mr. Tucker,¡± Jenny sighed while adjusting her jean jacket, ¡°Leo said the husband was too distraught to get anything out of him after the visiting the morgue. The sergeant wants us to get as much information as possible, as well as the husband¡¯s alibi.¡± Jenny perked her head up, tapping a fist into her palm with an, ¡°Ah right. And to gather DNA samples from the Tucker residence. Hair, tooth brush, anything.¡±
¡°Why bother? Didn¡¯t the guy confirm the body was his wife?¡±
¡°Leo told me he had doubts. He wanted to be extra sure. Forensics sure.¡±
Jackson rolled his eyes and plucked his fedora to give it a playful spin, ¡°Got to hand it to the Sarge. Always paranoid, 10/10.¡± He then tossed his hat back onto his head and make texting gestures with his thumbs, ¡°Comment on Yelp: would ask for conspiracy theories again.¡±
Jenny frowned with a disappointed stare, ¡°If McLamb said that, I would understand. But you and I know Leo long enough to figure out how he thinks. If the sergeant asked us to get evidence to confirm a doubt, we will do so.¡±
¡°Alright. Alright. But I¡¯m telling you all this triple checking is a waste of tax payers mon¡ªSWEET JESUS!¡±
A door right next to Jackson suddenly swung open, startling him hard enough for his hat to fall off. After picking up his fedora, the Constable would see a figure walking out of the open door. ¡°...Wait you¡¯re him. Frank Tucker.¡±
¡°Who are you?¡± Mr. Tucker paused before he could close his door. He took one cautious step back, before Jenny stepped into his vision, ¡°Oh you¡¯re the officer lady the other day at the forensics building. Uuuh...Jasmine.¡±
¡°Constable Jenny, C.I.D.¡± Jenny cleared her throat, ignoring her partner¡¯s snickers, ¡°This is Constable Jackson, we are the same investigation team as Sergeant Leo and Constable McLamb you met previously. We hope to take your interview today.¡±
¡°By the way,¡± Jackson finished his chuckle and gave Mr. Tucker a look over, ¡°Uuuuh. You look...awfully sharp in that suit. Party?¡±
Mr. Tucker shook his head. He adjusted his well pressed suit with a hesitant tug and hefted a heavy looking leather briefcase in one hand, ¡°No. I¡¯m heading out to work. I own a furniture factory.¡±
¡°...Dude, you just saw your wife¡¯s dead body yesterday.¡±
¡°Ja¡ª! ¡± Jenny slapped Jackson in the arm, shooting a glare at him. She then turned to the husband to bow, ¡°I-I am so sorry for my partner¡¯s rudeness!¡±
Mr. Tucker fell silent from their words, his eyes glancing between them. He ended up staring at a wall nearby, the Adam¡¯s apple in his throat bobbing, ¡°Yes, I know. My wife is gone. I still can¡¯t believe it to be true. B..but I still have over 80 employees and we¡¯re hitting a rough time.¡± Mr. Tucker took a moment to rub his mouth and jaw with a sigh, ¡°Ever since Sarah disappeared, I had been absent from work. Now that you found her, I have to return to my duties. They need my leadership.¡±
Both officers exchanged subtle glances at each other. Just as Jackson opened his mouth, Jenny intercepted with, ¡°I am sorry, for your loss. We hope you could spare a moment for some questions.¡±
¡°Uh. Erm...Alright yes. I can. Come in. Watch your step.¡± Mr. Tucker would nod and opened the door to his apartment, ushering them in.
The Tucker resident was a small but cozy unit with a high ceiling. A living room, dining room, kitchen nook, a master bedroom, and a single bathroom with a mixed bathtub and shower. The walls were made of faux marble and embroidered with fake gold, giving it an expensive feeling when the Constables entered. As it was day out, the sunlight bouncing off the polished surfaces made the room bright as fluorescent bulb.
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Jenny would take off her shoes, nearly putting them to the side. Jackson would march right in, shoes on. Mr. Tucker led them to the living room space, gesturing them to have a seat on the couches. There were two sets, one was a love seat facing the TV and a single that was placed to the side near the apartment window. As Jenny sat down, she noticed the glass-top coffee table in front of her and her partner.
It has some TV remotes, their rubber buttons worn out to the point where numbers and letters have gone missing. A pair of silver coasters with images of swan couples engraved onto the surface. There was also a pile of newspaper and magazines with the following headlines.
[BODY RECOVERED FROM THE DUKE RIVER, IN SEVEN PIECES!?]
[DISMEMBERED WOMAN DISCOVERED BEHIND THE POST OFFICE! THE SPLITTER STRIKES AGAIN?]
[THREE HEADS FOUND IN TAMPA PARK! SPLITTER¡¯S CHALLENGE TO THE POLICE]
Before Jenny could speak up, Jackson leaned forward with an impressed whistle. ¡°You got yourself a real cozy place. You make a killing at your furniture job? How much is the rent?¡±
¡°Jackson! Please!¡± Jenny would hit her partner in the arm and turned back to the husband, ¡°I apologize, so much, Mr. Tucker. While I take your interview - in private - would you allow Constable Jackson to collect some DNA samples from your wife¡¯s affects?¡±
¡°Yes, of course.¡± The husband would give a weary nod, gesturing a hand, ¡°By all means. If this helps to solve the case, I am willing to cooperate.¡±
¡°Thank you so much,¡± Jenny would nod, then shove Jackson to his feet. With a shrug, the second Constable would wander around, checking the rooms. Jenny adjusted her jean jacket and cleared her throat, a professional air around her. ¡°I understand you wish to know the details of what happened. I will talk to my inspector, and ask for permission to give you as much update as possible.¡±
Mr. Tucker smiled, a grateful nod, ¡°I really appreciate it officer. You have questions for me? I apologize for before, I am ready to answer.¡±
Jenny returned the gesture with a light bow. Once Jackson was out of eye and ear shot, she would pluck out a voice recorder from her jacket pocket and hit the record button.
¡°Mr. Frank Tucker. Please tell me, what happened prior your wife¡¯s disappearance.¡±
The husband rubbed his jaw, ¡°It, it all started with an argument.¡±
¡°Sarah and I have been married for over 20 years. We are about...sorry, we were about to celebrate our 22nd anniversary in a few weeks. Our marriage was born from rebellious love and a whirlwind emotions. Good times, now that I look back. But, I think you and I both know, when you live with the same person for that long, little problems start to show up...
...We bickered, from time to time. I mean, what married couple wouldn¡¯t have a lover spat. At the end, either one of us would apologize and make it up to them. 20 years marriage, not something you can give up so easily. Compromise, compromise, compromise...However, I screwed up.¡±
Frank Tucker took a moment to rub his mouth more, his eyebrow furrowed. He couldn¡¯t stop glancing at the magazine on the coffee table, all reporting about the dismembered body. He looked away, covering his quivering lips.
¡°On the night she disappeared, we argued, badly. It was about money. As I mentioned, I own a furniture company. I saw much success at the beginning, built it from the ground up. But with the rise of Amazon, eBay, even over seas companies with cheaper labour and materials ¨C things just went from bad to worse. Sarah was upset, I spent too much money to keep the company afloat. I..I even put our apartment on mortgage ¨C just when we paid it off.¡±
Frank Tucker rubbed his eyes with his palms, pressing the tears out from them with a disappointed shake of his head.
¡°I went to pick her up after her night shift at the hospital, like I always do. On the drive home she told me to just give up and close the business. I told her, ¡®honey, I can¡¯t do that. What about all my workers. They got family too¡¯. One thing led to another, I raised my voice at her, I said things I shouldn¡¯t have and she just...She forced me to stop the car and got out.¡±
The husband flipped his hands up with a shameful shrug.
¡°I messed up. I should never had left her alone. I was angry, I didn¡¯t want to talk to her then, so I just drove around town to cool my head. When I calmed down I went back to the apartment. Lights were off. Checked the bathrooms and the room, empty. I waited for hours, any sign for Sarah to come back home but...¡±
The husband covered his mouth with both hands now, pressing his lips shut.
¡°I reported to the police that she was missing. I called her friends, co-workers, even visited the places she would likely go to. Nothing. I even went to my in-laws to check, and they hate my guts. Then I came across the news, about the Splitter. I never paid attention to it until now. The thought my wife could have been a victim just...¡±
Frank Tucker gripped his heart, shaking his head in denial.
¡°I didn¡¯t want to believe it, but the more I kept waiting the more my mind wandered. She would have called me, even if she was living somewhere else. Still nothing. Not even a text, or voice mail... Officer, it¡¯s all my fault this happened. I started this. I caused my wife to die. I realized my mistake when I saw her body at the morgue. I...¡±
Frank Tucker gave a deep inhale, choking back on some tears welling up in his eyes. He doubled over, elbows on his knees, hands cupping his mouth in a makeshift prayer. Unable to fight back the emotions in his body, his eyes cringed and he bowed his head in shame.
¡°It¡¯s my fault Sarah is dead. All chopped up and tossed like garbage... Officer. Please, promise me you¡¯ll catch the killer. Make them pay!¡±
== TO BE CONTINUED ==>
Elevator Hall of Blackberry Heights
The interview was over. Constable Jenny and Constable Jackson got what they needed, alibi as well as some hair samples from the Tucker resident. The two officers leaned against the wall of the fifth floor hallway, waiting for their elevator. It was slow, stopping at every floor before theirs.
While waiting, Jenny gave a small sigh. Then busied herself by swiping a backhand across Jackson¡¯s chest. ¡°I ¨C cannot ¨C BELIEVE YOU!¡±
Jackson looked at where Jenny struck him. With a flat face, he brushed the dust off his shirt, ¡°Look. Jeans. When you got to go, you got to go! What? I ain¡¯t gonna toot my trombone in the middle of the room and say ¡®Sorry had breakfast burritos this morning¡¯. That would be too awkward.¡±
¡°Could you, at the very least, hold it until AFTER our duties!?¡± Jenny resisted the urge to full tilt yell in the apartment hallways. Not wanting to scare any children inside, she could only suppress her frustration with a groan and covering her eyes with shame, ¡°The man lost his wife, his company is hitting a slump, relies on an inhaler, and he cried during the interview! I feel absolutely TERRIBLE for this man ¨C and you go and leave a stinky in his toilet!?¡±
¡°Gurl,¡± Jackson raised a hand to adjust his fedora hat that slipped on a tilt, ¡°if you have a habit of holding in number 2 for hours, you got health issues. I¡¯m an officer of the law, not RoboCop.¡±
Jenny spun on her heels to turn her back on Jackson. One, it was the most polite way of saying go screw himself. Two, she can¡¯t handle the intense feeling of embarrassment in her small body.
¡°Relaaax, Jeanny Jeans. The guy is fine, I¡¯m sure. He¡¯s already got a back up plan.¡±
¡°My brain hurts too much to understand your cryptic sarcasm. What are you suggesting?¡±
¡°Be thinkin he¡¯s got another girl in mind,¡± Jackson would rub his chin with a cheeky grin, ¡°I mean, I noticed he switched out his wife¡¯s old towels with a brand new one. Even her own toothbrush is fresh from the box. Guessing he¡¯s got an opening for a new babe...or boy if he¡¯s a switch hitter.¡±
Jenny closed her eyes. She would take several deep and calming breaths, before swinging her police tablet to smack Jackson all over. A game of whack a mole!
¡°YOU ¨C ARE ¨C THE ¨C WORST!¡±
¡°OW! STOP! AAGH! POLICE BRUTALITY! POLICE BRUTA¡ªAAHG!!¡±
¡°Pfffft.¡± A sound came around the corner, suppressing the urge to laugh. Both Constables stop their war, and peered around.
A housewife was hiding behind the corner of the hall. The mole on her upper lip curled up with her sly smirk, full lips painted in velvet quivered to keep from laughing, and her extended eyelashes battering. She took a moment to carefully wipe a tear before it ruined her eyeliner.
¡°You two married?¡± the housewife asked in a teasing tone.
Jenny covered her mouth, ¡°Please miss, no.¡±
Jackson tipped his hat over his eyes, ¡°No way ho-zay, lady.¡±
¡°Gooood.¡± The woman laughed and pulled out a cigarette, ¡°If I were you, sugar, I¡¯d thiiink real hard before either of you be gettin hitched. Don¡¯t want to see you warring like them Tuckers every day.¡±
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¡°So, about the Tuckeeeeeeeers?¡±
Jackson slid over to lean right next to the housewife. With a flick of a hand, a lighter appears in his palm and he helped to light the woman¡¯s cigarette. She took in a deep drag, part of the cigarette tip turning into ashes, and she exhaled a thick cloud. Jenny took a step back to avoid getting hit by the trail of smoke, flattening her nostrils to block the smell.
¡°Oh don¡¯t mind me sugar,¡± the housewife laughed and took another drag, ¡°My hubby isn¡¯t a fan of the old smoke and cigar. Grocery shopping is the only time I can relief myself. Now, where did little ol¡¯ me trail off at ¨C aaaaah yes..¡±
Jackson nod, paying close attention to her with a friendly chuckle. Jenny tried not to cough too loud and pulled out her phone to start taking notes. The housewife took another long drag, giving out a happy and relaxed exhale that filled up the hall.
¡°Them Tuckers. They¡¯re always at it. They¡¯ve lived here longer than me and my hubby and there hasn¡¯t been a day I don¡¯t hear them yelling at each other. All that arguing would make even court case drama look like a cheap soap opera.¡±
¡°You know them well?¡± Jackson wondered as he adjusted his fedora, ¡°how close?¡±
¡°Oh heaven forbid, I don¡¯t even wanna go near them.¡± The housewife makes a huff and folds her arms, the cigarette in her fingers dripping ash on the polished floor ¡°Just your regular hi and good bye, they don¡¯t even give me or my hubby the time of day. Every time the Tuckers leave their apartment, they can¡¯t even look at each other in the eye. I even seen Mr. Tucker take the stairs and Mrs. Tucker the elevator at the same time.¡±
¡°Do you know what they argue about?¡± Jenny asked as he typed on her phone, waving her hand to fight off the smoke, ¡°Other than meeting them at the door way what else do you see about them?¡±
¡°Oh honey, wait till you see them reaally go at it,¡± the housewife laughed, but covers her mouth when she felt she was too loud and continued in a gossiping hush. ¡°I see them duke it out. Yeah, I watch them through my kitchen window. When they get reaaal angry, they start throwing fists and slaps. They always cause a ruckus. Seen Mr. Tucker throw a chair at the ground to threaten her. Reaaal bad. It gets so wild, I couldn¡¯t take my eyes off them while I have some popcorn.¡± The housewife paused when she sees Jenny staring at her, ¡°What? Can you blame me? Sure married life is all posh, but it can sometimes be just boring. I woman¡¯s got to have her entertainment to keep the family together, no?¡±
A shrug and the woman waved her cigarette hand to the other apartment doors. ¡°My guess everyone here must be used to them Tuckers. No one here made so much as a peep to management to complain. Not gonna lie, them Tuckers look like a real mess no one wants to touch.¡±
The housewife took another puff, already halfway through her cigarette. With one tap of her finger a large clump of ash would drop on the floor
Jenny cringed at the sight. In the end she composed herself to ask, ¡°When was the last time you saw them argue? Did you see Mrs. Tucker ever come back?¡±
¡°Hmm...about two weeks ago. I caught a glimpse of Mr. Tucker coming home alone around that late at night looking mighty exhausted. Since then I haven¡¯t caught a beep of Mrs. Tucker and¡ªWait wait wait.¡± The housewife then realized something and put the cigarette to her lips in defence, ¡°Which unit number you say you¡¯re from again?¡±
The Constables exchanged glances, then pull out their police ID to say, ¡°C.I.D.¡±
¡°O-oh my would you look at the time. I have to go pick up the kids.¡± The housewife rush to the elevator to press the buttons. When it was too slow she returned an awkward laugh and booked down the stairs. Nothing but the sound of her stiletto shoes tapping wildly down the steps could be heard, like nails rattling a keyboard.
It was in this moment, the elevator finally arrived. Jackson stepped in first and pressed the ground floor. As it closed, he suddenly reached out to stop it from shutting. ¡°Yo. Jeans, you coming?¡±
When he poked his head out from the gap, he could see Jenny crouched down to pick up the ashes and cigarette butt with a tissue, throwing it out to a nearby garbage can with an ash holder. Wiping her hands with sanitizing alcohol, she would step into the elevator and stand in a corner in silence all the way.
¡°Clean freak.¡±
¡°Slob.¡±
== TO BE CONTINUED ==>
Forensic Building
The Forensic Science Laboratory was located right next to Precinct 23. A large 6 story building that supported various divisions specializing in the field of: blood analysis, DNA profiling, chemical compositions, ballistic studies, computer science forensics, to even possessing their vehicle examination centre. Due to the close proximity between the two buildings, law and science have been able to exchange vital information in a moments notice without delay or longer than usual wait time.
Constable Jenny was given permission to borrow one of their conference rooms. She bowed to each groups of family members who have reported their loved one missing in the past months. Although the room itself was large with 20 or so seats, the family members only took different corners in the room. They would keep their distance from one another, nodding in greeting, while touching their cheeks to wipe away worried tears.
Jenny waited as the last of the visitors took their seats. She couldn¡¯t help but clench her jaw at the sight of people folding their hands in prayer, bowing their head in distress, or covering their mouth in fear of the truth.
The Constable took a deep breath.
Hold it. One...Two...Three.
Exhale. Begin.
¡°Thank you for coming on short notice,¡± started Jenny in a controlled voice, ¡°I apologize we are meeting under such unfortunate circumstances. We¡¯re looking into the case of a dismembered body, believed to be a female between the ages of 30 and 35. We had looked into missing persons reports and,¡± Jenny clenched her jaw too hard, making her slip her speech. She took in a short breath to shrug it off, ¡°and there is a possibility that the victim could be the one you have reported missing.¡±
Worried murmurs and trembling gazes were exchanged amongst the family members. Some fought back their tears, trying to maintain their composure, some trying to calm their spouse by rubbing their backs. Jenny took in a deep breath to continue.
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¡°A severed thumb has been found at the scene of the crime. It¡¯s the only means to identify who the victim is. That is why we asked you all to bring in items your missing loved ones would keep close, use often, and bring them here to the forensic lab. The team upstairs have taken your samples as their top priority. We will hear results within a few minutes.¡±
The Constable gave her audience a moment of silence, to let her words sink in. As they waited with abated breath, she would examine them one by one.
A father and a younger daughter. His head is bowed, his eyes staring at his phone¡¯s wallpaper showing himself, the younger daughter, all embraced by a young woman with a bright and warm smile. The little girl would tug on her father¡¯s sleeve, consoling him believing it might not be her big sister.
A husband. He sat with his arms around his body, clenching his elbows to fight back a shiver. Jaws clenches, sweating across the forehead, lips pursed trying to keep his composure. He would end up bowing forward in his seat, folding his hands and whispering a prayer for his wife¡¯s safety.
An elderly couple. It was the first time coming to the big city. A police cruiser had to be dispatched to guide them from the wrong highway. The woman would fight back tears and the man would hug her small shoulders. They embraced one another, shaking their head in regret for letting their daughter go to the city for college alone.
A pair of young women. One was sitting politely at the table, hands interlink and waiting patiently for the news. The other had her legs tucked to her chest, heels rubbing dirt on the chair she sat in, her hand occupied with a game she muted. The polite one would nudge her friend in the ribs, making the latter roll her eyes and look at something else on her phone to avoid making tapping noises with her designer nails.
~Bing~
A sharp tingling sensation ran up Jenny¡¯s spine. The notification from her tablet was echoed in the silent room. The atmosphere grew heavy on her shoulders when she noticed everyone staring at her. She pulled up her tablet, gave it a few taps with her finger and opened up a file.
Once more, Jenny¡¯s tightened her jaw muscles.
¡°The victim¡¯s name...is Sarah Tucker.¡±
== TO BE CONTINUED ==>
Blackberry Heights
Blackberry Heights was a 10 floor apartment complex that stood at the corner of Applecross Road and 7th Avenue. Although it was an old building born from brick and mortar, one of the selling point about the place was that each unit would look fundamentally different in material. Some rooms have polished wooden floors, concrete walls, or even the whole unit were made out of faux marble to give it a classy look.
Constable Jenny and Constable Jackson exited the elevator at floor 5 and looked around. The halls were wide and spacious, each end of the hall had three doors leading to their respective apartments.
¡°So!¡± Jackson looked between both hallways, eyeing their apartment numbers, ¡°Why are we here again?¡±
¡°To get an interview from Mr. Tucker,¡± Jenny sighed while adjusting her jean jacket, ¡°Leo said the husband was too distraught to get anything out of him after the visiting the morgue. The sergeant wants us to get as much information as possible, as well as the husband¡¯s alibi.¡± Jenny perked her head up, tapping a fist into her palm with an, ¡°Ah right. And to gather DNA samples from the Tucker residence. Hair, tooth brush, anything.¡±
¡°Why bother? Didn¡¯t the guy confirm the body was his wife?¡±
¡°Leo told me he had doubts. He wanted to be extra sure. Forensics sure.¡±
Jackson rolled his eyes and plucked his fedora to give it a playful spin, ¡°Got to hand it to the Sarge. Always paranoid, 10/10.¡± He then tossed his hat back onto his head and make texting gestures with his thumbs, ¡°Comment on Yelp: would ask for conspiracy theories again.¡±
Jenny frowned with a disappointed stare, ¡°If McLamb said that, I would understand. But you and I know Leo long enough to figure out how he thinks. If the sergeant asked us to get evidence to confirm a doubt, we will do so.¡±
¡°Alright. Alright. But I¡¯m telling you all this triple checking is a waste of tax payers mon¡ªSWEET JESUS!¡±
A door right next to Jackson suddenly swung open, startling him hard enough for his hat to fall off. After picking up his fedora, the Constable would see a figure walking out of the open door. ¡°...Wait you¡¯re him. Frank Tucker.¡±
¡°Who are you?¡± Mr. Tucker paused before he could close his door. He took one cautious step back, before Jenny stepped into his vision, ¡°Oh you¡¯re the officer lady the other day at the forensics building. Uuuh...Jasmine.¡±
¡°Constable Jenny, C.I.D.¡± Jenny cleared her throat, ignoring her partner¡¯s snickers, ¡°This is Constable Jackson, we are the same investigation team as Sergeant Leo and Constable McLamb you met previously. We hope to take your interview today.¡±
¡°By the way,¡± Jackson finished his chuckle and gave Mr. Tucker a look over, ¡°Uuuuh. You look...awfully sharp in that suit. Party?¡±
Mr. Tucker shook his head. He adjusted his well pressed suit with a hesitant tug and hefted a heavy looking leather briefcase in one hand, ¡°No. I¡¯m heading out to work. I own a furniture factory.¡±
¡°...Dude, you just saw your wife¡¯s dead body yesterday.¡±
¡°Ja¡ª! ¡± Jenny slapped Jackson in the arm, shooting a glare at him. She then turned to the husband to bow, ¡°I-I am so sorry for my partner¡¯s rudeness!¡±
Mr. Tucker fell silent from their words, his eyes glancing between them. He ended up staring at a wall nearby, the Adam¡¯s apple in his throat bobbing, ¡°Yes, I know. My wife is gone. I still can¡¯t believe it to be true. B..but I still have over 80 employees and we¡¯re hitting a rough time.¡± Mr. Tucker took a moment to rub his mouth and jaw with a sigh, ¡°Ever since Sarah disappeared, I had been absent from work. Now that you found her, I have to return to my duties. They need my leadership.¡±
Both officers exchanged subtle glances at each other. Just as Jackson opened his mouth, Jenny intercepted with, ¡°I am sorry, for your loss. We hope you could spare a moment for some questions.¡±
¡°Uh. Erm...Alright yes. I can. Come in. Watch your step.¡± Mr. Tucker would nod and opened the door to his apartment, ushering them in.
The Tucker resident was a small but cozy unit with a high ceiling. A living room, dining room, kitchen nook, a master bedroom, and a single bathroom with a mixed bathtub and shower. The walls were made of faux marble and embroidered with fake gold, giving it an expensive feeling when the Constables entered. As it was day out, the sunlight bouncing off the polished surfaces made the room bright as fluorescent bulb.
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Jenny would take off her shoes, nearly putting them to the side. Jackson would march right in, shoes on. Mr. Tucker led them to the living room space, gesturing them to have a seat on the couches. There were two sets, one was a love seat facing the TV and a single that was placed to the side near the apartment window. As Jenny sat down, she noticed the glass-top coffee table in front of her and her partner.
It has some TV remotes, their rubber buttons worn out to the point where numbers and letters have gone missing. A pair of silver coasters with images of swan couples engraved onto the surface. There was also a pile of newspaper and magazines with the following headlines.
[BODY RECOVERED FROM THE DUKE RIVER, IN SEVEN PIECES!?]
[DISMEMBERED WOMAN DISCOVERED BEHIND THE POST OFFICE! THE SPLITTER STRIKES AGAIN?]
[THREE HEADS FOUND IN TAMPA PARK! SPLITTER¡¯S CHALLENGE TO THE POLICE]
Before Jenny could speak up, Jackson leaned forward with an impressed whistle. ¡°You got yourself a real cozy place. You make a killing at your furniture job? How much is the rent?¡±
¡°Jackson! Please!¡± Jenny would hit her partner in the arm and turned back to the husband, ¡°I apologize, so much, Mr. Tucker. While I take your interview - in private - would you allow Constable Jackson to collect some DNA samples from your wife¡¯s affects?¡±
¡°Yes, of course.¡± The husband would give a weary nod, gesturing a hand, ¡°By all means. If this helps to solve the case, I am willing to cooperate.¡±
¡°Thank you so much,¡± Jenny would nod, then shove Jackson to his feet. With a shrug, the second Constable would wander around, checking the rooms. Jenny adjusted her jean jacket and cleared her throat, a professional air around her. ¡°I understand you wish to know the details of what happened. I will talk to my inspector, and ask for permission to give you as much update as possible.¡±
Mr. Tucker smiled, a grateful nod, ¡°I really appreciate it officer. You have questions for me? I apologize for before, I am ready to answer.¡±
Jenny returned the gesture with a light bow. Once Jackson was out of eye and ear shot, she would pluck out a voice recorder from her jacket pocket and hit the record button.
¡°Mr. Frank Tucker. Please tell me, what happened prior your wife¡¯s disappearance.¡±
The husband rubbed his jaw, ¡°It, it all started with an argument.¡±
¡°Sarah and I have been married for over 20 years. We are about...sorry, we were about to celebrate our 22nd anniversary in a few weeks. Our marriage was born from rebellious love and a whirlwind emotions. Good times, now that I look back. But, I think you and I both know, when you live with the same person for that long, little problems start to show up...
...We bickered, from time to time. I mean, what married couple wouldn¡¯t have a lover spat. At the end, either one of us would apologize and make it up to them. 20 years marriage, not something you can give up so easily. Compromise, compromise, compromise...However, I screwed up.¡±
Frank Tucker took a moment to rub his mouth more, his eyebrow furrowed. He couldn¡¯t stop glancing at the magazine on the coffee table, all reporting about the dismembered body. He looked away, covering his quivering lips.
¡°On the night she disappeared, we argued, badly. It was about money. As I mentioned, I own a furniture company. I saw much success at the beginning, built it from the ground up. But with the rise of Amazon, eBay, even over seas companies with cheaper labour and materials ¨C things just went from bad to worse. Sarah was upset, I spent too much money to keep the company afloat. I..I even put our apartment on mortgage ¨C just when we paid it off.¡±
Frank Tucker rubbed his eyes with his palms, pressing the tears out from them with a disappointed shake of his head.
¡°I went to pick her up after her night shift at the hospital, like I always do. On the drive home she told me to just give up and close the business. I told her, ¡®honey, I can¡¯t do that. What about all my workers. They got family too¡¯. One thing led to another, I raised my voice at her, I said things I shouldn¡¯t have and she just...She forced me to stop the car and got out.¡±
The husband flipped his hands up with a shameful shrug.
¡°I messed up. I should never had left her alone. I was angry, I didn¡¯t want to talk to her then, so I just drove around town to cool my head. When I calmed down I went back to the apartment. Lights were off. Checked the bathrooms and the room, empty. I waited for hours, any sign for Sarah to come back home but...¡±
The husband covered his mouth with both hands now, pressing his lips shut.
¡°I reported to the police that she was missing. I called her friends, co-workers, even visited the places she would likely go to. Nothing. I even went to my in-laws to check, and they hate my guts. Then I came across the news, about the Splitter. I never paid attention to it until now. The thought my wife could have been a victim just...¡±
Frank Tucker gripped his heart, shaking his head in denial.
¡°I didn¡¯t want to believe it, but the more I kept waiting the more my mind wandered. She would have called me, even if she was living somewhere else. Still nothing. Not even a text, or voice mail... Officer, it¡¯s all my fault this happened. I started this. I caused my wife to die. I realized my mistake when I saw her body at the morgue. I...¡±
Frank Tucker gave a deep inhale, choking back on some tears welling up in his eyes. He doubled over, elbows on his knees, hands cupping his mouth in a makeshift prayer. Unable to fight back the emotions in his body, his eyes cringed and he bowed his head in shame.
¡°It¡¯s my fault Sarah is dead. All chopped up and tossed like garbage... Officer. Please, promise me you¡¯ll catch the killer. Make them pay!¡±
== TO BE CONTINUED ==>
Elevator Hall of Blackberry Heights
The interview was over. Constable Jenny and Constable Jackson got what they needed, alibi as well as some hair samples from the Tucker resident. The two officers leaned against the wall of the fifth floor hallway, waiting for their elevator. It was slow, stopping at every floor before theirs.
While waiting, Jenny gave a small sigh. Then busied herself by swiping a backhand across Jackson¡¯s chest. ¡°I ¨C cannot ¨C BELIEVE YOU!¡±
Jackson looked at where Jenny struck him. With a flat face, he brushed the dust off his shirt, ¡°Look. Jeans. When you got to go, you got to go! What? I ain¡¯t gonna toot my trombone in the middle of the room and say ¡®Sorry had breakfast burritos this morning¡¯. That would be too awkward.¡±
¡°Could you, at the very least, hold it until AFTER our duties!?¡± Jenny resisted the urge to full tilt yell in the apartment hallways. Not wanting to scare any children inside, she could only suppress her frustration with a groan and covering her eyes with shame, ¡°The man lost his wife, his company is hitting a slump, relies on an inhaler, and he cried during the interview! I feel absolutely TERRIBLE for this man ¨C and you go and leave a stinky in his toilet!?¡±
¡°Gurl,¡± Jackson raised a hand to adjust his fedora hat that slipped on a tilt, ¡°if you have a habit of holding in number 2 for hours, you got health issues. I¡¯m an officer of the law, not RoboCop.¡±
Jenny spun on her heels to turn her back on Jackson. One, it was the most polite way of saying go screw himself. Two, she can¡¯t handle the intense feeling of embarrassment in her small body.
¡°Relaaax, Jeanny Jeans. The guy is fine, I¡¯m sure. He¡¯s already got a back up plan.¡±
¡°My brain hurts too much to understand your cryptic sarcasm. What are you suggesting?¡±
¡°Be thinkin he¡¯s got another girl in mind,¡± Jackson would rub his chin with a cheeky grin, ¡°I mean, I noticed he switched out his wife¡¯s old towels with a brand new one. Even her own toothbrush is fresh from the box. Guessing he¡¯s got an opening for a new babe...or boy if he¡¯s a switch hitter.¡±
Jenny closed her eyes. She would take several deep and calming breaths, before swinging her police tablet to smack Jackson all over. A game of whack a mole!
¡°YOU ¨C ARE ¨C THE ¨C WORST!¡±
¡°OW! STOP! AAGH! POLICE BRUTALITY! POLICE BRUTA¡ªAAHG!!¡±
¡°Pfffft.¡± A sound came around the corner, suppressing the urge to laugh. Both Constables stop their war, and peered around.
A housewife was hiding behind the corner of the hall. The mole on her upper lip curled up with her sly smirk, full lips painted in velvet quivered to keep from laughing, and her extended eyelashes battering. She took a moment to carefully wipe a tear before it ruined her eyeliner.
¡°You two married?¡± the housewife asked in a teasing tone.
Jenny covered her mouth, ¡°Please miss, no.¡±
Jackson tipped his hat over his eyes, ¡°No way ho-zay, lady.¡±
¡°Gooood.¡± The woman laughed and pulled out a cigarette, ¡°If I were you, sugar, I¡¯d thiiink real hard before either of you be gettin hitched. Don¡¯t want to see you warring like them Tuckers every day.¡±
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¡°So, about the Tuckeeeeeeeers?¡±
Jackson slid over to lean right next to the housewife. With a flick of a hand, a lighter appears in his palm and he helped to light the woman¡¯s cigarette. She took in a deep drag, part of the cigarette tip turning into ashes, and she exhaled a thick cloud. Jenny took a step back to avoid getting hit by the trail of smoke, flattening her nostrils to block the smell.
¡°Oh don¡¯t mind me sugar,¡± the housewife laughed and took another drag, ¡°My hubby isn¡¯t a fan of the old smoke and cigar. Grocery shopping is the only time I can relief myself. Now, where did little ol¡¯ me trail off at ¨C aaaaah yes..¡±
Jackson nod, paying close attention to her with a friendly chuckle. Jenny tried not to cough too loud and pulled out her phone to start taking notes. The housewife took another long drag, giving out a happy and relaxed exhale that filled up the hall.
¡°Them Tuckers. They¡¯re always at it. They¡¯ve lived here longer than me and my hubby and there hasn¡¯t been a day I don¡¯t hear them yelling at each other. All that arguing would make even court case drama look like a cheap soap opera.¡±
¡°You know them well?¡± Jackson wondered as he adjusted his fedora, ¡°how close?¡±
¡°Oh heaven forbid, I don¡¯t even wanna go near them.¡± The housewife makes a huff and folds her arms, the cigarette in her fingers dripping ash on the polished floor ¡°Just your regular hi and good bye, they don¡¯t even give me or my hubby the time of day. Every time the Tuckers leave their apartment, they can¡¯t even look at each other in the eye. I even seen Mr. Tucker take the stairs and Mrs. Tucker the elevator at the same time.¡±
¡°Do you know what they argue about?¡± Jenny asked as he typed on her phone, waving her hand to fight off the smoke, ¡°Other than meeting them at the door way what else do you see about them?¡±
¡°Oh honey, wait till you see them reaally go at it,¡± the housewife laughed, but covers her mouth when she felt she was too loud and continued in a gossiping hush. ¡°I see them duke it out. Yeah, I watch them through my kitchen window. When they get reaaal angry, they start throwing fists and slaps. They always cause a ruckus. Seen Mr. Tucker throw a chair at the ground to threaten her. Reaaal bad. It gets so wild, I couldn¡¯t take my eyes off them while I have some popcorn.¡± The housewife paused when she sees Jenny staring at her, ¡°What? Can you blame me? Sure married life is all posh, but it can sometimes be just boring. I woman¡¯s got to have her entertainment to keep the family together, no?¡±
A shrug and the woman waved her cigarette hand to the other apartment doors. ¡°My guess everyone here must be used to them Tuckers. No one here made so much as a peep to management to complain. Not gonna lie, them Tuckers look like a real mess no one wants to touch.¡±
The housewife took another puff, already halfway through her cigarette. With one tap of her finger a large clump of ash would drop on the floor
Jenny cringed at the sight. In the end she composed herself to ask, ¡°When was the last time you saw them argue? Did you see Mrs. Tucker ever come back?¡±
¡°Hmm...about two weeks ago. I caught a glimpse of Mr. Tucker coming home alone around that late at night looking mighty exhausted. Since then I haven¡¯t caught a beep of Mrs. Tucker and¡ªWait wait wait.¡± The housewife then realized something and put the cigarette to her lips in defence, ¡°Which unit number you say you¡¯re from again?¡±
The Constables exchanged glances, then pull out their police ID to say, ¡°C.I.D.¡±
¡°O-oh my would you look at the time. I have to go pick up the kids.¡± The housewife rush to the elevator to press the buttons. When it was too slow she returned an awkward laugh and booked down the stairs. Nothing but the sound of her stiletto shoes tapping wildly down the steps could be heard, like nails rattling a keyboard.
It was in this moment, the elevator finally arrived. Jackson stepped in first and pressed the ground floor. As it closed, he suddenly reached out to stop it from shutting. ¡°Yo. Jeans, you coming?¡±
When he poked his head out from the gap, he could see Jenny crouched down to pick up the ashes and cigarette butt with a tissue, throwing it out to a nearby garbage can with an ash holder. Wiping her hands with sanitizing alcohol, she would step into the elevator and stand in a corner in silence all the way.
¡°Clean freak.¡±
¡°Slob."
== TO BE CONTINUED ==>
Inspectors Office
Inspector May could be found in her own private office. It was located on the third floor in Precinct 23 and right across from the designated workspace used by her C.I.D. unit Team B.
The office was fresh white, be it floors, walls, ceiling, not a crack or stain could be found even when checked under a magnifying glass. A cabinet sat behind her office full of law text, court documents, as well as investigation files that come and go every day. Her office was small but that did not stop her from keeping a large work desk in front of her. It was the kind that could raise up and down by the press of a switch, from sitting to standing, to improve ergonomics and body posture. Two screens standing vertically sat in one corner, a large desk calendar covering the front of her desk, and a standard office phone with more pre-programmed speed dials than numbers.
The rest of the space was occupied by several small chairs, which were currently used by Sergeant Leo and Constables McLamb, Jenny, and Jackson surrounding her with police tablets and reports.
¡°It¡¯s been a few days,¡± Inspector May leaned back in her tall leather chair, making a light creak noise, ¡°What do we got?¡±
Jenny pulled out her tablet to hand to the Inspector, ¡°The severed thumb Sergeant Leo and McLamb found has the same blood type as the body, O negative. The hair samples Jackson recovered from the Tucker resident matches the DNA of the body. We are for sure the victim is Sarah Tucker.¡±
¡°I¡¯m looking for a breakthrough,¡± Inspector May frowned and pushed the tablet back to Jenny, ¡°We¡¯re past the point of confirmation. Give me something I don¡¯t know so I can start thinking of possible leads ¨C next!¡±
McLamb adjusts himself in his seat, back straight, shoulders levelled, both feet firmly on the ground, ¡°After some speculation with Sergeant Leo and the others, the killer has taken great care to make sure the police couldn¡¯t identify the victim immediately.¡± Seeing Inspector May roll her eyes, McLamb holds up a hand to gesture to let him continue, ¡°I believe, the killer and victim knew each other, to the point hiding her identity was the best plan of action. Looking at surface evidence, we can debunk that this was not a random spurt of the moment crime of opportunity.¡±
The Inspector tapped her calendar on her desk with a finger. A few loud thumps and she spoke, ¡°At this point, I see two possibilities. Either McLamb is right, this was done by someone close to the victim, or this is the work of the Splitter serial killer.¡±
¡°Hmm. I don¡¯t think so,¡± Jackson adjusted in his seat, arms folded with his fedora leaned over to hide his curious brows, ¡°I had a talk with the buddies at Precinct 18 who are hunting the guy down. I read their case files. Yes, the Splitter chops up his victims into itty bitty pieces ¨C however! The Splitter never places all severed limbs in a single area. Maybe it¡¯s a game in his head, or some kind of artistic puzzle, he scatters the victim¡¯s body parts in various locations. It takes months, even years to find all missing pieces. This case, we found everything, and only needed, what, a day to find a thumb.¡±
¡°May I remind you Jackson, we still have a head and pelvis missing.¡±
¡°I mean, you get what I¡¯m saying right? That ¡®never put all of your eggs in one basket¡¯ was turn on it¡¯s head for Sarah Tucker¡¯s case.¡±
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¡°A smokescreen.¡± Leo rubbed his chin in deep thought as everyone turned to him. ¡°I suspect Mr. Tucker is involved with the death of Mrs. Tucker. Her murder is disguised among the victims of the Splitter that has been on a rage across the city. The details are public, most likely the husband collected the information to mimic the Splitter.¡± Leo would then pat McLamb on the arm, surprising the Constable, ¡°McLamb and I agree that Mr. Tucker¡¯s reaction when confirming the body of his wife was suspicious, right?¡±
¡°Uh, uuuh. Yes. Leo¡ªEr, Sergeant is correct. I, as a stranger had trouble facing the corpse, however Mr. Tucker seems more afraid to see the body of his dead wife compared to me. I didn¡¯t even turn the body over to show the back, and he already confirmed the birthmark and surgical scar.¡± McLamb rubbed his neck trying to piece the logic together, ¡°It¡¯s like he wanted to get it over with and say it was her. No denial, or think about the possibility she could still be alive.¡± A thought came to mind and he brought it up, ¡°A-also, Jenny and Jackson said Mr. Tucker hid the truth about his relationship with his wife. The housewife claimed she would see them argue intensely, even exchanging blows. There could be a connection to his behaviour at the morgue and why he is lying to us.¡±
¡°Ah, the magazines,¡± Jenny pulled out her police tablet, opening some images and held it up to show everyone, ¡°In our interview with Mr. Tucker, I found a lot of newspapers and magazines all talking about the reports of the Splitter in his apartment. A part of me wondered if he thought his wife would be involved in the crimes, and that¡¯s why he searched up the information.¡± Jenny brushed at her nose to gather her thoughts. ¡°You know, like when people self diagnose ailments on Google and find evidence to support it, regardless of doctor¡¯s confirmation. That or he started collected them after seeing his wife¡¯s dismembered body, to see if the police has caught the murderer yet.¡±
Leo frowned, ¡°I feel he wants to check whether or not we figured out who the murderer is.¡±
Inspector May picked up her cup from her desk to give it a sip. ¡°Alright, I am going to play the Devil¡¯s advocate.¡±
¡°Of course,¡± Leo rolled his eyes with a fold of his arms.
¡°In similar cases, the family members tend to overthink and prepare for the worst,¡± the Inspector huffed with a slight shake of her head, ¡°Given the seriousness of the Splitter, the fact that he leaves no survivors or eye witness, and added with Mrs. Tucker being missing for more than a few weeks ¨C it would be obvious for a vulnerable man like Mr. Tucker come to such a chilling conclusion.¡±
¡°Ooooor,¡± Jackson leaned in his seat, pushing back his fedora, ¡°Like the Sarge said, this could be really a smokescreen to throw us off the scent. The guy bought the magazines and newspaper to study the serial killer, and when the opportunity strikes HYAAAH!¡± He makes a loud noise with a swing of a hand like a violent chop, ¡°Bye bye wifey.¡±
The Inspector tapped her finger again, making loud thonk noises, ¡°Motive?¡±
¡°Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeh. Pendiiiiiing?¡±
Inspector May started to knock her knuckles on her desk to emphasize her words. ¡°Think. This was a 20+ year marriage we¡¯re talking about. If they really hated their guts like the housewife stated, wouldn¡¯t a divorce be easier and cleaner?¡±
The Inspector looked at her team, still thinking for a proper response.
¡°Manslaughter can happen by accident,¡± she continued, ¡°murder needs a motive. Some classic text book choices are: love, money, revenge. Sometimes jealousy or an expression of rage against society. So, tell me, why end a 20+ year marriage in such a flashy exit? We¡¯re talking about a dismembered corpse and two missing body pieces? Hmm?¡± The Inspector rose from her seat, picking up her coat and putting it on. ¡°May I remind you, I will be representing this case in court. I cannot use ¡®I believe¡¯, ¡®I speculate¡¯, ¡®I assume¡¯ to the Judge. If you want to throw out the case, fine by me. If not, go get concrete evidence. Dismissed.¡±
The team rose with her and saluted, ¡°Yes, Madam!¡±
== TO BE CONTINUED ==>
St. Marlene Hospital
St. Marlene Hospital stood in on the border between downtown and the city¡¯s residential areas for the middle class. A large collection of buildings to support basic medical care, emergency, ambulatory, family medicine, blood work, laboratory, surgery, to even expensive orthopaedic operations for knee and hip replacements. The hospital was staffed by professional doctors, nurses, care aides, and other medical operators who have at least two years of training experience in their field. St. Marlene Hospital was proud to boast the fact they are among the top 5 ¡®nicest¡¯ hospitals in the big city.
Constable McLamb walked down the busy hallway with another nurse. Every time he dipped his head down to type notes into his phone, a nurse or doctor would bump into him. No words were exchanged as they dove into rooms or returned to their front desk. He couldn¡¯t resist rubbing his neck, and staggered when another burly care aide brushed past him.
¡°Excuse me,¡± he apologized to the care aide and turned to the nurse he was trying to keep up with, ¡°So uh, oof! Sorry. Um. How long have you known Mrs¡ªOof. Tucker?¡±
¡°Pardon the traffic, Officer,¡± The nurse would respond, never breaking eye contact from several patient files she had open on her hospital tablet, ¡°we¡¯re in the middle of a heat wave.¡± A deep breath and stepped to the side. In time to avoid a hospital bed being pushed down the cramp halls, knocking McLamb into the wall. ¡°Sarah Tucker and I were class mates in the same nursing program. We both started working here after graduation. Many years enough to give her seniority over me.¡±
The gaze in the nurse¡¯s eyes reminded the constable of a dead fish.
McLamb cleared his throat as he peeled himself from the wall. Playing smart, he would try to trail after the nurse and rely on her movement to ¡®clear the way¡¯. Even so, his elbows would stick out and constantly get knocked around by staff or medical equipment with bulky frames. Klonk. ¡°OW! Could you tell me how was she like, when alive?¡±
¡°Sarah is the type of person who will act on what she believes is right,¡± the nurse stared at her screen while talking, head down but easily dodging any staff members, ¡°Not even her husband she loved so much could change her mind on some matters. Still, that¡¯s between the staff. When she is in front of patients and their family...she¡¯s the angel.¡±
McLamb noticed muscles twitching in the nurses cheek. He pretended he didn¡¯t notice.
The nurse turned down the hall and this time the constable behind her flattened his body against the side when large MRI machines were paraded down the lane. ¡°Always with a smile. Answered every call bell no matter how small or repetitive the matter was. She was like a coin really. On heads, she is very open and cheerful ¨C on tails, she was strong minded. Many times, it can be...difficult to keep up with her ¡®efficiency¡¯ but we can¡¯t complain. Sarah Tucker was one of the best...That was until about a year ago and her mood changed.¡±
McLamb typed in the notes, then pondered out loud, ¡°Would this, ahem, mood change happen to involve Mr. Tucker?¡±
¡°Perhaps. She did stop boasting about her husband to the others in the locker room, so that could be a clue.¡± A notification appeared on the nurse¡¯s tablet. She reared her head back with a grumbling sigh. ¡°One second officer, one of my patient needs their brief changed - again. Uuuugh.¡±
¡°...By all means.¡±
McLamb wanted to rub his neck from all the confusion. He ended up pinning his body into the walls again when a group of doctors bolted down the hall on the answer of a heart attack alert. After the nurse came out of a washroom while wiping her hands dry, the constable continued the interview.
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¡°Does Mr. Tucker visit her workplace? Often or at all?¡±
¡°No, not really,¡± The nurse tossed the paper towel at the trash, it bounced off and fell to the floor, and she turned away to focus on McLamb, ¡°Her husband usually arrives at the hospital to drop her off and pick her up. At most he would join pot luck events, bringing food for his wife, but other than that not at all often.¡± The nurse sighed, folding her arms. ¡°In the past, Sarah adored her husband. Has her entire locker covered with their photos. About a year ago things went sour for her and like I mentioned her mood took a turn for the worst.¡±
A patient bolted out of his room with some IV lines dangling from his arm. With a deranged look he tried to run up to McLamb and the nurse. Only for some large care aides and security guard to tackle him, pin him down, and someone to inject medications to sedate him. The constable could not help but stare at what happened. The nurse took a moment to check her nails.
¡°Sarah started to take it out on others, not just the staff, but the patients too.¡± The nurse would gesture a finger to some workers and visitors walking past them. ¡°She snapped at children and the elderly, ignored call bells, began to mess up on diet records and have a shouting match with the cafeteria on who was right or wrong. I even saw her slap a lab tech for talking back. Worse she¡ª¡°
McLamb waited for the nurse to finish her thought. When nothing came he looked at the one he was interviewing. She went pale, her eyes looking to the side. The finger she used to point curled up, hiding into a fist.
¡°...Worse she, what, miss?¡± McLamb asked.
¡°It¡¯s in the past. She¡¯s gone now.¡± The nurse adjusted her posture, straightening her scrubs. Before McLamb could pry the overhead PA started to ring.
[Room 56-A, Code Yellow. Repeat, Room 56-A, Code Yellow]
The nurse immediately groaned and started to run off. ¡°Oh come on, give me a break!¡±
¡°W-wait! Where are you going?¡± McLamb tried to grab her, only for the nurse to fling his grip off with an annoyed scowl, ¡°We haven¡¯t finished the interview!¡±
¡°Code Yellow!¡± The nurse barked back while rounding up some care aides. ¡°A patient eloped! Ran away! My patient, god!¡±
¡°W..what?¡± McLamb could only say those words as the nurse rushed down the hall with a curse to search for the missing patient. The constable rubbed at his neck and tapped his foot to try and think of something. Giving up, he decided to leave the hospital. And ended up running into a little old lady, ¡°Oh! I-I am so sorry madam!¡±
¡°My, my. Aren¡¯t you a handsome fellow.¡± The old lady stabilized herself. She was short, standing with a crooked lean forward, withered arm and legs, skin so thin the constable could see her veins bulging. She had an IV drip attached to one arm as she held onto the support ring as a walker. Her other hand would rub McLamb¡¯s arm up and down with a smirk. ¡°Don¡¯t mind the nurses deary. They work around the clock with little to no break. The minute they sit down, they snore like a hack saw. Hard for me to sleep during their night shift.¡±
¡°N-no. It¡¯s alright. I have friends who work as a--¡±
¡°Ooooh. Not to mention, she doesn¡¯t want to get into trouble about Nurse Tucker.¡±
¡°...Trouble?¡±
¡°Hmm. My legs are a bit weary.¡± The old lady tapped her legs with a fist. ¡°My eyes aren¡¯t as sharp as they used to be. Do you see a chair nearby? Hmm?¡± Seeing her coy smile, McLamb immediately ushered her to some seats nearby and help her sit down. All the while she kept rubbing at the muscles in his arm. ¡°That¡¯s better. And yes. Trouble. I overheard your conversation, and the name Sarah Tucker came up. I know her, she once took care of my neighbour in the same hospital room. Oooh it was a big, biiig ruckus at the time.¡±
McLamb knelt down in front of the old lady, ¡°Could you tell me what it is? This is really important.¡±
¡°Hmm.¡± The old lady giggled. She rubbed her fingers together.
¡°...Madam, I am an officer. I can¡¯t pay for information.¡±
¡°Pepsi, sonny boy. I am mighty thirsty. Heheheh.¡±
== TO BE CONTINUED ==>
Shangri-Lah Furniture Manufacturing
Shangri-Lah Furniture Limited was a large manufacturing company found on the outer edges of the big city, miles away from the original crime scene. It had several large warehouses used to store raw wooden material such as lumber and wooden planks; one giant shed to house their carpentry machines that were cooling down or under maintenance; and one single story office building close to the entrance gate. Tall chimney pipes rose up to point into the sky, belching thick white smoke to mix in with the clouds. The parking lot could hold about 30 cars. So far, only 3 cars and one company van could be see, and the other lots either piled up with neglected garbage or had random machines and materials left out for the rain to chew on.
Sergeant Leo drove up to the factory and parked his vehicle in front of the office building. He entered the lobby and spotted a young looking secretary at the front desk. One glance and the detective could see 15 waiting chairs and couches. All empty. The only person alive was a young looking secretary at her desk, behind a short wall with the company name branded on across the face. As Leo came up he could see the secretary had her head down, watching a stream on her phone of a mouse girl Vtuber with iron-horns playing a horror game.
Leo faked a cough, loud enough to make the secretary to jolt in her seat and shove her phone under her files. The muffled voice of the mouse Vtuber could still be heard.
¡°Welcome back boss, I have--Oh...¡± The secretary stood up, only to stop when she did not recognize Leo, ¡°Um. D-do you have an appointment sir?¡±
¡°Sergeant Leo.¡± The detective nodded, showing his ID card, ¡°C.I.D. I am here to talk to your employer, Frank Tucker.¡±
¡°He¡¯s out right now. Ahem!¡± The secretary sat back down, hands folded on her lap under the table. When her buried phone made a faint Vtuber scream, she had to bring her hands back up to press down and muffle out the noises from the game stream. ¡°Uuuh. He, he is in the middle of an important meeting.¡±
¡°Do you know when he¡¯ll be back?¡±
¡°He¡¯s......out.¡±
Leo resisted the urge to sigh. He gave the secretary a break by breaking eye contact, letting her sneak her phone out to turn off the sound and hide it in her desk drawer. He glanced about in the mean time, and noticed the door to an office cracked open.
¡°Is that his office?¡± Leo pointed, ¡°shouldn¡¯t you lock it?¡±
¡°Uuuuuuh.¡± The secretary stood up, shuffled over, and closed the door...the door slowly opens again on its own with a creaaaak. ¡°We¡¯re, rather I, a-am waiting for the locksmith to come over but...he¡¯s um..running late.¡±
¡°Oh, why don¡¯t I help?¡± The detective would step into the doorway, examining the lock and the handle, ¡°I did house construction and renovation work before I became a cop. If you got tools, I can fix them.¡±
¡°How-how much, officer?¡±
¡°Ah well. I would charge you but given my position, it would be considered bribery. Tell you what, since I¡¯m waiting for you boss I¡¯ll do this for free.¡±
¡°Oh wonderful!¡± the secretary clapped with glee, ¡°this would help, sooo much. My boss, is such a penny pincher. If I couldn¡¯t find a locksmith that fit his budget, he¡¯ll take a cut out of my pay. This, you¡¯re a life saver officer!¡±
Leo nods back with a wry smile, ¡°To protect and to serve. Tool box please.¡±
Sergeant Leo stepped into the boss¡¯ office and closed the door behind him, which quietly bounced back off the frames with a creaaaaak.
The room was large, spacious, enough to fit a large custom made mahogany office desk with solid legs and a back cover; a set of three wooden couches with well worn and exotic cushions across the eats; a coffee table carved out of a thick and gnarled tree stump; and a small standing table top corner with a collection of Scotch, Whisky, and some Wine bottles.
Leo would turn to look at some cabinets stand against the walls. One was dedicated to a series of crystal awards and brass trophies, all labelled BEST FURNITURE COMPANY, BEST SERVICES, BEST EMPLOYEE TEAM, NATIONAL FURNITURE COMPETITION, etc.
Another cabinet full of cube shelves, each holding a miniature model of some furniture assets the company produced with silver stickers. One group of miniatures had golden labels reading between the 6th and 12th year of the company¡¯s life span they won consecutive awards in some national competition. That was until Leo looked at the rest of the miniatures dated in the last three years: 2nd place, 2nd place, 3rd place, 4th place, honorable mention, participation.
Leo reached up to touch the latest furniture miniature of a plain looking beach chair. The leg and arm fell apart, the entire beach chair model tip over dead.
¡°...¡±
The sergeant cleared his throat and walked around. The wall dividing the main lobby and the boss office was a single window-style glass wall. There were some strips of glass that were frosted, and as the rest were 100% transparent there were a series of dripping blinds dangling to obscure the boss¡¯ office for some privacy.
As the secretary would make the occasional glances at Leo in the office, he avoided turning the blinds for now. Rather he tried to minimize detection by crouching down. He used one of the couches in the room as cover and brought out tools from the box to feign ¡®helping¡¯. As he continued examining the room, he would tap the tools together in his hands like drum sticks to mimic ¡®fixing¡¯ noises. Eventually the secretary relaxed and resumed watching her favourite mouse Vtuber girl¡¯s horror stream. Leo took this opportunity to peek over Frank Tucker¡¯s desk.
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The office desk was well used, areas where people rest their wrist left a small impression and the sleeves having polished the wood with some scratches of the cuff links. A wooden cup was filled with the type of blue pens people can easily throw away when it runs dry, the computer screen has a crack in the corner and fixed with several transparent tape, and the clunky PC tower had a half torn sticker with the words SEC¡ªHAND US¡ª still stuck on it.
Leo eyed the corner of the desk, spotting a pile of mail clipped in a holder. With a wide move of his arm, he ¡®accidentally¡¯ knocked them over and they spilled across the ground. Being a ¡®good Samaritan¡¯ he started to pick them up ¨C examining each sender.
[KNIGHTS OF THE ROUND CARGO ¨C SUPPLY SHIPPING COMPANY, URGENT!]
[LUMIERE HEAVY ELECTRIC COMPANY ¨C IMPORTANT NOTICE, OVERDUE]
[CITY DOCK AND PROVINCIAL SHIPPING ¨C PLEASE ACT BEFORE DEADLINE]
He glanced at each envelope, covered in red URGENT/OVERDUE stamp ink over and over. Before Leo could try and ponder on them, or even open one of the letters, he heard a noise outside of the office. He quickly shuffled and crammed them back into the tight holder, then crawled to the window wall for a peek.
Outside, a large man wearing a red and black shipping uniform burst into the lobby with a shove through the door. As he stormed over he gripped at his cap as if getting ready for a sudden bar fight. The cap had a well embroidered logo of KNIGHTS OF THE ROUND CARGO showing a knight in full plate armor riding a cargo truck like a horse.
He slapped his hand across the secretary¡¯s desk, the leather of his driving gloves making a violent thunder crack on the surface. It startled the secretary, making her drop her phone to the ground with a SNAP, the broken screen going out harder than a burnt light bulb. Unable to mourn over the death of her phone, she turned and seized up in front of the large man.
¡°Where¡¯s he!?¡± The driver barked, veins bulging on his neck. ¡°Where¡¯s that cheap skate Tucker!?¡±
¡°H-h-h-he¡¯s out!¡± was all the secretary could say before her table gets struck again. ¡°EEK! P-please don¡¯t hit the desk, s-sir or, or--¡±
¡°Okay, look! I¡¯m real sorry for being up in your face, but I had it up to here with Tucker!¡± the driver held up his large hands and tried to suppress his scowl quivering with rage, ¡°This is like what, the fourth time his cheque bounced! I gave him more than enough leeway, but not today! I am running a shipping business, not a charity hall. Now go and get that two faced son of a¡ª¡°
¡°Excuse me,¡± Leo stepped out of the employer¡¯s office right before the drive could finish his curse. ¡°Something wrong?¡±
¡°Who are you?¡± The driver snarled, looking Leo up and down with a glare.
The secretary gasped with relief, hand on her chest to calm her heart. However, just as she was about to call out to the policeman, Leo held up a hand to interrupt her without breaking eye contract from the driver, ¡°I¡¯m one of Frank¡¯s business associates. Wanted to sort out some...overdues.¡±
After a beat of silence, the driver gave understanding nod. ¡°Oh come on. Don¡¯t tell me he owes you money too. God, this jack--¡±
¡°Why don¡¯t we, you know, step outside. Get some fresh air.¡± Leo would then stride over and usher the truck driver towards the door. Just before leaving he gave the secretary a silent ¡®ok¡¯ gesture with a hand and walked out of the office.
The woman just stood there with a confused stare.
Leo and the cargo driver stood outside in the parking lot, around the corner of the office building and leaning against the wall under some shade. Leo pulled out his vape bottle and passed it to the driver, letting him take a deep puff. Faint purple mist spills out from the driver¡¯s mouth, his eyes rolled back with ease and relaxation, then he blew the purple mist from his nostrils like a sleepy dragon. A strong scent of grapes filling the air between them.
¡°Better?¡± The detective asked, patting the driver on the shoulder. ¡°Let me guess, kicking the habit?¡±
¡°Wife¡¯s about to have our first kid so I had to quit, but it¡¯s just bad timing with all work and no pay. Just...man!¡± The driver lifted up his hands with a quivering lip, but drops them back down in defeat, ¡°four times. Four freaking times. The cheque bounced again. I get paid by commissions and this was suppose to cover our expenses, you know rent, milk money, diapers, maybe some tuition down the road¨C but this Tucker is a, a¡ªGAAAH!.¡±
Leo stepped back to let the driver stomp at the curb a few times, to vent out his frustration. The detective offered another drag from his vape, and the driver eventually fixed his red cap to calm down. Leo took in a deep breath, ¡°he really screwed you over, didn¡¯t he?¡±
¡°Tip of the ice berg.¡± The driver groaned and rubbed a gloved hand over his face. ¡°Guy is buried in debt. And you wanna know the funny thing? Instead of doing his company a favor and pick up more business,¡± he glanced left and right before he whispered, ¡°he¡¯s picking up women.¡±
Leo raised an eyebrow and listened closely, ¡°You don¡¯t say? How can you tell?¡±
¡°Oh, you can tell alright.¡± The drive grinned, pulling off one glove to show his hand and tapped the wedding band on it. ¡°Walked in on him fooling around with another woman a few times. Said she was his insurance broker here on business and she ¡®slipped¡¯...Hah. Sure.¡±
¡°Huh.¡± Leo tapped on his chin for a second to pick the right words. ¡°Frank told me he was making a killing. Even convince me to invest in some shares. I got some money at first but then it started shrinking. Hesaid something about a new buyer and money should come back in. What do you make of that?¡±
¡°Heh. If you think he¡¯s gonna make a killing, then you¡¯re either naive or .¡± The driver took another puff from the vap, releasing the tension in his neck and muscles. ¡°If he does make any money it¡¯ to his mistress. Limited edition purses, only available overseas, a new sports car, a flat, all of it down the drain in her name. Honestly it just...¡± With no strength to curse, the driver stomped his foot into the ground to get the last of his anger out.
The detective folded his arms while leaning his head against the wall, thinking over the information. The driver handed back his vape bottle, and Leo wiped the top part with his sweater. ¡°You said it was the fourth time the cheque bounced. Why keep working for him?¡±
¡°My company has a business package with his furniture place, so I can¡¯t really just say no...Further more, the man¡¯s a weasel. He would legit break down crying in front of everyone to make me look bad if I kept pushing him. Like I was a loan shark or something. He¡¯s got no pride, no shame. Worse, doesn¡¯t bother to hide the fact he has another women when he¡¯s working.¡± The driver then twitched an eyebrow at a thought. ¡°Now that I think about it. That cheapskate might be pretty happy right now.¡±
¡°How so?¡±
¡°I mean. Mistress is an insurance broker. Wife¡¯s dead. Do the math and you get yourself both money and a brand new woman to dote on. ¡±
== TO BE CONTINUED ==>
CID Team Office in Precinct 23
CID Team B¡¯s office was a large square room right across from the Inspector¡¯s office. Some of the windows inside gave a good view of the busy city streets. Bright florescent lights hanging from the ceiling kept tired eyes awake for the late hours. What was supposed to be a clean white wall was instead covered in various photos, documents, and classic yarn threads pinned all over. The floor was made with wood and concrete, hidden under the thin linoleum flooring with the colors of faux marble.
There were four workstations each armed with a standard issue PC tower, two 1080px monitors, a public phone with multiple speed dials, a multi-port charging station for phones and police tablets, and a waste basket that was too small for its line of duty.
Sergeant Leo approached one wall in the office that was not covered up in hordes of paper and pinned notes. Rather it was dark, had a slight reflection like a tinted window, and had finger smudges all over. The detective gave the wall a double tap with one hand, awakening it as a large touch screen platform. He used his hands to press large lettered buttons to write down his log in number and password. Once his access has been confirmed, it revealed a home screen and spilled out several digital folders into orderly fashion like a game of Solitaire.
Among the array he eyed the folder [CASE057: SARAH TUCKER] and tapped it with his palm. The folder expanded, opening up a collection of digital photos of the corpse and crime scenes, documents made by the investigation team, as well as new mini-notes that were updated real time by Constable Jenny and Jackson as they gathered info, appearing as small text messages in the corner.
¡°...Something isn¡¯t right about this case.¡± Leo eyed the dismembered corpse. He checked any comments among them ¨C no update on the head, hips, or any other fingers. He even brought up the photo of the thumb they found to double check. The detective placed his hands on his hips and spoke out loud. ¡°New document. Title: Shangri-Lah Office, Re: Tucker¡¯s Affair. Log as Leo.¡±
A new digital document was formed and it opened on another section of the wall. Leo walked in a slow stride, talking as he moved. ¡°Frank Tucker has an affair, suggested to have been for some time ¨C period. Currently having Jackson to look into the mistress and get her name and background ¨C period. Frank Tucker¡¯s business has been declining, spending too much money and time on mistress¡¯s lifestyle ¨C period. Could Sarah Tucker¡¯s murder be related to love and finance ¨C question mark? If we find more info on the mistress, could she be involved ¨C question mark? Witness mentioned mistress was an insurance agent ¨C semicolon ¨C we found the life insurance policy for Sarah Tucker, payout is five million, all funds designated to husband Frank Tucker ¨C period. Save File.¡±
Leo turned to the screen just as it finished documenting his words. He read it over, double checking and making any auto-correct changes. He took a moment to glance at the pictures of the dismembered corpse and at his own documents, brow furrowed as he muttered under his breath. ¡°If this was all about the insurance, why hack up his wife into pieces? I get the smokescreen, but what are the odds we never find the head, or even the thumb? Has asthma, doubt he could survive long enough to kill let alone hack a body into seven clean pieces... But he does own a furniture company, cutting tools and equipment available perhaps?¡±
While Leo spoke to himself the microphone on the smart-wall picked up his words and continued to type his thoughts down on digital paper. It took him a while before he noticed and he brought up the on-screen keyboard to hit the backspace. ¡°Delete. Delete. Delete!¡±
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BANG!
Leo jolted from the office door suddenly flinging open. His hand slipped and he deleted half of his report. With a growl he hit the undo command to bring it all back and saved it before any sudden noises scared him again.
¡°McLamb!? What the h¡ªI know you don¡¯t have to knock at work, but what was that about!¡±
¡°L-Leo! Wheeeze! Y-You n-not gonna believe this but¡ªwheeze!¡±
¡°For crying out loud greenhorn, the water cooler is over there! Drink, that¡¯s an order go!¡±
Constable McLamb braced against the wall as he kept downing one paper cup of water after another from the water cooler near the smart-wall. Leo shook his head and he filled one cup for himself, half cold half hot. Before he could take a sip however, McLamb swiped it out of his hand to gulp for the 10th time.
Leo stared at his empty hand, groaning. ¡°What¡¯s got into you? You look like you saw a ghost.¡±
¡°N-not a ghost, Leo, a nurse!¡± McLamb took a few deep breaths and refilled his 11th cup to calm down. ¡°Mrs. Tucker k-killed someone!¡±
¡°...Hold on what? When was this?¡± Leo looked around to see if anyone was listening before leaning in. ¡°How can that be possible? Jenny did a full criminal check on Sarah Tucker as well as Frank Tucker ¨C both clean. If Sarah did kill someone, Jenny would have told us by now.¡±
¡°I-it¡¯s not like a murder murder, hear me out!¡± McLamb coughed as he held up his hands, waving them to try and get his words out. ¡°It-it was a medical accident. An old lady who practically lived in the hospital told me.¡± McLamb stole another gulp of water, choked and coughed, and cleared his throat before he continued. ¡°Due to the Tucker¡¯s constantly arguing, the wife Sarah started to lose focus and patience at her work. One night shift she was on the front desk phone complaining to a friend who worked at another floor, and she completely ignored any patient call bells. One of them had a heart attacked, tried to call for help, but Sarah never came and he ended up dying. The family wanted to sue Sarah for negligence.¡±
Leo folded his arms around his chest, curious ¡°How come no arrest was made?¡±
¡°The hospital have their own internal investigation team. You know how to check to see if it was pure accident, negligence, or miscommunication. They also have their own uuh, how do I say it ¡®court¡¯ system with their own medical judges and lawyers.¡± McLamb tugged at the collar of his hoodie to vent some cold air into his body. ¡°Sarah Tucker got off with a slap on the wrist, given less shifts, and had a slight demotion from team leader. The big brand hospital took care of the family, worked out a deal, and kept it under wraps ¨C that¡¯s why she has no criminal record in our system.¡±
¡°Typical.¡± Leo shook his head and rubbed at his chin. ¡°So you¡¯re suggesting her murder could be involved with the patient¡¯s family? When was this?¡±
McLamb took in a deep breath to stand back straight. ¡°Recent! About two months ago. Also, the old lady told me this: one of the patient¡¯s family member, the son, was not happy about the compromise his siblings agreed to. Found out he returned to the hospital to threaten Sarah Tucker for the death of his father, even attacked her. Security were called.¡±
¡°Was a name ever give on who this guy was?¡±
¡°Jim Lawton. owns a butcher shop near Central.¡±
Leo¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°Cuts through bones.¡±
McLamb nodded with a grin. ¡°Professionally!¡±
== TO BE CONTINUED ==>
Happy Valley Meat Shop
Happy Valley Meat Shop was located on the corner of 8th Street and Hemmingway Road, a small store with large windows across the front and a narrow door. The window displaying a wide range of cold cuts, chops of pigs and cows, pile of animal intestines stacked up like some sort of modern art, and list of custom sizes with their respective prices drawn by highlighter like paint usually seen at car sales company.
Sergeant Leo and Constable McLamb pushed through the tight glass door. Immediately they spotted the butcher in the corner, swinging a large cleaver to sever a thick cow femur bone. One swing and two clean pieces were made to reveal fresh bone marrow.
The detective exchanged a glance to the constable and approached, ¡°Excuse me sir.¡±
The large and well rounded butcher glanced up with a furrowed brow. A half-hearted swing of his wrist and he stuck the corner of the knife into the chopping board, making it stand up like a sword in the stone. He wiped off the blood, grease, and bone shards from his thick and grubby hands, smearing more red and yellow over his stained apron. With a small huff, he picked up a tray of chopped meat and bones, turning his back on the officers as he waddled to a backdoor.
¡°I said, EXCUSE ME!¡± Leo stepped forward, hand near the holster hidden under his jacket. ¡°We need to talk, right now!¡±
The butcher stopped in his track, head reeling back with a groan. He dropped the tray down on another counter and waddled back, hands on the board near the standing knife.
¡°I.R.S.?¡±
Leo pinched his nose bridge, ¡°No. We¡¯re here to talk to you about a murder case.¡±
¡°Bruh.¡± The butcher shrugged with open hands, gesturing to all the animal corpses in his store, entrails dangling on display hooks labelled with discounts, ¡°People like¡¯em fresh. I¡¯m just doing my job!¡±
¡°N-no, w-we¡¯re not from PETA, sir,¡± McLamb stepped in showing his police card, ¡°C.I.D.¡±
¡°Oh! Coppers. Pffff.¡± The butcher burst a deep sigh of relief...then waddled to the backroom.
¡°HEY!¡± Leo barked as he marched after the man, ¡°Have some respect! We¡¯re here to talk about the assault case you committed!¡±
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¡°Whoa, whoa, whoooooa!¡± The butcher stopped in his tracks with his hands up, all color draining from his face, ¡°I did not hit her! I did not! Oh heyll no Marky boy!!¡±
McLamb swallowed a lump in his throat, ¡°Wh-who are you talking about? Who did you hit?¡±
¡°I just said: no one! And hey, if this is all coming from my ex-wife, she¡¯s insane! Like legit! Diagnosed ¨C sociopath!¡± The butcher shook his head, hands up where everyone can see them. ¡°Never struck a woman in my life, momma taught me better. Yeah no, that ex-wife is lying through her teeth like she always does. She just wants more than the alimony I give her ¨C the gold digger! My only regret was letting her deal with my taxes! She took every penny from me AND frame me for domestic abuse! It¡¯s bull!¡±
Leo and McLamb eased the tension in their body. They exchanged another look with each other and McLamb pulled out his phone. He tapped on the screen, showing the photo of a certain victim.
¡°A month ago, Nurse Sarah Tucker neglected to care for your father who died of a heart attack.¡± McLamb held the phone closer when the butcher had to squint his eyes to see. ¡°You gave her a death threat and attacked her at St. Marlene Hospital. Even the court placed a restraining order on you. Now Sarah Tucker is dead, chopped up into seven pieces and--¡±
¡°Oh. Hold up. Hold ¨C up.¡± The butcher made a pushing gesture with his hands to deny the reality he was given. He made slow and steady steps away from his cleaver, and exited it from around the counter to approach the two officers. ¡°I think there is a misunderstanding, officers. My papi is alive ¨C and well, thank you very much.¡±
The detective and constable dropped their hands from their holster. They couldn¡¯t help but stare at the butcher, who took this chance to start breathing again.
¡°My old man just got hitched to a hooker while he was in Vegas. Said love at first sight. I meaaaaaan, man¡¯s been without my ma for a decade, I gueeeess he has the right to find happiness in strange places.¡±
McLamb¡¯s face cringed with realization. ¡°A-are you Jim Lawton?¡±
¡°Oh hiiiim? Nah, nah. My name is Zach Woods, I¡¯m his assistant.¡±
When the officers eased up on the atmosphere, the butcher Zach took small steps backward. He pulled up a huge 2 liter milk jug full of water and took several deep gulps to hydrate himself. He dabbed his lips and the sweat off his forehead with the back of his arm.
McLamb peered through the open rooms in the store, ¡°Where is Jim, your employer?¡±
¡°452 Charlotte¡¯s Web Drive.¡±
¡°Wait.¡± Leo pulled out his phone and typed in the address. Results came back and he glared. ¡°That¡¯s a cemetery.¡±
Zach sipped his water jug, ¡°Applewood Memorial Gardens. Right near the willow tree. You can¡¯t miss it.¡±
== TO BE CONTINUED ==>
Update in the Inspectors Office
Inspector May paced about in her office. Her head hung low, hands crossed behind her back. The heels of her shoe dropped heavy clicks in the office room. Every step she made caused Sergeant Leo and Constable McLamb to fidget in their seats.
¡°Constable Jenny confirmed.¡± Inspector May sighed. ¡°Jim Lawton died in a car crash several weeks prior Sarah Tucker being reported missing.¡±
Leo pursed his lip and McLamb couldn¡¯t resist rubbing his neck. Both men flinched when the inspector dove down between them like a hawk, perching her hands on the back of their chairs with white knuckles.
¡°Furthermore: A few hours ago, I got a call from some of the officers watching over the crime scene at Adam¡¯s Pulp Factory. Seemed various self-proclaimed True Crime YouTubers and Mystery Hunt Twitch streamers snuck in and started filming the place, causing a big mess. They said they were helping us and the viewers to track down the notorious Splitter. Even boasted they should get a Citizen¡¯s Award, tch.¡± shook her head. ¡°After their we¡¯ve received too many anonymous calls, public warnings, even complaints ¨C all talking about Splitter this and Splitter that.¡±
¡°Like we said, Madam.¡± Leo turned in his seat. ¡°The real killer is hiding the true intent of Sarah Tucker¡¯s murder. And they have the internet to stir up a storm to blind us. The killer is hoping for the public to pressure the police for a quick conclusion. Then we¡¯ll miss out on the real evidence the culprit left behind.¡±
¡°Which is exactly why I am asking you both ¨C politely ¨C to hurry up!¡±
McLamb raised a hand to speak. A glance from the inspector¡¯s glare nailed his voice mute. However, Leo gestured a head to the constable and forced him to voice his true thoughts.
¡°J-Ahem-Jim Lawton had obvious motive to kill, but since we confirmed he is out of the picture this leaves two potential suspects to consider.¡±
¡°Now we have two more? Who?¡± Inspector May pushed off their seats, folding their arm.
¡°Frank Tucker and his mistress.¡± Leo answered. ¡°I got an eye witness stating they have been having relations for some time, even in the office. Frank Tucker spends more money on her luxury than he does saving his company. McLamb also mentioned Sarah Tucker found out and it affected her performance at work, causing the death of Jim Lawton¡¯s father.¡±
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¡°Sergeant.¡± Inspector combed her fingers through her hair. ¡°I¡¯ve seen my fair share of love triangles gone bad, before and after I joined the force. I think this case is a little extreme. A divorce would¡¯ve been cheaper, don¡¯t you think?¡±
Leo tapped a hand on the rim of his chair. ¡°The mistress was also an insurance broker.¡±
¡°Oh. So, classic insurance fraud? Typical.¡± Inspector May tilted her head to the side with a pursed lip. ¡°What¡¯s her name?¡±
¡°I got Jackson to do a profile check on her. I¡¯m waiting for his call.¡± The moment he said that, Leo¡¯s phone rang. Not waiting, he picked it up and listened to it. A few nods, okays, and he ended the line. ¡°Felicia Harvey. Works for Precious Life Insurance company. 26 years old and has been seeing behind the wife¡¯s back for some time. She is in charge of both Tucker¡¯s insurance files.¡±
¡°Get someone to find this Harvey woman for questioning. I want no stone go unturned. When we have too many noise from social media, I don¡¯t want to miss a single detail in this case.¡±
¡°Yes Madam.¡± McLamb leaned forward in his seat. ¡°Also, maybe Frank Tucker not only wants insurance money? I¡¯ve heard of Patreon and Kickstarter groups who raise funds online to help the kin of victims from death and accidents. Virtually, the husband could become very rich from a single death.¡±
¡°The question remains: why dismemberment?¡± Inspector May waved a finger in the air. ¡°I can see why the Splitter, a well known criminal still on the loose ¨C you mix up a lie with the truth and people would believe it to be real. However, I read Frank Tucker¡¯s file. Has asthma, poor physical health, and has zero butcher or surgical experience. ¡± She then swept her finger into an open palm. ¡°Alright. Say he did use his carpentry equipment at his ¨C why is her head still missing?¡±
¡°True.¡± McLamb nodded. ¡°Not being able to immediately identify his wife could jeopardize the plan to get insurance pay. It¡¯s a big gamble. If we hadn¡¯t found the thumb in the ravine, I don¡¯t think we would ever figure out who the body belonged to.¡±
¡°Exactly.¡± Inspector May swung a light slap across the back of McLamb¡¯s chair, starling the constable. ¡°And insurance companies don¡¯t pay coverage for missing people. orst investment plan ever.¡± With a huff, she would back around her desk to sit down and adjust her posture. ¡°Whoever killed Sarah Tucker isn¡¯t stupid. Everything has been planned out: luring Sarah Tucker, masking her death as another Splitter victim, riling the media to kick up a dust storm, and having the police looking the other way. At this point, there is only one thing we can do.¡±
The constable raised an eyebrow. ¡°What would that be, Inspector?¡±
¡°Follow the money. Now get going!¡±
== TO BE CONTINUED ==>
Harvey at Starlight Cafe
Starlight Cafe was one of the many popular coffeehouse brand in the Metro City. They offered wide, exotic, and novel varieties of hot and cold beverages along with baked artisan pastries. They were usually found sitting in the bellies of popular malls such as Miracle Plaza.
Constable Jenny and Constable Jackson tried to be comfortable. The cafe seats were small and the table had a bit of a wobble. The ambience in the mall was loud: people chatting, kids splashing in the play fountain, mall music blaring random songs, and adults chatting on their phones. The area around them was too open, making any escape unpredictable.
Jenny frowned at the festive atmosphere, especially when she kept tugging on Jackson¡¯s sleeve to get him to stop staring at women in fancy clothing. She pulled out her recording device and pressed a button, adjusting her posture with a police tablet on her lap. ¡°Miss Felicia Harvey, you were aware that Mr. Frank Tucker had a wife, yes?¡±
¡°Oh of course. Do I look like an innocent school girl hopeless for true love? Please, this is the 21st century. A woman can have boyfriends on her phone and still live happily ever after.¡±
Felicia Harvey sat across the cafe table from the two officers. She sipped on a cup of hot Espresso, smacking her full lips painted with lush scarlet lipstick. She spread butter across her jalapeno and cheddar scone and after one small bite, she made a lovely hum to savor the flavor. As she brushe the crumbs from hersuit and pantyhose she gave her head a light shake to free her hair about. ¡°I am terribly sorry officer. I have back to back appointments. My coffee break is the only time I can answer your questions freely. Please, ask me anything. You have, hmmmm.¡± Felicia glanced at her watch, shaking her wrist to turn the loose lethal straps around, ¡°29 minutes.¡±
Jenny g. ¡°Then I¡¯ll be direct. Do you know Sarah Tucker is dead?¡±
¡°Oh yes. Tragedy really. At first, I saw her on the news thinking it was another victim of the Splitter.¡± Felicia bit into her scone again and dabbed her lips with a napkin, ¡°that was until Frank called and told me about the dreadful news. I spent the whole night consoling him over the phone. Poor man. My heart goes out to him.¡±
¡°Soooo,¡± Jackson leaned into the conversation, the table wobble under his weight, ¡°How did you know Mr. Tucker? Love at first sight? Or just you both want to get it on.¡±
Jenny just frowned and kicked Jackson¡¯s ankle under the table.
Felicia pursed her lips into a grin. ¡°Oh my. When your fellow officer said she would be direct, I wasn¡¯t expecting a question like that. Where should I begin?¡± She tapped on her lips with a hum. ¡°Frank and I actually childhood sweethearts. ¡± She cleared her throat and playfully brushed the wrinkles her dress. ¡°Did more than just holding hands.¡±
Jackson tried not to show his smirk. Jenny remained neutral, diligently typing on her police tablet.
¡°Alas, our love was interrupted.¡± Felicia shrug. ¡°His parents had to move out of town. Haven¡¯t seen him in like forever, until I ran into him 5 years ago at the airport.¡±
¡°And like the song ¡®Sometimes When we Touch¡¯¡± Jackson smiled and literally sang out, ¡°And the passion, flaaared agaaaaain~.¡±
Felicia could not resist a small clap to praise him.
Jennydied of cringe inside.
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¡°A
Jenny cleared her throat, holding up her tablet as some sort of wall to her body, ¡°Mrs. Tucker ever suspect it was you?¡±
¡°Well. Frank told me that his wife knew about him having another woman.¡± Felicia tapped the corner of her lips, avoiding her lipstick. ¡°As for whether or not if she knew...The last time I saw her alive was when she came to my office to sign the paper. At the time she was smiling, nice, happy, head over heels for her ¡®perfect husband¡¯. I doubt she was an award winning actress, so no I do not believe she knew it was me who took her husband away.¡±
¡°The policy,¡± Jenny copy of documents , ¡°The pay out is $10 million dollars, correct?¡±
¡°...Yeeeeees? I mean, I did wrote it afterall.¡±
¡°Was everything done properly?¡±
¡°I don¡¯t like your tone, officer.¡± Felicia¡¯s eye twitch and she . ¡°Regardless of my relationship with Frank, I am a professional. Every document, every paper, every signature has been done to the letter. Approved and legal.¡±
Jenny stared at Felicia, the latter made sure the feeling was mutual. Jackson glance back and forth, confused , until the weight of the atmosphere made him realize it. He cleared his throat, to break up any invisible catfight and adjusted his fedora to the situation.
¡°10 mil,¡± Jackson made a short whistle, ¡°That¡¯s a lot of dough. So much so, it¡¯s killing someone over.¡±
¡°If you are implying Frank killed his wife for this money, then I can assure you,¡± Felicia turned to Jackson and he felt ice up his spine, ¡°Frank would never murder his wife. Of course, it sounds strange coming from his ¡®mistress¡¯. I knew Frank since we were kids. Whenever he faces a problem, he often procrastinate or avoid it. Rarely would he explode into a frenzy and, what, turn his wife of 20 years into chopped lobster. He keeps it under his own hat.¡±
Jenny took in a deep breath, ¡°Have there been any moments where you asked Mr. Tucker to make a choice in your relationship?¡±
¡°Of course I have, officer. What woman wouldn¡¯t want the man in the love triangle to look at her and only her. I respect his dedication, but as his lover it often pained me when he had to leave my side to go and calm down that stubborn woman who treat him like garbage.¡± Felicia rolled her eyes at the remark and leaned in her seat, rocking back and forth. ¡°I confess, there were some moments where I felt lonely, vulnerable, frustrated. I sometimes tell him he can only pick one: me, or his boring wife... After we calm down with some wine we make up and I try not to bring it up again.¡±
Jackson had his chin on his hand and a finger tapping his cheek. ¡°When you heard Mrs. Tucker disappeared, what were your thoughts? Initially?¡±
¡°Surprise. Shock even. I was worried for Frank, he was running around town trying to look for her. He had time to keep my company and I thoroughly understood his feelings,¡± Felicia paused and the muscle in her cheeks clench, ¡°hen he told me about what happened to her... I felt so bad for him. I wanted to console him, spend time to help him with his grief, but he told me the detectives ¨C you both ¨C would be coming and going. Given how...awkward the situation had become, we thought it would be best we kept our distance for now.¡±
Jenny typed into her tablet. Without looking up she asked, ¡°And you had absolutely no strong emotion in regards to Mrs. Tucker¡¯s death?¡±
¡°If you are implying am I happy she¡¯s gone, no. I only met her a few times in my life. I respect Frank¡¯s wishes and keep our contact discreet. Besides,¡± Felicia flicked a hand up with a pfft gesture, ¡°I honestly thought she ran off with him and not got chopped up into pieces.¡±
Jackson raised an eyebrow. ¡°Him as in Mr. Tucker?¡±
Felicia picked up a napkin. She quietly wiped each of her fingers, slow and intentional. Jenny and Jackson couldn¡¯t help but examine her movement as she rubbed her hands across the napkin the whole time. Once she was finished she dropped it in a ball across the table and sipped her espresso.
¡°No~¡±
== TO BE CONTINUED ==>
An Office in St. Marlenes Hospital
¡°Dr. Malcolm, how well did you know Sarah Tucker?¡±
¡°Miss Sarah is, er...sorry, was, a great nurse. Her loss was extremely tragic.¡±
Constable Jenny and Constable Jackson sat inside a small doctor¡¯s office. It was a square room with only bookshelves full medical textbooks, an office desk with a computer, and a display of a skeleton model in the corner.
They sat across from Dr. Samuel Malcolm. A man in his mid-40s with a square jaw, a soft and well cropped moustache, and his hairline already receding into a clean M. A pair of heavy glasses sunk into his face. Whenever he rubbed his nosebridge the pits made by the pads were evident.
¡°I do apologize, officers,¡± Dr. Malcolm spoke up while adjusting his thick spectacles, ¡°I am willing to cooperate with your questions, however I have to conduct a surgery for a patient in an hour.¡±
¡°Alrighty roo, let¡¯s get down to business,¡± Jackson leaned back into seat, legs crossed, one elbow propped on the arm rest and spun his fedora on his finger before popping it back on his head, ¡°Is it true, you had an affair with Sarah Tucker and tried to elope with her?¡±
¡°JACKSON!¡± Jenny slapped her partner in the arm with her tablet, and raised up a hand towards the doctor with concern, ¡°I, am so so so sorry. He meant was¡ª¡±
¡°No no, he¡¯s right. I think at this time, there is no point hiding it anymore.¡± Dr. Malcolm pulled off his glasses and tossed them onto the files of patient records. He covered his mouth to hide a guilty frown and closed his eyes with a deep breath, ¡°Sarah and I knew each other for a good while. As colleagues at first. We had many ups and downs in our life and I think what attracted us to each other was,¡± the doctor gave a heavy sigh, ¡°was how lonely we were.¡±
Jenny fell silent. She took a moment to clear her throat, and shrugged off the awkward feeling as she began typing out the minutes of the interview on her tablet. ¡°From the beginning, Dr. Malcolm. How did you meet Sarah?¡±
Dr. Malcolm sucked in air into his lungs, held it, and gave a heavy exhale that made his moustache shudder, ¡°I met Sarah two years ago. I work as an orthopaedic surgeon and I often travel between hospitals, including St. Marlene. When I got lost here on the first day, Sarah found me and showed me the way. Over time in my visits, I often worked closely with her patients, and by chance herself. There was this odd attraction between us, like magnets. Sometimes I can¡¯t help but take glances at her when she worked. Often times, I catch her glancing back at me. It sounds silly, but it¡¯s hard to explain the feeling whenever we, you know...¡± Dr. Malcolm ended up drumming his fingers.
Jackson gave a shrug, ¡°What was it about Sarah Tucker that allured you? Her good looks? Her feminine charms? Or the fact she was married?¡±
Jenny clenched her jaw and tried to focus on typing her notes, not commenting.
Dr. Malcolm had a mixed smile: half nostalgia, half disappointment, ¡°Yes. I knew she was married. Her ring and the gossip from her co-workers were apparent. I honestly kept my distance after knowing. Only spoke to Sarah when the job required it, professionally. But.¡± The doctor shook his head at a distant thought. ¡°I couldn¡¯t help myself. And neither could Sarah. As to what about her that captivated me: it was her eagerness to challenge herself. She always went out of her way to learn something new, even outside her scope of practice, for the sake of improving health care for her patients. It¡¯s ¨C sorry ¨C it was an admirable trait about her.¡±
The doctor clasped his hands into a steeple with a chuckle. ¡°Sarah even took a shine to my work in orthopaedics. She had a keen and attentive eye. Brave, not many nurses enjoy this field of medicine. Eventually, I took her in as a personal assistant. Everyone in the hospital saw Sarah as a star pupil. Gave us a good excuse to always be together without suspicion.¡±
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Jenny looked up from typing, ¡°When was the last time you saw Mrs. Tucker?¡±
¡°Earlier this month,¡± Dr. Malcolm would glance left and right at his desk, his steeple hands caving into a fragile prayer, ¡°Some time before she disappeared, Sarah and I had, um. Uuuh....Ahem. Formally ended our relationship.¡±
Jackson perked an eyebrow and leaned forward in his seat, ¡°So what? Years of affair, over, done? Gone?¡± He made a slicing gesture with his hand over his throat with a short slashing whistle. ¡°Just like that? Full stop period?¡±
¡°We...called it off.¡± The doctor shifted in his seat at his answer, ¡°Sarah, suddenly told me she still loved her husband. She said he changed his ways, was willing to give up on the woman he was seeing and they wanted to start over. I mean, officer, w-we had a peaceful chat. We respected one another and I loved her from the bottom of my heart.¡± Dr. Malcolm closed his eyes to take a mental break, a few deep breathing exercises to calm his blood pressure. ¡°After much decision, we decided to break it up. Go our separate ways. And to make sure we don¡¯t feel awkward, we only saw each other for work purposes. We rarely talk since them, even when we run into each other in the break room. Because of this, I didn¡¯t know she disappeared until the hospital talked about her death and...¡±
Dr. Malcolm¡¯s lips pursed, eyes clenched. He buried his face in his palms, not wanting to utter much of a sound.
Jackson exchanged at glance with Jenny. The latter shook her head, eyeing between her partner and the man who should be left alone. A deep breath, and Jackson disappointed his partner and broke the silence. ¡°Dr. Malcolm. I want to get something straight. Who started this relationship?¡±
¡°It¡ªsorry. Ahem. It was Sarah Tucker. She often gave me signals and I lost myself to the temptation.¡±
¡°And who ended this affair?¡±
¡°...Also, Sarah.¡±
Jackson did a short sigh. He took off his fedora, sat up, and leaned in close to whisper, ¡°Look, doc. I am sorry for your loss. You must have really liked her. Even your face is red just mentioning her death. I know it¡¯s not my place, but I gotta ask...Did you ever, even for a moment, had a smiiiiidge of a doubt that, hmmmm.¡± He tapped his finger on his hat, a short hesitation. ¡°That your romance was...bait?¡±
¡°Bait?" Jenny perked her head in confusion. Before she could say anything, her partner gave her a quiet nudge. It took her a moment before her lips went, ¡°Ooooh.¡±
The doctor rubbed his face with his palms as if massaging every fibre in his cheek and forehead. He dropped his palm with a light slap across the desk, staring at the papers with the eyes of a dead fish. ¡°In hindsight, you may be right Constable. A married woman starting a relationship with me, only to return to her husband. Maybe I¡¯ve spent too much time studying and surgery, I lost myself in that sweet dream of love and romance...Wait.¡± He raised a hand up to stop his original thoughts, ¡°O-on the day Sarah called it off, she, she mentioned that her husband knew about us.¡±
Jackson and Jenny eyes widened. The former dragged his chair closer with a creaaak, and leaned in to hear better. ¡°Frank Tucker knew?¡±
¡°Y-yes.¡± The doctor nodded, confused with himself. ¡°The way she said it, it sounded like he knew for quiet a while, maybe more than months. At the time my head was so muddled up, so heart broken it never really occurred to me, until you started asking today.¡±
¡°So, you¡¯re suggesting. The husband knew about your affair...and did nothing about it? Not even charge into your office? Smash up your car? Call you anonymously in the middle of the night?¡±
¡°N-no nothing. Actually, Frank rarely comes into the hospital. At most he shows up during potlucks carrying food for his wife, but he usually stays in the parking lots to drop off and pick up Sarah.¡±
Jenny lowered her tablet to ask, ¡°You mentioned Mrs. Tucker called off the relationship, because her husband wanted her back. Are you sure that is what she said?¡±
¡°I was just as confused,¡± Dr. Malcolm responded with a paling face, ¡°I am not a psychologist, but I don¡¯t think any average man would ever let his woman dally with another and not say anything. Let alone, you know, have them come back to their side as if nothing happened.¡±
Jenny took a moment to think it over before asking, ¡°What are you suggesting, Dr. Malcolm?¡±
¡°I-I am not suggesting anything constable, but I can¡¯t help but wonder. A husband lets his wife have an affair with another man. Calls her back. Only then to have her body discovered in seven pieces shortly after?¡±
== TO BE CONTINUED ==>
The Tuckers Apartment
Frank Tucker sat on the love seat in the middle of his apartment. Surrounded by marble walls and gold-framed lights, all he could do was fold his hands behind his head and lean back to stare up at the dim ceiling.
His feet were propped across the glass counter top. They wave back and forth with the grace of a piano metronome; a soft tick, tock, tick, tock. The toes would often flick the corners of the newspaper and magazine he had piled up. Each and every one of their headline and leading topic were about the Splitter, the killing spree, and ¡®When will the Police Catch him!?¡¯.
The husband relaxed, listening to the music. An acoustic guitar, playing a soft Latino dance. Deep down, he wanted to dance along to the beat. Eyes closed, feet waving to the rhythm of the light music. Relaxed. Reminiscing.
A deep breath, and he shut out the world outside of his¡ª
Dim Dim Dim.
Frank Tucker flinched. Was that the sound of a bell? In the music? Odd, he heard it over a thousand times. There was never a¡ª
Ding dong, Ding Dong
The husband bolted sitting up. The sound of the bell wasn¡¯t from the music. He realized it was coming from the door. Who could it be? So late in this hour? Just in case he turned on the TV and tried to look at the security camera at the front gate.
Nothing out of the ordinary.
Ding dong, Ding Dong. Ding dong, Ding Dong.
Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.
The sound of a fist pounding at his door got his attention. The man staggered to his feet, watching as his front door shaking from each strike from someone outside. After a few more banging noises, he forced himself to walk over in a hesitant shuffle.
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A shaking hand reached out, removing several of the locks and--
¡°Mr. Frank Tucker. I am Inspector May from C.I.D. You are under arrest for the murder of Sarah Tucker. This is our search warrant.¡±
The inspector marched through the door while holding up a folded piece of court documents. Following her closely was her C.I.D. team Constable Jenny and Jackson, along with several other men in uniform.
¡°Wait! What? Murder? What are you doing stop!¡± Frank Tucker waved his hand in protest, to try and stop the horde of policemen wandering around in his home. Jenny and Jackson came over to put their hands on his shoulder to keep him still. ¡°Inspector this is crazy! I am the victim! Why are you arresting me!?¡±
Inspector May tugged on her suit, ¡°We have reasons to suspect you are involved with the murder of Sarah Tucker. This is search warrant approved by the courts. We¡¯re given the right to gather evidence in your residence pertaining to the case.¡± She heard footsteps come into the door and looked over. Sergeant Leo and Constable McLamb arrived, along with several forensic specialists carrying briefcases. ¡°Check everywhere, start with the bathroom first. Look for any signs of blood of removed gore.¡±
The sergeant and constable nodded and led the forensic team into the house. Frank Tucker choked on his words, his face turning red with a mix of anger and confusion. ¡°Inspector! Inspector! You made a mistake! The killer is the Splitter, why aren¡¯t you looking for the serial killer!¡±
¡°Mr. Frank Tucker.¡± Inspector May groaned. ¡°You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say as of now will be recorded and used against you in court of law. You also have the right to an attorney. If you don¡¯t have one, we will appoint a lawyer to defend on your beh--¡±
¡°INSPECTOR! LISTEN TO MEEEE!¡± Frank Tucker lunged forward, only to be gripped by Jenny and Jackson as they fixed the handcuffs on his arms. ¡°YOU GOT THE WRONG MAN! I SWEAR, I LOVE SARAH! SHE IS MY WIFE! I WOULD NEVER¡ªhaaack¡ªNEVER! EVER¡ªwheeze¡ªHARM, HA, HAAA, HAAAAAAANNNN¡ª¡±
Coughs and wheezes burst from Frank Tucker¡¯s mouth. The more he tried to speak, the more his face turned from red to blue. He lurched over, knees buckled, and he suddenly fell over to the side, knocking Jenny and Jackson onto their knees.
¡°Sh¡ªHold him still!¡± Inspector May raced over and searched the man¡¯s pockets. After turning out his pockets to spill his wallet and loose change, she found an inhaler. A hard shake, popped the cap off, and shoved it into Frank Tucker¡¯s mouth, motioning him to inhale. A press, deep breaths, the color in his face stopped darkening but his eyes were dazed. Once his reaction was settled, the inspector clawed a hand over her face. ¡°Get an ambulance. Now!¡±
== TO BE CONTINUED ==>
Verdict at Police Precinct 23
¡°We had a search warrant approved. The suspect is in ICU. And we still got NOTHING!?¡±
Inspector May slammed her tablet onto her desk. Even with a hard case, a new crack was added onto the screen and the photo stands on the tabletop tumbled over. She paced in a circle behind her office desk, shoving aside her chair and rubbing her face.
Sergeant Leo and Constable had returned from the forensic office, standing in front of her. McLamb flinched when the chair was shoved over, making him swallow a lump in his throat. Leo on the other hand ignored it, busy tapping a fist to his forehead to beat the headache out.
¡°Even I don¡¯t get it Madam.¡± Leo mumbled. ¡°This man has the motive, the means, and perhaps the opportunity but we checked everywhere. Bathroom, closet, bedroom, storage, even the kitchen.¡± The sergeant waved his tablet, showing the files he received, ¡°None of them showed any signs of murder or dismembering a corpse. Not even so much as arterial splatter in the corners or ceiling. All the knives in his kitchen are accounted for, no human blood. Forensics confirmed, the Tuckers¡¯ apartment is not the first scene of the crime. Sarah was killed somewhere else.¡±
McLamb stepped up, gripping onto his tablet tightly, ¡°W-we also searched his furniture company, did a full sweep from top to bottom. Other than old blood on some equipment of employees losing fingers, nothing that indicated Frank Tucker used his company to dismember the body.¡±
¡°This isn¡¯t a sci-fi horror. There is no way you can cleanly chop up a body without the right tools and not leave a trace!¡± Inspector May shook her head. ¡°And who suggested the body was cut up in the bathroom? Who!?¡±
McLamb froze. Just as he honestly made a motion to raise his arm, Leo quietly pushed his hand back down to say, ¡°Jackson.¡±
Inspector May cringed, pinching her nose bridge. ¡°I will make him eat his badge for breakfast.¡± She then kicked her chair to turn it around and plopped right into the seat. Dragging herself to her desk, she balanced her elbows on the table so she could rest her forehead on her folded hands. ¡°Twitter, Facebook, and even the true crime community on YouTube have locked in the murderer is the Splitter. I talked to the crown prosecutor, she said if we don¡¯t find any damning evidence that only Frank Tucker could have committed Sarah Tucker¡¯s murder, the jury won¡¯t buy it and give him the benefit of a doubt.¡±
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She then tapped a tired finger on her office phone. ¡°The situation with the real Splitter hasn¡¯t improved. The other team at Precinct 18 still don¡¯t have a lead. The public has been breathing down the Commissioner¡¯s neck. Worse case scenario, he¡¯ll ask us to forget about Frank Tucker and conduct a joint investigation with the other team.¡±
Leo gave the inspector a moment before he stepped forward. ¡°Out of all the potential suspects, I believe Frank Tucker stood to gain the most. Man has been in debt, wife has an insurance policy. Kill her and get the money. Rich man with new woman.¡±
¡°You say that, but this Dr. Malcolm has the means.¡± Inspector May returned a shrug with her hands. ¡°Surgeon. And does Orthopaedics. Can sever a leg in a blink of an eye with little to no scars.¡±
¡°Dr. Malcolm had no motive,¡± nodded McLamb. ¡°True to his words he kept his distance from Sarah since they broke up. Even the staff noticed them being business like, not like before. And he felt more guilt in having an affair with a married woman.¡±
¡°Sarah played the doctor like a fiddle to lure her husband back. Once his use was over, the good doctor was cast aside like an abandoned puppy in a cardboard box. I think that¡¯s motivation enough for spiteful murder. He¡¯s on the list until further notice.¡± The inspector rubbed the tip of her steepled hand across her nose bridge. ¡°What about the mistress, Felicia Harvey?¡±
¡°After Jenny and Jackson interviewed her, it was clear she disliked Sarah,¡± McLamb reported. ¡°As for motive, most likely jealous. Other than having Frank Tucker for herself, she wouldn¡¯t benefit much from Sarah¡¯s death.¡± The Constable bobbed his head left and right with a shrug. ¡°At most, the insurance money she set up for Sarah might benefit her, but then again given how Frank was already in debt because of this affair, I don¡¯t think it will last. And like you mentioned, inspector, why go through all the trouble to make it look like a serial killer murder.¡±
¡°Frank Tucker is the key to this.¡± Leo tapped his knuckle onto the inspector¡¯s desk. ¡°Ever since he came to identify his wife, it has been bugging me the way he looked at her. The question of why the head and pelvis is still missing? Why was only the thumb the only thing we could truly identify her corpse? Once we find the answer to any of these, we can definitely pin the murder on him.¡±
Inspector May rubbed her nose with her steeple hands. After a few tired nods, she stopped and let out a deep sigh. ¡°You all have 48 hours. Frank Tucker is in custody at the hospital, but he won¡¯t be available for questioning until tomorrow morning. If none of you can find any solid evidence before the timer is up, Frank Tucker has to go scot free...and we will officially start joint operations with Precinct 18 to catch the Splitter.¡±
Leo and McLamb wanted to protest. All the inspector had to do was raise her hand to shut them down.
¡°Commissioner¡¯s orders.¡±
== TO BE CONTINUED ==>
Investigations at CID Team B Office
3:05 AM. No time to sleep.
Sergeant Leo could be found standing in the office of C.I.D. Team B, downing his third can of coffee. He couldn¡¯t help but stare at the wallscreen for hours, arms folded and brow pinched. He had every file open ¨C from discovering the corpse, locating the thumb, lists of potential suspects, to even reports from searching Frank Tucker¡¯s apartment. All notes large and small were displayed and digitally labelled on every document and photo.
Leo checked at the corner of the wall screen, eyeing the live team notifications. Last read message was from Constable McLamb. 2:10 AM. The sergeant groaned, wiping a hand over his face. He left his nose in his palm as he continued to ponder on multiple lines of thought.
Then the door to the office opened.
¡°What do you have McLa¡ªOh, sorry Jenny.¡± Leo took a moment to rub his eyes. He opened them to readjust to the bright light.
Constable Jenny closed the door behind her. She carried her jean jacket in one arm and her police tablet under the other. Her hair was sticking to her face and forehead as she grabbed some Kleenex to dab the sweat off. ¡°Sorry it took so long. There was an emergency at the hospital, a whole bus full of hockey players that had a sudden case of food poisoning.¡±
¡°That¡¯s fine.¡± The sergeant took a break from the wall screen and filled up a cup of water from the office cooler for Jenny. As the constable nodded a thanks and drank at least half a cup, Leo spoke up. ¡°Anything on Dr. Malcolm?¡±
¡°Dr. Malcom was already out of town for a medical conference, five days before Sarah¡¯s time of death.¡± Jenny gulped more water before she continued. ¡°Even when he got back after we found her body, he had to attend to an emergency surgery. Hip fracture from a senior home.¡±
Leo pinched at his chin. ¡°He¡¯s clean?¡±
Jenny shrugged, ¡°Unless he found some way to freeze the body to delay the corpse decomposition AND had a plan of discarding most of the body while he was still at the conference ¨C most likely he isn¡¯t involved.¡±
The sergeant tapped a fist to his forehead. ¡°One way or another, at least he is one problem out of the way. You must be hungry, I already got Jackson to get us some food when he comes back. Get some rest.¡±
Jenny nodded and stumbled to her desk. She dropped her police tablet onto the table, sagged into her seat, and couldn¡¯t resist taking off her shoe to let her feet rest.
¡°Heyoooo!¡± Constable Jackson strode into the office, carrying several bags of take out in plastic and paper bags. ¡°Daddy¡¯s home!¡±
Leo rolled his eyes and marched over, giving the constable a light jab with a back hand in the open stomach. ¡°What took you?¡±
¡°Yeah, not gonna say traffic was murder. Puns like that are so last generation.¡± Jackson coughed to hide his cheeky smile and he passed the bags of food over to Leo. ¡°I had to stop by a few places to, uuh, call in some favors let''s just say.¡±
¡°Anything on Felicia?¡±
¡°Everything from her business life, social life, and private life.¡± Jackson snagged a large cup of soda from the take out bags and made a loud slurping sound. ¡°Felicia Harvey, workaholic. Even on her off days she is always taking calls and hunting for big money clients. It¡¯s to the point where no one can tell if she is just aggressive or addicted to her work.¡± Another sip and Jackson adjusted his fedora. ¡°Roughly around the time Sarah would have been murdered, Felicia was either at her office or meeting another client somewhere in town. That or skinning her secretary alive on FaceTime ¨C quote me on that.¡±
Leo frowned. ¡°Nothing involving with murder?¡±
¡°Nothing involving with murder.¡± Jackson mirrored. ¡°Buuuuut. On the way over, I did come across something very interested. Have you seen the latest viral video?¡±
¡°Look, Jackson. I appreciate you trying to cheer me up with cute animal videos but--¡± Before Leo could finish his sentence Jackson dragged the sergeant over to the wall screen. After pressing some buttons on his phone to send the link to the on-the-wall computer, the clip was being show. The sergeant stared for a moment. ¡°...Wait, isn¡¯t that Felicia?¡±
Jenny bolted sitting up when she heard the name. Not bothering to put her shoes back on she dashed over to the wall to join them, peeking over their shoulders.
A YouTube short played across the wall screen. Felicia Harvey was walking through the street, head held up high with a peaceful smirk. A call came. She answered. The smile shattered, into a face of confusion. Anger boiled in her eyes. She started to talk back, her voice rising into yells. People around her all stared, she turned her backs on them. Finally, she could be seen making a ¡®hello?¡¯ ¡®hello?¡¯. Finally with a violent scream she tossed her phone away ¨C only for it smash into a nearby light post and shrapnel bounced back into her face! She grabbed her cheeks with a shriek and tripped backwards. The video would then rewinded as she was in mid-fall and looped her accident from the phone exploding and her keeling over like some kind of beatbox animation.
The title of the video was [MID-LIFE CRISIS MUCH?]
3.5 Million Views, 6120 Likes, 2 Dislikes.
¡°Jackson, where¡¯s the audio?¡± Leo replayed the full clip and raised the volume. The music was so obnoxious even Jenny had to cover her ears with her jean jacket. Several officers out in the hall would peer through the office window, confused as to why there was loud booming music. No matter how hard Leo tried to listen for any ambience, all he could hear was the music thumping against the walls.
¡°Leo. Leo! LEO! IT¡¯S NO USE MAN!¡± Jackson hollered over the noise before he slapped a palm to stop the clip to stop the sound. He started to smack a fist on the volume down button. ¡°Video editing man. Most shorts like these people mute the original track and put in music to add their own spin on the video. Now, in saying that ¨C this is where I was calling in some favors.¡± Making sure the volume was low enough, the constable pinched the tip of his fedora with a smug chuckle. ¡°I went on this guy¡¯s YouTube channel and contacted him via Twitter messages. Lucky for us he is willing to help and give us a copy of the raw footage ¨C buuuut we gotta wait until after his graveyard shift as the clip is on his memory drive back home. Sooo about what five or six hours give or take, provided his boss doesn¡¯t give him overtime.¡±
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¡°I guess that¡¯s one saving grace.¡± The sergeant replayed the video and paused it just as Felicia picked up the phone. Fortunately, there was a public clock nearby and it showed the time. Leo tapped at it across the screen. ¡°Did you check the phone company?¡±
¡°You wouldn¡¯t believe who called her around that time.¡±
¡°Who?¡±
¡°Frank ¨C Tucker.¡±
Sergeant Leo and Constable Jenny exchanged confused glances after Constable Jackson responded. The sergeant would walk over to one side of the wall screen and return while dragging his hand across the screen with two pictures of Frank Tucker and Felicia Harvey. His finger tapped between them.
Leo rubbed at his chin for a moment. ¡°You¡¯re saying it was Sarah Tucker¡¯s husband calling his mistress that got her to explode like that?¡±
¡°The time checked out. The call was made about 2 hours before we raided the Tucker apartment. It was about a minute long sooo.¡± Jackson glanced at the YouTube Short, in time to see Felicia smash her phone to make it explode. Given how the short video was made, he couldn¡¯t resist laughing ¨C but stopped when the others leered. ¡°Ahem. Something definitely went down between the ¡®lovebirds¡¯. I¡¯ll keep tabs on the guy who owned the video clip.¡±
¡°You do that, and--¡± Once more Leo was interrupted when someone rushed into the office. ¡°McLamb! Finally. Did you find anything about them!?¡±
Constable McLamb panted a bit before whipping up two folders. Both of them were considerably thick, with many loose photo copy papers and tagged with bright neon yellow stick notes. He handed them over to Leo and Jackson ¨C the latter tossing it to Jenny ¨C and he snagged a cup of water from the cooler to hydrate.
¡°Okay so,¡± McLamb gulped down some water ¡°Felicia Harvey. Was born here in the Metro City, had her elementary and high school education here, then went to study abroad at Switzerland to earn her Bachelor and Masters in Business Administrations and train as an insurance agent. Eventually moved back to here in the city several years ago and has been working in Precious Life since.¡± McLamb then walked to a corner to drag the doctor¡¯s portrait, placing it right next to Felicia Harvey. ¡°Dr. Samuel Malcolm. Born and raised in the states, comes from Manhattan, New York. Whole education and medical training in New York. It¡¯s only about 5 years ago he came to the Metro City, earlier than Felicia Harvey.¡±
¡°Whoa, whoa, whoa.¡± Jackson held up a hand. ¡°Slow down there sparky. What is this about?¡±
¡°While you and Jenny were checking Felicia and Dr. Malcolm¡¯s alibi, I had a hunch they knew each other.¡± Leo kept sorting through the printed notes in the folder. ¡°Dr. Malcolm has means, but no motive. Felicia had motive, but no means. I wanted to see if there was a connection between them. Whether they ever met, learned about one another¡¯s affair, and perhaps collaborated to kill Sarah Tucker together. I already updated it on our live chat, but I didn¡¯t get any word back from you and Jenny.¡±
¡°Ah sorry Leo.¡± Jenny held up a hand in apology while. ¡°My tablet ran out of power and I forgot to turn my phone back on after asking the hospital employees.¡±
Leo gave her a nod of understanding, then frowned at Jackson, ¡°Let me guess: busy investigating YouTube Shorts?¡±
¡°Bro.¡± Jackson gestured his arms to the table full of takeout bags. ¡°God gave me two hands.¡±
McLamb waited for everyone to settle before he finished his report. ¡°No matter it be childhood, adulthood, career, or even medicine ¨C neither Felicia or Dr. Malcolm show any evidence of having met each other physically. At most we know Felicia was aware of Sarah and the doctor¡¯s affair, but Dr. Malcolm would not have know about the insurance agent. Unless they are hiding their relationship from others with an affair of their own, I¡¯ve got nothing that would link them together to Sarah Tucker¡¯s murder.¡±
¡°Everything¡¯s a dead end huh.¡± Leo mulled over the information was reading through the papers. After a moment he gave a nod and patted McLamb on the shoulder in gratitude. ¡°Worth a shot. Come on let¡¯s eat. Everyone¡¯s tired and starving.¡±
¡°Yeah.¡± Jenny sighed. She put aside the folder and went to charge her police tablet.
Jackson marched over to the desk, rubbing his hands together. ¡°Tonight¡¯s a smorgasbord ladies and gentlemen. I got the full works: Golden Dragon Expression, Taco Del, Kiara¡¯s Fried Turkey, SubHey, Him Tortin donuts and coffee, aaaaaaaaaaaand Jenny¡¯s all time favourite.¡± He dipped his hand into a paper W&A bag to pluck out, ¡°100% plant burgeeeer. On the house fam¡ªnah, you owe me $7.99 with taxes. Pay up.¡±
Jackson held out a hand, waiting for payment. Jenny marched over, slapped a tired hand into his empty palm, and swiped away the burger. Just to be sure, Jackson turned his hand front and back ¨C still empty.
¡°You¡¯re welcome.¡± The constable mumbled and pulled out a tin container to toss it to McLamb. ¡°Chicken Chow Mein with three item combo. Hope you¡¯re not allergic to deep fried Szechuan calimari. And you my man Leo, get ¨C a Happy Meal!¡± He held up a small bag with a tiny burger and fries. Leo came over without looking, dove his hand into one bag, randomly picked a submarine to eat in front of the wall screen. Jackson glanced over, but flinched and looked away from the images. ¡°Dude! Please put away the corpse photo! We¡¯re eating here! At least think about McLamb¡¯s stomach!¡±
Said McLamb glanced at the wall, before turning his chair about to have his back facing the wall screen.
Jenny grabbed a milkshake a sipped her drink as a starter before taking a big bite from her burger. It only took two chews, before she frantically waved at McLamb to whip over a waste basket to her. ¡°BLEEEEEGH!¡± She spat out her burger into the bucket, coughing and gagging. ¡°Jackson! I¡¯m vegetarian!¡±
Jackson was in the middle of biting his apple pie when his name was called over. He tapped his phone to mute the forest fairy Vtuber stream he was watching and glared back. ¡°Yeah. I know. Hence why I went out of my way to get you a plant based burger ¨C on the other end of town I might add.¡±
¡°No! This is a cheeseburger! Look!¡± Jenny waved her meal, showing two double meat patties, melted cheese, and some pickles. ¡°What kind of sick joke is this?¡±
¡°...Gurl. It¡¯s 3 in the morning. I was lucky to find a place that still sold plant based burgers at this hour! And I wouldn¡¯t blame the college part-timer who got the order wrong! Man was sleeping on his feet! Besides! Plant burgers, regular burgers, they all look the same to me!¡±
Leo stopped mid-bite with his submarine while he stared at the collection of corpse photo. His eyes lit up with a thought and he walked back over. Not saying anything he picked up Jenny¡¯s burger and examined it.
Double cheese burger, in a wrapper reading 100% plant based. He plucked out his phone, typing Plant burger, and compared the images. Bun, lettuce, tomato, plant paddy. Sometimes with or without red onions.
The detective couldn¡¯t stop looking left and right, from the bitten ¡®plant burger¡¯ and the Internet''s ¡®plant burger.¡¯
Leo gave the police wall screen one last look. He eyed the many body parts laid out on the morgue table, each of their parts cleanly sliced off at the joints. Even the fingers were not spared, save for a thumb.
¡°...Everyone drop what you¡¯re doing. Restart the investigation. Now.¡±
== TO BE CONTINUED ==>
Prison Ward at Metro General Hospital
Metro General Hospital was one of the main medical centres in the Big City. It catered to the public, to the private, and even provided medical support for even law enforcement services. They had a wing dedicated to detaining prisoners, suspects, or convicts who had fallen ill or injured themselves. Each room were small and isolated, to maintain privacy and security of the prisoner from other inmates or criminal patients. The door was protected by a metal gate that could only be opened with a key card from a designated personnel, be it an officer or a specially trained nurse.
Room Nr-B2 was where Frank Tucker was kept. The man had a hospital gown as he lied on the thin white bed, his head propped up by the electric mattress on a 45 degree tilt. He had an oxygen mask on his face and all he could do was stare at the TV. It wasn¡¯t on. Even with a remote sitting next to his lap, he made no effort to turn it on.
Beep.
The moment he heard the door click open, he bolted sitting up and pulled down his mask. Sergeant Leo and Constable McLamb entered, holding up a hand to stop Frank Tucker from jumping out of the bed. To make sure he got the picture, they also had hands on their holsters. Frank Tucker gulped and swung his legs back onto the bed. ¡°O-Officer. Officer. I¡¯m fine. Please, get a doctor to discharge me!¡±
Leo glared at Frank Tucker as he dragged two chairs from a corner. He placed them next to the patient¡¯s bed and he sat down with his partner.
¡°Sir.¡± The husband gulped, folding his hands in begging prayer. ¡°I-I really need to go. I-I have a lot of things to do a-and y-you all made a mistake!¡±
¡°Frank Tucker.¡± Leo spoke up and he pulled out a police tablet from McLamb¡¯s hand. He dropped it on the side of the bed, opening several images of the corpse in pieces. The husband looked away with pursed lips and the sergeant pressed on. ¡°Please take a closer look. Is this your wife?¡±
¡°...Wh...What are you saying, detective? O-of course it¡¯s my wife. I-I saw her, at the morgue. You were there, right? Wh-why are you asking me this ¨C now!?¡±
¡°I said, take a closer look.¡± Leo tapped the screen, making hard thumps. ¡°Why aren¡¯t you looking at the picture?¡±
¡°I-it¡¯s a corpse!¡± Frank Tucker tried to glance at the photo, but ended up clenching his eye shut and pushing the tablet away. ¡°Anyone would turn their guts inside out when they see one!¡±
McLamb fidgeted in his seat and cleared his throat. ¡°You mention before, she was your wife for 20 years. Not something you can let go so suddenly. Also, we have yet to find the head and pelvic area to truly identify her. Other than the thumb print you provided, how did you recognize the body?¡±
¡°I-I told you right?¡± Frank Tucker slapped at the bedding. He wanted to hop out, but one glare from Leo made him rethink his move. ¡°S-she had a surgical scar on her leg, and the birthmark on her back shoulder.¡±
McLamb then added. ¡°And the tattoo?¡±
¡°Tat¡ª¡±
Frank Tucker froze.
Leo leaned in and opened the image with the corpse¡¯s arm on the police tablet. The image itself was high definition, 1080 px. Even when the sergeant zoomed in ridiculously close, everyone could clearly see the pores, folds, and markings on the skin. Around the shoulder area there was an evident patch of smooth skin, hairless. Naked eyes would miss it as the color was similar as the surrounding flesh tone, but there was a unique patch of smooth skin that had a unique shape. It resembled akin to a rose flower pattern with a swirling stem.
¡°The victim¡¯s right arm had a tattoo.¡± Leo glanced at Frank Tucker as he went on. ¡°It was lasered off by a professional, who boasted they can make any tattoo disappeared. We checked his files, he never had anyone by the name of Sarah Tucker look for him.¡±
McLamb then pulled out his phone and opened some pictures. They showed Sarah Tucker, very much alive and with several other peoples on a beach front. He placed his phone next to the police tablet and started to zoom into Sarah Tucker¡¯s right arm multiple times, showing all possible angles and pictures. ¡°This was taken in beginning of the month from an employee trip. No matter how you look at it, Mr. Tucker, it¡¯s clear your wife never had a tattoo to begin with let alone have a need to remove one.¡±
¡°The surgery mark.¡± Leo changed his tablet¡¯s photo to a scanned document. ¡°This is a list of every women who had surgery for deep vein thrombosis in the past few years. When you came in to ¡®confirm¡¯ Sarah¡¯s identity, we didn¡¯t think of conducting an extensive search through hospital records ¨C especially with very little identifying feature. We instead focus on catching the killer. In reality, Sarah Tucker¡¯s name is clearly not on the list.¡±
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Frank Tucker sealed his lips. The muscles in his jaws rippled. He rubbed his palms against the bedding and he started to do a slight rocking on the bed. Whenever he made eye contact with Leo and McLamb he ended up staring at the walls.
¡°I-I don¡¯t understand, detectives. Y-your constable, Jenma, Janice? She told me, th-the one you found was my wife. DNA confirmed it, right? You can¡¯t lie to DNA.¡±
Leo dragged his chair closer to the bed, slamming the feet into the ground with a CRACK. ¡°Forensic confirmed, both thumbs shared the same DNA blood type. O negative. Given the fact it wasn¡¯t a common blood type, we started to assume the thumb belonged to the body and went with what we got. Now, we had forensic do a deep check. They realized, the thumb¡¯s DNA does not match the DNA of the corpse we found.¡±
Sweat formed on Frank Tucker¡¯s forehead. All the color in his face slowly dripped away. Even so he tried to maintain his sitting posture. No longer begging, no longer crying. All he did was inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. Small shudders. ¡°The, uh, hnn.¡±
¡°Everything had been an illusion.¡± McLamb rummaged into his pocket, pulling out an evidence bag with strands of hair. ¡°By the time Constable Jenny and Jackson went to your apartment, you already replaced any items containing your wife¡¯s DNA with the hair strands of the corpse. When we started to match one thing after another, we would have assumed the thumb we found was also the same. Not to mention, with the added pressure of the media wanting us to stop a serial killer ¨C we would have continued to overlook minor details in favor for a speedy resolution. All according to plan.¡±
¡°O-officer. L-listen. I-it¡¯s a mi-mistake. I swear.¡±
¡°Mr. Tucker. Answer us.¡± Leo gritted his teeth. ¡°Who is the woman in the morgue right now?¡±
¡°I, I don¡¯t know, who¡ªWhat you¡¯re talk--¡± Frank Tucker reached up to grab his inhaler. A deep breath, a few pants, and he still couldn¡¯t catch his air. This time, the detectives didn¡¯t bother to pity him. ¡°I honestly, have no idea wh-who is the woman wh-who I thought to be my, my--¡±
Leo gripped Frank Tucker by the collar. ¡°The only people who would know about the corpse¡¯s birthmark in such an intimate place would be her parents, boyfriend, lover, doctor, or the murderer who stripped her and chopped her into seven pieces. You have no kids; you¡¯re already busy fooling around with an insurance broker; definitely no physician; so that leaves us only one option!¡±
¡°NO! WAIT! DETECTIVES! Y-YOU¡¯RE MISTAKEN! I DIDN¡¯T KILL ANYONE! NO ONE! I SWEAR! HONEST TO GOD! I DIDN¡¯T DO IT!¡±
¡°THEN WHO!?¡± The sergeant rattled the suspect while McLamb gripped onto Leo¡¯s arm to try and calm him down. ¡°Someone has died and was turned into a jigsaw puzzle! Not only did you misuse her death to get your wife¡¯s insurance money ¨C YOU TOSSED HER NAKED BODY AROUND LIKE GARBAGE! SHE WAS A HUMAN BEING WHO HAD A FAMILY AND A LIFE! DID YOU EVER THINK ABOUT THAT!?¡±
¡°Leo! Wait, you¡¯ll trigger his asthma again!¡± McLamb struggled to break them up. After a few push and shove, he was able to pry Frank Tucker to fumble on his bed and Leo seething in a corner. He let the silence sink in before he walked up to the bed. McLamb picked up his phone and sorted through his files. After tapping on one image, he played a video and showed it to Frank Tucker.
The raw footage of the viral video, featuring Felicia Harvey.
[Hello Felicia speaking¡ªOh hey Frankieeee. Heeeey. It¡¯s been lonely without you for the last few nights. Surely the cops aren¡¯t bothering you anymore. I¡¯m in the mood, so can we like... What? Say that one more time. WHAT!? Y-you¡¯re breaking up with me? Wh...You still love your wife? She¡¯s dead ¨C SHE¡¯S DEAD! What? Are you gonna marry yourself to her ghost!? Th-this is our chance to be together, we don¡¯t have to hide anything anymore. We can get married and.....Hello?...Hello?.....DAMN YOU FRANK TUCKER¡ªAAAAAAH!]
The video ends with a scream as Felicia smashes her phone against the street light, shrapnel cutting up into her cheek.
Frank Tucker no longer had color in his face. He was a shallow and pale looking man who wished he stayed in a coma. Lips quivered, eyes squinted, tears welled up. He tried to make a sound, but only a small whining noise came out.
McLamb took in a deep breath, focusing, and asked, ¡°Sarah Tucker is still alive. So. Where is she?¡±
The whimpering mess pulled up his knees to his chest. He started to hug it, rocking back and forth. The husband tried to find something to look at, to bring him out of this reality. Unable to find an escape, he ended up lying on his side with his back to the detectives and pulled covers up to hide his neck. ¡°I-I can¡¯t tell you.¡±
Leo marched over, but McLamb placed a hand on his chest to stop him. Instead, the constable came over with a soft step and quiet voice. ¡°Mr. Tucker. No matter how much you wish to deny it, this isn¡¯t a nightmare you can wake up from. Closing yourself off will not help you, neither will your silence do justice for the true victim in the morgue. I know you have a conscious. I know you still love Sarah Tucker. So please, tell us, where is your wife right now?¡±
Frank Tucker clung onto the covers on his bed. He started to cry, lips shaking as he tried not to make much of a sound. His head bowed in shame. ¡°Sarah...Sarah is at--¡±
BEEP.
The door burst open, startling Leo and McLamb. They turned to see Constable Jackson panting at the doorway, his fedora gripped in one white-knuckled fist. ¡°W-we found S-Sarah.¡±
¡°...Well?¡± Leo shrugged the confusion off his shoulder. ¡°Where is she? You brought her back, right?¡±
Jackson inhaled, and held it in for a moment. ¡°...About that.¡±
== TO BE CONTINUED ==>
Cherry Grove Cottage, Number 13
Cherry Grove was a small neighborhood located outside of the Big Metro City. Away from all the neon advertisement, the angry cars roaring down the streets, or even any ambience from the 24/7 city life. Each unit were lined up, sitting side by side. They had enough space in between to be creative with their yard, guarded by tall hedges that acted as natural fences. They all looked similar in shape: two story building with a tattered front porch, rugged chimney, paint well worn by time, and rooftops cluttered with mounds of moss. Despite the aesthetic, peace and comfort was the core of the neighborhood¡¯s atmosphere.
Unfortunately, there was already a cluster of police cruisers forming a blockade around one cottage, filling up the road and driveway. Police cordons were made around the perimeter to keep curious neighbours out and nosy reporters away. Only investigation personnel, forensic, and coroner vans were allowed entry.
Sergeant Leo carefully drove his car through the horde of news casts and officers, going under the tape line. After parking his vehicle to the side, he, Constable McLamb, and Constable Jackson jumped out.
¡°Number 13,¡± Jackson pointed at a certain cottage surrounded by police officers. ¡°Inside. The Inspector and Jenny are looking at her right now.¡±
¡°Alright.¡± Leo rubbed his mouth, feeling his heart race just by looking at the cozy cottage guarded by police officers. ¡°Jackson, go ask around. I don¡¯t care how early it is, wake them up. Someone must have seen something. McLamb, with me.¡±
¡°You got it boss.¡± Jackson gave an OK with his hand before walking off to knock on doors.
Leo and McLamb moved to cottage number 14. The yard was gutted, fresh earth turned up. They could see the sprinkler systems exposed to the open air like bones of a skeleton. Just stepping across the stone walkway to the front porch made them feel they were running across a stone bridge over an empty moat.
Compared to the other cottages, the one they approached had a fresh coat of paint. It looked like a piece of the young sky came down to sit amongst the oldies. The rooftop was clean of any moss, replaced with brand new tiles. Even the plastic wrappers with spare material could be seen balanced on the rooftop.
The front door was wide open. Sergeant Leo was about to dive in, but looked inside. Immediately, he put a hand on his partner¡¯s chest to stop him. ¡°McLamb, you should go and help Jackson with--¡±
¡°Sir. I can handle it.¡±
¡°...You sure?¡±
McLamb returned a firm nod and patted the sergeant¡¯s hand. ¡°I am a detective. I can do this.¡±
Leo gave the constable a long stare... Then he slapped him on the shoulder, offering a strong thumbs up. The sergeant dipped into the cottage first. McLamb took two seconds to let his gut shudder, and took one last breath of fresh air before following into the crime scene.
The interior of the cottage was small and homey. There was a living room with a classic fireplace, closed up and waiting for the winter to wake up again. Several furniture had sooty cloths covering them up, stained with saw dust and paint. The other side was a small dining nook with a table big enough for two people to have meals on. In the back was a short flight of stairs that led to the upstairs, the steps covered in newspapers with paint drips covering some articles. There were two smells: the aroma of paint and plaster; and red iron.
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Right in the middle of the hallway was a corpse lying in a pool of blood. Face down, hands sprawled out, feet pointing to those who entered the house. Trails of bloodied fingers clawed across tiles, splatter seeping into the corners of the floor. The corpse¡¯s wool sweater was torn up across the back, only held together by several thin threads that survived the violent carnage.
Constable Jenny appeared, passing several gloves and foot covers for Leo and McLamb. After putting them on they approached Inspector May who was crouched with the coroner and coroner. McLamb stood behind Leo. Although he braved himself to eye the corpse, he would glance to the side to give his mental stamina and stomach a breather. Still, he wasn¡¯t going to go back on his word, not entirely.
¡°The victim is roughly 30 ¨C 34 years old.¡± The coroner spoke to the inspector as he checked a forensic thermometer. ¡°Female, Caucasian. By my calculations she died roughly in the early hours of 2:00 AM to 3:00 AM. She has a deep gash across her forehead.¡±
Leo looked around for a moment. He looked at the broken vase at the floor away from the body, but shook his head. He checked the corner of the dinner table, clean. Most of the chaos seemed to be isolated in the hallway and there wasn¡¯t much signs of blood across the wall or other bludgeoning objects.
McLamb waved a hand over to the sergeant and pointed to the front of the door. They both could see a large and dark foot print smeared on the front. There was a slight dent, wood breaking. Even the door hinge tore into the side of the door frame, exposing fresh timber.
One last examination, and Leo could see some blood on the corner of the door, facing inside the house, with some strand of hair snagged in the splinter. ¡°The killer used the door to knock her down.¡±
The coroner took a moment to glance over at the door, squinting through his glasses. After looking between the corpse and door he nodded. ¡°Most likely. The blow to the head was more of a stun, causing her to be disorientated. She has vomit in her mouth along with blood suggesting a major concussion. The true cause of death is here.¡± The coroner then gestured a gloved hand to the body.
Multiple stab runs run up and down the body¡¯s back, from shoulder to hips. The muscles, flesh, and organs were so torn up, the blood kept flowing without any signs of drying or congealing.
¡°Victim was stabbed at least 18 times. There may be some overlap, so I will provide you a precise number when I conduct a full autopsy back at the morgue.¡±
¡°Eighteen...¡± McLamb gripped his stomach at reciting the number and seeing the blood. In the end he forcefully swallowed the nausea back down his throat. Even Leo shook his head. After a pause, he glanced at his inspector. ¡°Is it her?¡±
Inspector May gave a sigh and helped the coroner to turn the body over on its side. Doing so revealed the corpse¡¯s face bathed in blood, eyes closed and head bobbing around as if passed out asleep. Constable Jenny came over, showing Leo and McLamb a photo on her tablet from their police files. To make extra sure they got the right person, Jenny also pointed to the corpse¡¯s hand ¨C heavily bandaged around the palm, a thumb missing.
¡°Geez.¡± Leo gripped at his chin to compose himself. ¡°It really is Sarah Tucker.¡±
¡°Wh...what happened here?¡± McLamb rubbed the sweat off the back of his neck.
Inspector May rose to her feet with a mumble. ¡°I believe the real question is: who killed Sarah Tucker, again?¡±
== TO BE CONTINUED ==>
Truth at Metro General Hospital
Constable Jackson and Constable Jenny returned to Metro General Hospital.
There were too many questions that needed to be asked. To many what ifs and what nots that could not be solved instantly. However, they believe there was only one person who can answer everything in a single sitting. They were on the way through the prison ward section of the hospital to find him.
¡°Circles,¡± Jackson muttered as he tugged on his fedora. ¡°Frank Tucker has been pulling our chains around in circles. I¡¯ve had enough.¡±
Jenny rushed ahead of her partner, trying to slow his marching. ¡°Don¡¯t do anything rash. Even right now, we can¡¯t jump to conclusions.¡±
¡°Look, Jenny jeans. Listen.¡± Jackson patted his partner on the shoulder, but she shrugged it off ¡°This guy has taken us for a loop, making us believe he was a victim of a dead wife slayed by a sadistic serial killer. From day zero to now, he fooled us with crocodile tears.¡± He clenched his jaw, muscles rippling in his cheek. ¡°What pushes my buttons the most ¨C anyone¡¯s buttons really ¨C is the fact his wife was alive while he waved around another woman¡¯s dead body to pity them. I am in no mood to pull my punches.¡±
¡°There are still too many questions we need to clear up!¡± Jenny retorted, pushing Jackson back to make her point. ¡°If you rush in without a plan, he could turn the table and make him look more the victim!¡±
¡°Oh I have a plan of attack alright.¡± Jackson tugged on his fedora, down over his forehead with a leer. ¡°Attack.¡±
¡°NO!¡±
Jenny ended up being dragged by Jackson as he marched onward, grabbing a security card from the hospital ward officer. They eventually stopped in front of Room Nr-B2. Without hesitation, Jackson swiped his card through the reader and pushed the door open.
Beep
¡°Frank Tucker! You better have a good lawyer cuz¡ªSWEET JESUS!¡±
¡°Jackson what¡¯s wron¡ªMR. TUCKER!¡±
Frank Tucker dangled from the ceiling. His noose was his bed sheets and blankets tied together, hooked around an overhead railing used for machines to lift heavy weight patients. The constables stared as he swung to and from, face turning blue. A look of resign.
¡°Jenny here!¡± Jackson whipped out his Swiss Army tool and tossed it over to Jenny. It bounced in her cold hands until her fingers squeezed around the handle, ejecting the blade out.
Together, Jackson lunged over to grip and lift Frank Tucker by the legs while Jenny jumped onto the bed to start cutting the bed sheet noose. The husband gasped back to life, and started to violently thrash about. He threw a kick into Jackson¡¯s gut and slapped Jenny with the back of his hand. After what felt like an eternity of desperate kicking and screaming, Jenny was able to cut the bed sheets!
Jackson flipped over to pin Frank Tucker onto the ground, using his weight as a restraint. ¡°YO WHAT¡¯S THE DEAL MAN!?¡±
¡°The warden told me...Sarah is...I...¡± Frank Tucker, trapped and helpless, could do nothing but cry. Thick tears drip down his face as he wailed. ¡°Let me die. I failed to protect Sarah. She¡¯s dead because of me. Please, just let me join heeer.¡±
¡°...Two women are dead.¡± Jenny climbed down the bed and knelt next to Jackson as he pinned Frank Tucker on the floor. She shook her head, rubbing one hand on her knee. ¡°How many more will die because of how selfish you have been? This isn¡¯t about affairs or insurance fraud. This is murder, TWO murders. Do you really believe you can easily walk away from all this?¡±
Jackson and Frank Tucker fell silent. They stared at Jenny, who was waving around the Swiss Army knife. She didn¡¯t realize it, until she noticed their stares. The constable clapped the blade back inside, cleared her throat and looked at Frank Tucker right in the eyes.
¡°Please, tell us. Did you kill Sarah Tucker, for real?¡±
¡°NO! Never! It...it was all just an accident.¡±
¡°It...it all started several weeks ago.¡± Frank Tucker was curled up in the corner of his room on the floor. He hugged his knees, tears streaming his face as he choked on his words. ¡°I went to pick up my wife, like any other night. We argued...like any other night.¡±
Jackson and Jenny sat on the floor with him, surrounding him. At the same time they moved away anything that could be used as a weapon or means for suicide. They even added extra guards at the doorway with a medical team on standby. Jackson pulled off his fedora, plopping it in his crossed legs. ¡°What exactly did you two argue about?¡±
Frank Tucker rubbed the tears and snot from his face with a palm, ¡°We agreed to break off our affairs. Her with her doctor and me with Felicia. But because my business hasn¡¯t been doing well, I didn¡¯t have time to be serious with Felicia and call it off.¡± The husband made a chortled snort, eyes reddening as his throat clenched to choke aside his crying. ¡°My wife thought I was still seeing my mistress. I kept telling her no, I just didn¡¯t have the opportunity or mental energy. Our tempers flared up, she started hitting me. I...I wasn¡¯t paying attention to the road, she pushed my arm then...¡± The husband hid his face behind his palms. ¡°I killed her. That other woman.¡±
Jenny flinched. ¡°The original corpse?¡±
¡°I didn¡¯t know her, I swear! Purely accidental! I wasn¡¯t paying attention to the road, it was dark, she came out of no where then...¡± Frank Tucker slapped a fist into his palm, tearing up more. ¡°Sarah w-was a nurse, right? So-so immediately she went to help the woman, wh-while I was trying to look for my phone!¡±
¡°Why didn¡¯t you call the police at the time?¡± Jackson asked.
¡°Th-that¡¯s the thing, officers! Wh-when my wife said we couldn¡¯t save the girl, she was already dead, I TRIED to call the police ¨C S-Sarah wouldn¡¯t let me!¡±
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Jenny¡¯s eyebrow furrowed. ¡°...Sarah Tucker told you not to call the police?¡±
¡°Yes!¡± Frank Tucker nodded, eyes wide. ¡°I-I w-was shocked myself. Sarah told me don¡¯t call anyone. She was worried this would cause problems for me, she didn¡¯t want the police to think I-I murdered her in cold blood or a rapist, whatever. I-I was lost myself th-then...she told me to help her toss the body off the side of the road.¡±
The constables stared.
¡°I-I¡¯m serious! Believe me! S-Sarah said there was nothing we could do, so we tossed the woman¡¯s body in a ditch. Sh-she even took the woman¡¯s bag, but I couldn¡¯t ask my questions at the time as we quickly drove away.¡± Frank Tucker dropped his hands across his knees, exhausted. ¡°I found a place to hide the car, to-to clean off all the blood. I tried to convince her, to let me call the police or we¡¯re both in trouble. D-do you know what she told me?¡±
¡°What?¡± Jenny asked. She then remembered to make notes and she whipped out her tablet, typing everything down. ¡°What happened?¡±
Frank Tucker took in a deep breath, staring at Jenny as if she a ghost. ¡°Sarah started mumbling to herself. Said the girl had the same blood type as herself, O negative. Sarah saw the woman¡¯s medical ID from the bag she brought. Even mentioned the woman had the same build, height, and hair. Then she told me something I¡¯ll never forget...¡± The husband rubbed his hands through his hair, staring at the floor of his hospital cell.
¡°Sarah said: ¡®If I died, wouldn''t it solve all of our problems?¡¯¡±
¡°My wife recalled the life insurance I prepared for her.¡± Frank Tucker shook his head, eyes red and puffy. ¡°One thing led to another, and she suggested we use the woman¡¯s body to pretend it was her. I said, it would never work, DNA and all that! B-but then she mentioned she saw something similar on a Netflix show and thought she could do that.¡±
Jenny typed furiously onto her tablet, getting every detail. Jackson covered his mouth, resisting the urge to throw his fists. So he ended up drumming his fingers across the top of his fedora sitting on his knee.
Frank Tucker inhaled a shuddering breath. ¡°We drove back to where we left the body, made sure no one was looking, and brought it back with us. We took it to another wood working factory I knew of that was up for sale, completely empty of anyone so no one would ever know.¡±
Jenny raised her head. ¡°What did you do after you severed the body?¡±
¡°...Officer I...I didn¡¯t...I wasn¡¯t the one who dismembered the woman.¡±
¡°Yo wut?¡± Jackson clenched gripped at his fedora, the veins in his throat bulging. ¡°Are you saying your wife was...¡±
After a hesitant pause, the husband bobbed his head up and down. ¡°Sarah was that doctor¡¯s assistant, he does bone surgery. She knew everything there was to dismember a body. And she did it so quickly, so quietly. E-even I had goosebumps, watching Sarah remove one limb at a time with just a hack saw. Eyes, full of determination, focus, I... A-all I could do was either throw up, or wipe the sweat and blood from her eyes.¡± Frank Tucker couldn¡¯t help a slight pause, clenching his eyes to block out a vivid memory. ¡°Sarah did it. All seven pieces. W-we remembered about finger prints, so she also removed the fingers. We agreed to dispose of the chest, legs, and arms some place where people are likely to stumble upon it b-but make it look like a regular murder, not linking it back to us. S-since the Splitter was on the loose I thought...you know...¡±
Jenny leaned in while typing, ¡°Where did you dispose the pieces we don¡¯t have? The head and pelvis? The rest of the fingers?¡±
Frank Tucker¡¯s cheeks bulge with a sickening sound. ¡°Sorry I...Sarah told me to grind them up into a chipper. After I did a couple of fingers, I couldn¡¯t stand seeing the mess. So I put the rest in a bag with some rocks and tossed it into Lake Tampa, the other end of town. Just, it made my stomach churn seeing all that gore. Afterwards, I brought my wife to my buddy¡¯s place, a cottage at Cherry Grove. He¡¯s out of town and he asked me to renovate it while he was away. I-I couldn¡¯t think of anywhere else, so I took Sarah there to rest and recover from...¡±
Jenny dared to ask. ¡°The thumb. Did she really...¡±
Frank Tucker covered his mouth with a nod. ¡°By her own hand, all of it, for my sake. My sake. She¡¯s dead. Gone. Th-there is nothing I can do now, to make things up for all suffering I gave her. I shouldn¡¯t have let her go, then she wouldn¡¯t have to force herself on that doctor, to get my attention! I was wrong, wrong to have a relationship with Felicia. It¡¯s my fault! All my fault!¡± Then he started to strike at himself, punching his own face in fury and guilt.
Jackson rose to his feet. He jabbed his fedora back on his head, slanted over his forehead with a leer. ¡°Frank Tucker. You¡¯re under arrest for the murder of the unnamed victim and the murder of Sarah Tucker, legit. Anything you say can be and will be used against you in court. You have the right to remain--¡±
¡°W-wait. Wait officer! I told you, I didn¡¯t kill Sarah! I swear by God! I-I just found out she died from, from the warden! I-I wanted to kill myself, I-I wouldn¡¯t have done it to her! Not after what she did for me! She chopped off her own thumb to protect me!¡±
¡°Your wife knew your secret!¡± Jackson jabbed a finger into Frank Tucker¡¯s chest, letting out his seething in a hard point. ¡°She faked her death to get the insurance money for you. Now that everyone, even the police, believed she was dead and gone, you made sure she wouldn¡¯t pull a magic trick and come back from the grave to spill her guts about you!¡±
¡°NO! NEVER! I seriously promised a new life for her, for us to start over! We-we just needed to wait until the payout was approved! H-how could I kill her when we¡¯re so close to what we wanted!?¡±
¡°Then tell us,¡± Jenny rose up and stepped in between the constable and suspect. ¡°Where were you last night? Can anyone account for you?¡±
¡°N-no of course no one can account for me! We had to make everyone believe Sarah was dead, I couldn¡¯t risk someone tailing me! I-I secretly went to visit her to bring her food. Then I made sure she took her medications before she went to sleep! J-just when I got back home, y-you raided my apartment!¡±
Immediately, Jenny pulled up her tablet. With a few press of her finger tips, she produced an image. It showed a car racing down a street in the middle of the city, caught by a police camera. ¡°Is this your car, Mr. Tucker?¡±
The suspect froze, staring at the vehicle in the photo. ¡°Wh...what? Y-yes that¡¯s my car but I don¡¯t remember--¡±
¡°The coroner confirmed, Sarah Tucker died between 2:00 AM to 3:00 AM, we arrested you around 3:45 AM this morning. This dash cam was taken between her time of death and your arrest and it was coming from the direction of Cherry Grove. Not to mention, we estimate it only takes 30 minutes between the scene of the crime and your apartment.¡±
¡°No! Wait! Officer! You got it all wrong! Th-that car is mine, b-but I wasn¡¯t there when the picture was taken! I was somewhere else, I am telling the truth! You got to believe me!¡±
Jenny closed the image on her tablet and pulled out a pair of handcuffs. ¡°You are allowed to contact your lawyer. If you do not have one, the court will appoint one to you. Do you understand your rights?¡±
¡°I DIDN¡¯T KILL SARAH! I CONFESS, I RAN THE OTHER WOMAN OVER! I DON¡¯T EVEN KNOW HER NAME! BUT I WOULD NEVER HURT SARAH! EVER! I EVEN ORDERED A BRAND NEW WEDDING BAND FOR HER, CUSTOM MADE! I WANTED TO RENEW OUR VOW! WHY WOULD I DO THAT ONLY TO KILL HER! PLEASE, CONSTABLES! BELIEVE ME! BELIEVE MEEEEEEEEEEEEE!¡±
== TO BE CONTINUED ==>
Re-Enacting the Crime at Cottage Number 13
Cottage Number 13 at Cherry Grove was quiet. The entire living room was empty, cleared out of any officers or forensics unit. Only foot prints left by the investigators, drops of cheap paint, and the stains of blood remained where they were, leeching into the wall and in the gaps of the uneven tiles.
It had been some time since the incident early in the morning. The pool of blood where Sarah Tucker was found started to crust and flies began to gather like vultures. Police cordon still web around the house, over the main doors, entrances, and the entire yard. The neighbours have moved on, no one stayed behind to mourn a stranger they¡¯ve never seen until today. They went back to their normal lives, avoiding that one house locked down.
The area should be void of people. Should be.
Ding Dong. Ding Dong
The front door bell of Cottage Number 13 rang. It started as a gentle press. The living room responded in silence. Not even the crusting pool of blood leapt up to scratch at the door like a curious dog.
Ding Dong. Ding Dong.
Knock Knock Knock.
More ringing, followed by a sturdy pounding on the door. Once more, the living room remained where it was. Nothing coming for the door.
DingDongDingDongDingDongDingDongDingDongDingDongDingDong
BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG
¡°JACKSON!!¡±
¡°YO, YO! ON THE WAY!¡±
Constable Jackson fumbled down the stairs, rushing straight from the second floor. He gripped onto a pink bed robe that was three times too small for him and had his foot shoved in a pair of pink furry slippers, just as tiny. By the time he reached the last step, the slipper lost their grip across the newspaper covering the stairs from falling paint. Although Jackson was able to grip onto the railing, the one slipper made a RIP noise as the top part burst from the sudden movement and the size of his foot. He cursed, but the ringing and banging at the door didn¡¯t give him a break.
Kicking the one dead slipper aside he shuffled to the front door. He made very sure to walk AROUND the puddle of blood lying in the hallway. As he approached the front, he started to unlock the door.
¡°Jackson, what were you doing?¡± A voice on the other side barked. ¡°We¡¯re tight on time!¡±
¡°Bro! I¡¯m playing the role of a sick and anemic wife! Rushing me isn¡¯t realistic, darling!¡± Jackson hands fumbled. He turned the main lock, pushed aside the bolt lock, flip back the bar door hook guard, even jingled off the chain lock. Once he got the last one off he opened the door, smiling in a falsetto voice. ¡°Ahem. Hiiii Honey! You¡¯re back oddly early¡ªOH SH¡ª¡±
The constable screeched and tried to slam the door. A foot on the other side gave the front a good drop kick, driving the door into the Constable¡¯s collar bone. He staggered and stumbled, but veered his fall far away from the pool of blood with a big and hard thud, ¡°OW! YO! McLAMB! We¡¯re Re-ENACTing the crime scene ¨C NOT KILL ME!¡±
¡°Oh s-sorry!¡± Constable McLamb poked his head through the door, pulling back his foot. Just as he was about to step into the house to help Jackson, Sergeant Leo grabbed McLamb by the spine of his jacket to yank him back. All Leo did was give McLamb a small look, and the latter went ¡°A-ah right. Simulation. Uuuuh...Please bear with it a little longer Jackson.¡±
The constable on the floor rolled his eyes with a groan. Reluctant, he turned onto his stomach and started to crawl. As pitifully as possible. ¡°Heeeelp meeee. Heeeelp meeeeee.¡±
McLamb took in a deep breath ¨C and put on his best killer face. He marched right in and brought out ¡®the weapon¡¯.
¡°Heeeelp meeee. Help¡ªGAAAAAAAAH!¡± Jackson screamed for real when his ankles were grabbed and dragged backwards like a scene from a horror movie. He even clawed at the tiles out of pure instinct, leaving nail marks. Before he could react, McLamb the ¡®killer¡¯ pinned him down and started to stab him in the back to make the ¡®victim¡¯ scream! ¡°AAAH! AAAAH! OW! IT HURTS! GAAAH! MY BACK! UEEEEE! YOU GOT ME HUBBYYYYYY..... guweeeeeh.¡±
It didn¡¯t take 10 strikes, and ¡®wife¡¯ Jackson flopped on the tiles. Motionless, eyes rolled back in their sockets, tongue hanging out.
¡°...Oh god, my arm.¡± McLamb gripped on his ¡®slasher arm¡¯ as it started to cramp. He tried to wear out the stings by rotating his shoulder, but the muscles keep locking up. ¡°Leo, are we done?¡±
¡°No.¡± Leo shook his head and walked in himself. He held onto a police tablet with some scanned documents opened on the screen. ¡°Continue.¡±
¡°...All...35 times?¡±
¡°Exactly what the coroner said. And he doubled checked. Go on.¡±
¡°...¡± McLamb gulped, feeling the tendons in his arm twitching. He gave Jackson a quiet stare, his fellow constable looking back up from his ¡®dead position¡¯. A small tear drop and constable Jackson resigned himself to fate. McLamb could only close his eyes, and slash ¨C with his basking whisk. ¡°18! 19! 20! 21! 22! 23! Ooh god, cramp! Cramp. 24! 25! Ooooof! 26! 26! Wait. 28! 29! Aaaaah. Hiiiiiissss. Craaaamp. 30!...Done!--Oh right, up to 35.¡±
Leo covered his mouth with a hand for multiple reasons. One, to ignore how McLamb and Jackson were suffering. Two, to clearly re-imagine the scene of the crime as if real time, using the two Constable¡¯s positions to mimic the victim and the killer. Three, he didn¡¯t want to say anything when McLamb started to count in the 40s.
¡°46!...47!...Forty¡ªOh wait.¡± McLamb stopped himself. All he could do was grip his sore slasher arm, his numb and white-knuckled fingers dropping the whisk across the floor. The wires were completely destroyed, some of them snapped off and impaled into a wall from the recoil.
Jackson...didn¡¯t have to pretend he was dead. ¡°...Medic.¡±
Leo started to type some notes. McLamb stood back up and helped Jackson to his feet. The first tug was like yanking up a sack of potatoes, but the constable was able to bring himself back to his feet with a pained wheeze.
¡°So...¡± Jackson gripped his chest, trying not to vomit. ¡°What did we learn today?¡±
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¡°Jenny, what do you think?¡± Leo turned to the door behind him.
Constable Jenny walked in, clutching onto an evidence bag. Inside it was a full length kitchen knife, blood painted over the blade and smearing against the bag. She passed it onto Leo, who held it up for everyone to see as she explained. ¡°The officers on site found this, buried within the wall of hedges around the house. Forensics checked the blood ¨C for sure ¨C it belongs to Sarah Tucker. No one else. They also confirmed, it has Frank Tucker¡¯s finger prints on the handle. However--¡±
¡°The blade is still intact.¡± Leo inspected the weapon dangling in his hand. The knife was pristine, very little scratches. The sharp edges was still in one piece, even the tip was still pointed sharp. ¡°35 stab wounds, through bone, muscle, and tissue. The blade would surely have dented up, maybe even snapped in half given how violent the stabs were. Dr. Kampfer mentioned all of the ribs and spinal bones in Sarah Tucker were destroyed. I mean look at the whisk we brought, it¡¯s completely demolished.¡±
¡°Not to mention I could barely continue after 18 strikes.¡± McLamb clutched onto his arm, tapping the muscles in his shoulder with his other fist. ¡°How much can one man really hate his wife?¡±
¡°I want to agree with you on this, McLamb, but...¡± Leo handed the evidence bag back to Jenny. ¡°Yes, Frank Tucker has been involved in all of this. Staging the death of his wife, dismembering a corpse, and the manslaughter of the unidentified Jane Doe that lead to all this. He is not at all innocent ¨C however this murder just doesn¡¯t add up.¡±
Jenny exchanged looks with everyone. ¡°What do you think is missing, Leo?¡±
The sergeant tapped a fist to his chin, thinking. ¡°Frank Tucker swore up and down, he wasn¡¯t driving through the dash cam in his car. He instead stole a co-worker¡¯s jeep knowing the owner never locks their doors and is asleep late at the hour. Obviously the owner can¡¯t attest to it, he never even knew his vehicle was taken. Whenever he saw his jeep still in the drive way the next morning, he wouldn¡¯t have thought someone used it. Furthermore, Frank always refills the gas as to how much he used up driving around, so gives the illusion it never left the drive way over night.¡±
McLamb rubbed he back of his neck. ¡°We don¡¯t have any evidence to back up Frank¡¯s claim. He could have just said it to throw us off. And even if it was true, we still lack evidence he DID take another vehicle and not his own car. At most, forensic is checking the co-workers car to see if Frank is telling the truth but it¡¯s gonna take a while.¡±
¡°There might be a chance.¡± Leo walked over and tapped a knuckle across the door edge. ¡°What¡¯s wrong with this simulation?¡±
¡°Realism.¡± Jackson shot a glance at McLamb, the latter cleared his throat awkwardly, and he stretched his back. He pointed at the door, circling a hand. ¡°Husband knocks on door, wife answers. On the account she wasn¡¯t feeling well, had medication, and just woke up right after her husband left, she would have taken some time to stumble down the stairs and¡ªHold up.¡± Jackson walked over, one hand on his back, and he pushed the door back and forth, eyeing the dark smear of a foot print. ¡°...Doesn¡¯t Frank Tucker have the key?¡±
Leo snapped his fingers, ¡°Exactly. Frank Tucker virtually visits his wife in hiding every day. Like he mentioned, he was helping his friend to renovate the place.¡±
Jenny followed along with a nod. ¡°Meaning he should have a key to the house. Since his wife can¡¯t travel about freely she wouldn¡¯t need one, or else she would risk revealing her identity. And I already checked earlier this morning, she has no copy of the house keys on her person and neither was there a spare key in the house. Only Frank Tucker had a copy on him.¡±
McLamb rubbed the back of his neck. ¡°Then why kick the door down?¡±
¡°McLamb, Jackson, come here.¡± Leo dragged the two constables to the door. This time he had Jackson on the outside and McLamb on the inside. Getting the hint, McLamb pretend to be the wife and open the door with a peek, with Jackson grinning and KICK THE DOOR...or gave it a light boot to make it tap against his team mate¡¯s cheek.
Leo pointed to each of them. ¡°Let¡¯s say Frank Tucker did forgot his keys. If he kicked the door down, we would have seen the entire frame blown open but no, it¡¯s still intact. Meaning the door was opened, by Sarah the only person who lived here, then kicked in.¡± The sergeant patted the door. ¡°Why was there a need to kick the door in Sarah¡¯s face?¡±
A thought struck Jenny¡¯s mind. It took her a moment to form words, her fingers ¡®typing¡¯ in the air as if writing a full phrase in her mind before she read it out loud. ¡°Leo, are you suggesting on the night Sarah died ¨C someone else was at the door?¡±
¡°That¡¯s what¡¯s bugging me.¡± Leo slapped the side of the door in agreement. ¡°Frank Tucker could have made any excuse about coming back so soon. He could easily kill her when she was most vulnerable! Forget wasting time kicking in the door on her face and stabbing her 35 times, just smother Sarah in her sleep with a pillow. Clean, very little effort. And no one would know about it ¨C because we all thought she was dead to begin with.¡± Leo folded his arms with a groan. ¡°As much as I want Frank Tucker to take the hit for all this mess, this sudden murder doesn¡¯t make sense. Remember how and who found the body?¡±
Jackson pulled at the brim of his fedora, trying to remember. ¡°Was a garbage collector. Came about doing his rounds. Saw the door ajar and he came over. Then found Sarah Tucker, called the cops.¡±
Leo clapped his hands together, making everyone jolt. ¡°If Frank Tucker truly wanted to follow through the original idea and make his wife disappear to get insurance money, wouldn¡¯t this defeat the purpose? Having someone find her corpse? In a cottage only he had access to? Why didn¡¯t he dispose of her body like he did with the first Jane Doe? Is Frank Tucker really that stupid to kill her for real, before getting the insurance payment, and leaving a mess in the hallway?¡±
¡°...Did he lack time?¡± McLamb rubbed a finger across his lips. ¡°We did arrest him at 3:45 AM.¡±
¡°Wait, wait wait.¡± Jackson shook his head at the rookie. ¡°I doubt this guy is an esper. As if he conveniently has precog abilities to foresee us storming his house. Even then, wouldn¡¯t you wanna, you know, get out of town? As if this guy would protect some sacred timeline and fulfill his destiny. There was no way he could¡¯ve known we would pay him a visit. Meaning he would have plenty of time to clean up here ¨C whilst we knocked on his apartment door on the other end of town. Even we never knew about this place until the emergency call came in.¡±
Everyone fell silent from this point.
¡°Still.¡± Jenny hefted the evidence bag. ¡°This weapon has Frank Tucker¡¯s finger prints and Sarah Tucker¡¯s blood. Even if wasn¡¯t used, once this is taken to court and the jury hears the whole story about the insurance fraud, they are more than likely to find Frank Tucker guilty of murdering his own wife.¡±
The sergeant handed his police tablet to McLamb and used his free hands to comb his hair in frustration. He paced around the living room, eyes closed, trying to think. The others let him wander in silence, all of them trying to come up with alternatives of their own.
Jackson mulled his lips before he forced himself to break the silence. ¡°Sarge. Inspector is gonna call it in five hours. Truth or not, we¡¯re gonna charge Frank Tucker for mishandling the Jane Doe, aiding abetting a crime, not to mention the insurance scam. Even if the husband really had no part in the cottage murder, he¡¯s still gonna sit in a cell for a very long time. Is the truth really worth it?¡±
Leo kept circling in the living room, head down in thought. He glanced at the cheap paint on the wall, drip marks rolling down and leaving uneven indentations. The cloth covering the furniture smeared with various hand prints, paint stains, and caked with years of saw dust.
Jenny couldn¡¯t resist asking. ¡°Sergeant. If our hypothesis is right, and there is a second killer that murdered Sarah Tucker...who could it be?¡±
Sergeant Leo perked his head up at a revelation. ¡°There¡¯s two other people in the world who could hate Sarah Tucker¡¯s guts this much. So, let¡¯s ask them. We got five hours right?¡±
Who Killed Sarah Tucker?
Precious Life Insurance. One of the top 10 companies in the Big Metro City that offered all sorts of financial protection to their clients, from automobile accidents, health and medical, long-term disability support, especially protecting the value of a human life. The type of company who show off their many award winning crystal trophies and certificates shielded by golden frames. Whether it be the front counter, the walls in the hallway, even on top of their filing cabinets, their merits could be seen everywhere and dated back to 10 or so years.
Sergeant Leo and Constable McLamb approached a single door out of 1092 offices. Once they saw the name on the plaque, they didn¡¯t hesitate with a knock ¨C they opened it right up.
¡°You must be the officers my secretary buzzed me about. Don¡¯t bother sitting down, I was about to leave.¡±
Felicia Harvey stood behind her desk, cleaning it up. She had one hand on the edge as if to balance her thin body. A series of bandage were wrapped tied around her head, over the forehead and the back; some faint pink residue seeping through the wrapping. One side of her cheek was covered in a palm-size medical patch with hospital tape stuck to her face. It made the officers think she had a tooth ache. The minor stitches across her one eye lid reminded them otherwise.
¡°As you can see officers, I am--¡± Felicia tossed some of her photos, personal awards, and a collection of fine ink pens into a cheap cardboard box. ¡°¡ªquite busy. All thanks, to that viral video.¡±
McLamb cleared his throat stepped up, ¡°Where were you last night between 2:00 AM to 3:00 PM?¡±
Felicia glanced up at the detectives, lips mulling. She took a moment to grab some binders from a shelf, unlocked the rings, and just dump out the tons of paper from them. They either rained out or tore through the three holes. When each binder were cleared of anything, she clapped them shut and tossed them into the cardboard with a rattle. She continued to dump more paper onto the floor, walking over them as if snow.
The constables watched as she took a moment to pluck a bottle from her bag, a sort of hand cream-based lotion with some sanitation alcohol formula. She squirted some paste into her palm and rubbed it over her fingers and massaged it across her wrists. ¡°What is this about?¡±
McLamb took a short breath to speak again. ¡°Please answer the question.¡±
¡°Officers. I am willing to cooperate, if I know the context of the question. You either tell me now, or you¡¯re going to have to wait for my lawyer to act as my medium.¡±
Leo resisted the urge to rub his face, so he placed his hands on his hips. ¡°Sarah Tucker was killed--¡±
Felicia laughed. ¡°Isn¡¯t that already over the news?¡±
¡°Just last night, between 2 to 3 AM.¡±
The insurance agent raised an eyebrow. She tilted her body on one foot, a short chuckle. ¡°So. You¡¯re saying, this whole time, she was never dead.¡±
McLamb was about to answer, but Leo put a hand on his shoulder. Getting the memo, the rookie followed in Leo¡¯s silence.
Felicia stared at them, before she turn to her office window. The world, she had a great view of the Big Metro City. High rise buildings made of steel with glass for skin, veins and arteries of bustling streets, the many attractions of national and amusement parks left and right, monuments of patriotism and history. The insurance agent bit a canine tooth into her lip, piercing through her rich lipstick. ¡°Sarah Tucker. Alive the whole time...that bi--¡±
She stomped at the office glass, leaving a crack with the heel of her stiletto. When she turned around, Leo and McLamb had their hands on their holsters. She rolled her eyes and waved them off. Ignoring them she pulled out a plastic bottle, removed the cap, and popped some pills. Without water, she made a hard gulp. Eyes clenched in pain, a small hiss, before she relaxed. ¡°2 to 3 AM, I was still in the hospital, ICU for hitting my head. I just got discharged this morning. Came to the office to report for work but...¡± One lazy hand to her cardboard box.
Leo looked around the office. Other than the standard insurance text, some company paintings, and office utilities, the room itself was stripped of any personal items. A letter sat on the desk next to the cardboard box, in a pile of hand torn shreds. ¡°Can anyone account for you?¡±
Felicia rolled her eyes, ¡°Detective. I had six random nurses watching over me, filling in for the morning, noon, and night shifts. None of them had the Florence Nightingale touch, so I didn¡¯t bothered to remember who they were. If you really, reeaaally, need a name, I guess.¡± The ex-insurance agent shrugged her shoulders. ¡°Could talk to Chandler. Not sure if it really was his name, but my room mate kinda looked like that guy from the T.V. show. I think his name sounded like Bing? Said he¡¯s still there for some other condition, so you could hit him up. Just pray, really hard, it¡¯s not COVID.¡±
Leo and McLamb stared. Felicia chuckled. She finished up cleaning off her desk, gripping onto the cardboard box. As she walked towards the door, Leo glanced between her and the desk she left behind.
¡°Miss Harvey. You forgot something.¡± Leo pointed at several items sitting on the desk. A collection of glass and porcelain figures of a gentlemen sweeping a lady about in a dance, her skirt flowing in the air. Pairs of glass toucans, beak to beak, forming a heart shape. Some Asian style fine china figurines of a jolly elderly couple with a basket full of babies surrounding them. And a large and expensive snow globe of a golden Japanese castle covered in white paint and loose powder.
¡°No I didn¡¯t¡± was all Felicia said without looking back.
McLamb tried to catch up to her, but the woman was already out the door with a slight wobble. ¡°Wh-which hospital were you admitted to?¡±
¡°St. Marlene Hospital. Good day.¡±
¡°Thank you kindly Mr. Chandler Barnes. Your help is much appreciated. Have a nice day.¡±
Constable Jackson tipped his fedora to a certain patient in the hospital bed. After making sure the patient¡¯s pillow was all fluffed up, covers all nice and fresh, and sneaking a couple sticks of Hi-Chew chewing gum into his hands, the constable gave the old man a crisp salute and marched out.
As he entered the hallway, he regrouped with Constable Jenny. She exited the nursing station, politely closing the counter door behind her and waving a thankful goodbye to some of the nursing staff. The two walked over to a vending machine to get some drinks, before sharing their findings.
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Jenny pulled up her police tablet, opening her notes. ¡°Felicia Harvey. Admitted through a 911 call where she received several lacerations across her face, eyes, forehead, and hit her head across the curb in a fall. The physician watching over her mentioned she had trouble walking in a straight line, lost her sense of balance, so she receives medication to reduce the symptoms. Was discharged about 7 AM when the doctors deem her able to take care of herself.¡±
¡°Guess she got more than stitches from that stunt in the viral video.¡± Jackson took a moment to guzzle half of his orange juice and let out a relaxed gasp. ¡°Chandler Barnes, 68 years old, a retired baker. Is in for a fractured hip and happened to sleep on the bed right next to Felicia, riiiiight....there.¡± Jackson pointed for his partner, gesturing a bed occupied by a man in his mid 30s with a long moustache next to the elderly patient Jackson spoke to. ¡°Chandler himself can¡¯t leave his bed, so he pretty much had 24/7 watch over her. He mentioned Felicia rarely got out of her own bed, a depressed slump, throwing tantrums. She even has to yell for nurses to come over to take her to the bathroom as she couldn¡¯t walk straight. On the night of Sarah Tucker¡¯s murder he spent the whole night talking to her since he couldn¡¯t sleep. She pretty much ignored him, but for sure she never left his eye sights.¡±
¡°Her alibi checks out then.¡± Jenny sighed as she made some quick hand notes to update them to the team Discord. ¡°That just leaves--¡±
Jackson nodded and finished up his drink with a guzzle. ¡°Time to give the good doctor a call. Come on.¡± He tossed the empty bottle into a recycling bin and head off. Jenny followed, quietly leaving her untouched orange juice next to a tired looking nurse balancing himself against the front counter.
They waded through the crowd of medical staff and side-stepped any patients that shuffled towards them. Once in a while they had to pin their backs to the wall as beds get pushed in between them. After a few more turns, they approached a certain door.
Only for it to suddenly open.
¡°Thank you Dr. Livesay for taking over for me.¡±
¡°It¡¯s sad to see you go, I really enjoy working with you Dr. Malcolm.¡±
Dr. Samuel Malcolm walked out of his office with heavy steps. As he looked around the hospital halls, he dragged something from behind to rest it by his side. The constables recognized it as a luggage bag sitting on four 360 wheels. Another bag sat on top, hooked around the extended handle. The two physicians exchanged firm handshakes, nods, and smiles. Then Dr. Malcolm passed a letter to the hands of his companion. ¡°Could you pass this over to the chief physician. I am afraid he¡¯ll try to convince me to stay.¡±
¡°I¡¯ll see to it he receives this and understand your desire.¡± The second doctor reached up to pat Dr. Malcolm on the shoulder. ¡°Where will you go?¡±
¡°Oh. I don¡¯t know. I think I¡¯ll take a short vacation. Or who knows, maybe try another hospital out of town. St. Marlene¡¯s been great to me but...¡± Dr. Malcolm was at loss of words and his friend nodded to say no more. After a few more words and goodbyes, the two doctors parted ways.
Dr. Malcolm puffed his cheeks with a deep sigh. He reached up to grab the top of his luggage handle, only to wince as he gripped his shoulder. With a few flex, he tried to shrug off the pain before walking away.
Only for Constable Jenny and Jackson to intercept him.
¡°Doctor.¡± Jackson nodded as he placed his hands on the luggage, using his weight to anchor it to the floor. ¡°Where you going? Some place exotic?¡±
Jenny stood in front of the doctor, straightening her jacket, and holding up her C.I.D. badge. ¡°Dr. Malcolm, where were you between 2 AM to 3 AM? Last time we interviewed you, you had been conducting a surgery. Is it the same now?¡±
Dr. Malcolm opened his mouth, only to look between both constables front and back. He blinked the confusion from his face and stuttered to answer. ¡°I-I was, sorry give me a minute. I was exercising?¡±
Jackson raised an eyebrow. ¡°2 in the morning?¡±
¡°I-it can¡¯t be helped. Most of my surgeries usually happen over night. When I don¡¯t have any appointments I just get restless so I go and train in a 24 hour gym place¡ªWh-what is this about by the way?¡±
Jenny took in a deep breath. ¡°Can anyone vouch for you?¡±
¡°Uuuh. I was training until I sprained my arm on the elliptical. Then I spent the rest of my hours in the sauna to cool down. S-since not many people use the sauna late a night I was alone for the rest of--¡±
¡°What¡¯s in the luggage?¡± Jackson tapped his knuckle onto luggage. ¡°Hmm?¡±
¡°...Oh thaaaat?¡± Dr. Malcolm tried to tug his luggage, but Jackson pulled it back. ¡°I-it¡¯s Skellie....Sorry. I mean, this is my skeleton model. I brought it to St. Marlene a-and I won¡¯t be working here any more so I thought I¡¯d bring it with me back home¡ªD-D-Detectives, could someone please tell me what is going on?¡±
Jenny exchanged glances with Jackson. After getting his nod, she braced herself. ¡°Sarah Tucker was murdered¡ª¡±
Dr. Malcolm nodded in confusion. ¡°Th-that¡¯s right. B-by the Splitter right? O-or her husband, I told you about her going back to him right?¡±
¡°¡ªIn between 2 AM to 3 AM, this early morning.¡±
¡°...Wait. Wait...You said, this morning?¡±
Jenny nodded. Jackson went into a football stance, the ball being the luggage in his grip.
Dr. Malcolm stared at Jenny for a long moment. The skin around his neck began to reddened. He stepped forward, making Jenny touch the frame of her holster under her jacket. His voice could barely leave his throat. ¡°Sarah...Murdered...just this morning?¡±
¡°That, is correct.¡±
¡°So...she was alive, the entire time?¡±
¡°Yes.¡±
Dr. Malcolm started to shake. His lips open, and close, open, and close. Whatever word he tried to say turned into an incoherent slur. The doctor¡¯s lips pursed, so hard they became white, he staggered to drop his back against the wall. His knees could only lock themselves to keep him propped up...but all he wanted to do was shake his head. ¡°If, sh-she wasn¡¯t dismembered, h...how did she die, this morning?¡±
Jenny clenched her jaw. A short glance up at the ceiling to steel herself, and she spoke as professionally as possible. ¡°I am sorry. Due to the sensitivity of the case, I cannot say.¡±
Dr. Malcolm¡¯s knees gave out and he fell sitting on the floor. Whatever business was going on in the background slowed to a halt. Medical staff, patients, even visitors all froze in place, stopping time together. They all turned their gaze onto a fully grown man who started to hug his knees. Dr. Malcolm pulled off his glasses, tears spilling out. He wiped some away before pressing his chin into a palm, then his entire mouth. The color on his face turned redder, the whites in his eyes a fine shade of rose pink.
¡°I¡¯m sorry...I¡¯m so sorry.¡± Dr. Malcolm uttered those words as he kept hugging his knees against the wall. ¡°I shouldn¡¯t have let her go. I¡¯m sorry. I didn¡¯t mean for things to be this way.¡±
Jackson quietly looked around him. All eyes were on Dr. Malcolm and his fallen state. Medical staff that knew him slowly came over, ready to step in to help. Patients that were familiar with the doctor also gripped at their hearts, unsure of what to say to repay his kindness to them.
This...had become a difficult situation.
Even so, Jenny took one small step forward and knelt down in front of the doctor. ¡°Dr. Malcolm. Did you kill Sarah Tucker?¡±
¡°It¡¯s all my fault.¡± Dr. Malcolm shuddered a nod, pulling at his hair as he cried. ¡°I should have insisted she stay by my side, then she wouldn¡¯t have to die. I shouldn¡¯t have started anything in the first place. I...I¡¯m a murderer. I got her killed because I let her go. I let her go. I let her gooooo...¡±
Jenny bit on her lip, but did not hesitate. She pulled out her cuffs, and spun them onto Dr. Malcolm¡¯s wrist. ¡°Dr. Samuel Malcolm, you have the right to remain silent. Anything¡ª¡±
Bing
Jackson heard a notification on his phone and pulled it out from his vest. One glance at a message, and he immediately gave a sharp tweet with his lips and gestured with a slashing hand over his neck.
Confession (~END~)
The Interview Rooms in Police Precinct 23 were unique.
They could be mistaken for spaces where musical bands could rent out a couple of hours to practice their cover song or designing their new hit single. All four sides of the wall had deep black geometrical foam pads that resembled dull spikes. The type of foam that soaked in any sound that was made inside of the interior. The floor was also made with a soft material that sucked in any ambience sound. There were no doors, rather the exits were impossible to find unless one was familiar with its design. Each wall had nothing but onyx black padding, any gap would be hidden in the lack of colour and shades. The only source of lighting was the over head fluorescent light.
There wasn¡¯t even the classical two way mirror. Or, it too was hiding behind the transparent foam. Some believe it would be harder to guess who is watching and from which angle. Some would also wager it was a form of psychological tactic against suspects.
Zero interference from the outside world. Justice always watching.
Felicia Harvey sat at the table, her brow furrowed in annoyance. ¡°Inspector May, correct? Why am I here? I am a sick person, I should be resting at home.¡±
Inspector May sat across from Felicia at a triangle table in the center of the interview room. Alone, she leaned back in her chair, crossed her legs to get comfortable, and adjusted the buttons on her blazer. ¡°You sure have a unique taste in mattresses. I never knew train beds could be that comfortable.¡±
The inspector tapped the table. The entire table top lit up, displaying a start up animation with electronic sounds. It broke Felicia¡¯s cool as she watched the triangle table brighten up and unfold a series of desktop like screens and windows with files placed on the side ¨C like an actual computer monitor.
All Inspector May had to do was double tap on a folder reading [SARAH TUCKER CASE] and drag one picture out of a sub folder. With a bloom of her finger tips the gesture expanded on a scanned image.
A train ticket. First Class.
¡°Not many people take the train out of the city. I mean, sure it¡¯s decent but old. Not to mention rather slow.¡± Inspector May continued, leaning back in her chair and tapping a finger on her chair¡¯s armrest. ¡°First thought would be a plane, or you driving. We¡¯ve had some suspects take a private boat and escape off another island where security is really lose. Train? I guess I¡¯ll give you an award for creativity.¡±
¡°Inspector¡± Felicia crossed her own legs, but winced in doing so with her muscle movement. ¡°This is my privacy. Your officers just grabbed me while I was on my way home. The way they cut me off in the middle of the road could have caused an accident. Are you really that eager to meet my lawyer?...Oh sorry, medications. I meant lawyers.¡± Felicia giggled with a shrug. ¡°Being an insurance agents gets you in many people¡¯s pockets. High, and low.¡±
¡°Hmmm.¡± Inspector May hummed and scratched a finger to her cheek. ¡°Miss Felicia Harvey. Where were you between the hours of 2:00 AM to 3:00 AM this early morning?¡±
Felicia rolled her eyes. She plucked out a bottle of lotion to rub her hands and her wrists. Even when she spread the cream evenly, she continued to playfully rub her hands together. ¡°I thought I already told your detectives I was stuck in the hospital, before they discharged me later in the morning.¡±
¡°Yes. Your roommate, Chandler Barnes. He was talking to you all night.¡±
The ex-insurance opened her hands with a shrug. ¡°The old geezer. Such a chatter box, wouldn¡¯t shut up. Thank goodness I asked for some sleep medications beforehand. Turned my back and nodded off, let the old man do whatever. I was out cold.¡±
Suddenly, the wall behind her caved in. Rather, a section of the wall opened up to reveal itself as a door. Sergeant Leo and Constable McLamb came in, clutching onto several plastic bags. They walked around, nodding to the inspector, who the latter pointed a finger to the table.
¡°Chandler was indeed talking,¡± Leo muttered ¡°even the nurses verified he was chatting up a storm--¡± He then flopped the first plastic bag onto the table top. Inside was a 1000 dollar bill. ¡°¡ªTo a bunch of pillows under a blanket.¡±
Felicia eyed the bag, the money. Lips pursed. She stopped playing with her hands.
McLamb leaned in next to her, before he touched the table top. It brought up an image and he expanded it to see in full detail. It was the photo of a dash cam, a driver with a cap and sunglasses gripping the steering wheel with driving gloves as it rushed down the street. ¡°Do you recognize this car, Miss Harvey?¡±
¡°It¡¯s obviously not mine, so no.¡±
¡°After preparing Chandler Barnes as your alibi, you snuck out of the hospital and took a taxi. You had someone break into Frank Tucker¡¯s car so you can have control. Using it for your own purpose.¡±
¡°What purpose is that?¡±
Inspector May tapped her knuckles on the table. ¡°Offing the one person who stood in the way to your man¡¯s heart.¡±
¡°Pffffft.¡± Felicia broke out laughing, clutching her gut. She would gasp every now and then, wincing in pain. Even so she chortled when she could. ¡°What are you talking about? The whole world, even the social media, thought she was dead from the beginning.¡± She clicked her tongue. ¡°It was only until this morning when your officers came to rub salt into my injuries after my boss let me go.¡±
Another door behind the inspector opened, startling Felicia. In walked Constable Jenny and Jackson. While the latter spun his fedora in his fingers, the former made a swiping gesture with her finger across her tablet.
A photo of a man appeared right in front of Felicia at the table. Color drained from her cheeks.
Jackson tapped his fedora on the table at the photo, before he placed his hat on his head. ¡°No doubt you were curious as to why a man would cling onto a dead woman he hated his guts for. Obviously, your first move was to find out why. In comes a private investigator, doing what he does best: tracking cheating husbands. Who also happen to have car-jacking on his resume ¨C and police records. Once you found where Frank Tucker has been moseying off to, you found the answer to Sarah¡¯s disappearing act.¡±
Jenny adjusted her arms under her police tablet. ¡°We received an eye witness report, from a new neighbor who had just moved into the cottage next to number 13 a few days ago. The witness and her friend finished their evening shift around 2:00 AM, the only time they could move their furniture. Around 2:30 AM, they saw a man leaving cottage number 13.¡± Jenny then tapped onto her tablet, and the triangle table between the inspector and Felicia pushed aside other images.
This time, it was playing a small video clip: It displayed a police line up, with several men. Among them was Frank Tucker, standing at tile number 7. He was wearing a full suit, his suit, while the others wore similar suits or clothing. In the corner of the video was a woman with a round belly. As she clutched the bottom of her bulging stomach, she leaned against the two way mirror to look at the line up who had just turned their backs to her.
[Ah him.] The pregnant woman poked at the glass. [Number 7, I¡¯m sure. But uuh... Something¡¯s different about him. The man I saw last night wore this exact suit, shoes, even hair, but shoulders were rather narrow, and the sleeves were oddly long. Like it hung over the palm and I could barely make out fingers. Number 7 right now looks like he fit the suit perfectly. You see? I can even see his full hands.].
Jenny pressed pause on the clip. ¡°Frank Tucker claimed he borrowed a co-worker¡¯s jeep without his knowledge. The forensic unit confirmed, the vehicle not only had Frank Tucker¡¯s trace DNA and hair, it also had Sarah Tucker¡¯s. We even followed the jeep¡¯s GPS record and discovered an unlicensed medical clinic in downtown. This verifies Frank¡¯s statement he often used his co-worker¡¯s vehicle to avoid attention or being tracked. After dinner with his wife, Frank Tucker drove the jeep to refuel before returning to his friends place.¡±
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
She then tapped her screen and remotely brought up a security camera photo, showing Frank Tucker inside a gas station. ¡°Attendant said he paid in cash, while during that time someone else took Frank Tucker¡¯s real car and intentionally broke the speed limit to be caught on the dash cam. This was an illusion to make the police believe he was the one who killed Sarah Tucker.¡±
Felicia stared at the video. She softly pulled any hands and fingers off the touch screen table, keeping them on her lap. The muscles in her jaw rippled as she rubbed a thumb across her wrist.
Inspector May tapped a finger on the edge of the table. ¡°Is there anything you like to tell us?¡±
¡°I have nothing to do with it. There, happy?¡±
¡°You know.¡± The inspector let out a huff as she adjusted her position in her chair. ¡°Love triangles, are often seen as a game. You win some, you lose some. And it¡¯s impossible to win it all, without someone getting hurt in the process, right?¡±
¡°Frank Tucker and I broke it off. I don¡¯t care about him.¡±
Inspector May slapped a hand onto the table. The touch screen automatically splashed a series of scanned documents and digital images across the screen like a new game of Spider Solitaire. Certificates, diplomas, degrees, awards, letters of recommendation, too much to list out in a single paragraph. The inspector continued while tapping her finger on each documents on the table.
¡°Felicia Harvey. Masters in Business Administration from University of Zurich, Switzerland; PhD in Insurance and Risk Management in Temple University, Philadelphia U.S.. Both magna cum laude, with distinction, and honorable mention. Top of the class AND valedictorian ¨C in which, I quote ¡®Wrote a 35 page letter to the Dean of the university to convince them why you should be elected as spokes person of the graduating class¡¯. Number 1, Number 1, Number 1.¡±
¡°...¡±
¡°Look. I don¡¯t know what you see in Frank Tucker. The man doesn¡¯t even have a high school diploma.¡± Inspector May opened her hands, gesturing a confused expression waiting to be answered. ¡°Has a wife who had been bullying him for 20 years, yet to have any kids. He relied on his partners to get his company off the ground and when they started to quit his company his business started to dig its own grave. Has zero carpentry experience. Renovations? Pffft. I can hire the kid in my neighbourhood to redo my whole patio worth posting on a home design Twitter page ¨C and he¡¯s only 15, hungry for summer jobs.¡± She turned her open hands into a finger gun point, eyes on the suspect. ¡°So, what do you see in him?¡±
Felicia clenched her jaw, breathing between her teeth. ¡°I saw him first--¡±
¡°I knew it.¡± Inspector May nodded to herself. ¡°This isn¡¯t about love. This is about finishing what you started: to be number one Frank¡¯s heart. You wanted to beat Sarah Tucker, stealing her man back to your hands. You want that satisfaction that you are number 1 in this love triangle, everything is within your control.¡± She knocked her knuckle into the touch screen, gesturing all those gold-framed degrees projected across the table. ¡°Frank Tucker has been using you as a life preserver, and you know it! You even counted on it to keep him on a leash. The moment he gave up on you at his wife¡¯s beck and call, you lost! Are you really the type of woman who would walk away from all that? In defeat? Are you really the type of person who walks away when you experience a small hiccup? TELL ME, YOU LOSER!¡±
Felicia bolted from her seat and swung a hand at the inspector!
Leo lunged to intercept Felicia by the wrist and pinned it down. At the same time, he pulled back her long thick sleeve for everyone to see.
Cluster of hives were welling up across Felicia¡¯s one wrist. Pus smeared with topical lotion, reddened from being rubbed for prolonged hours.
¡°This is what happens when paint dries on skin, Miss Harvey.¡± Leo spoke in a low voice. Felicia whipped her hand back and backed away, only to be gripped by Jenny and Jackson from escaping. Leo pulled out a pocket sanitary gel from his pocket, rubbing his hand clean, before resting his palms on his hips. ¡°Jenny and Jackson mentioned you had a watch, expensive Swiss brand. McLamb and I didn¡¯t see it this morning while you were packing, I doubt it was in that cheap cardboard box. Cottage number 13 still had wet paint. Stairs covered in newspapers and furniture protected by sheets. Paint dripped on your watch and wrist, and you tried to wipe it off.¡±
McLamb stepped in, placing the second evidence bag on the table. It was large, bulging with a thick white cloth that has turned grey from stains, foot prints, sooty hand prints, paint drips, caked saw dust, and other questionable sources. ¡°Out of all the furniture covers in Cottage number 13, only this one had your skin cell sample. You had to rub hard, to get the paint off. This has never been washed, it¡¯s been contaminated by years of work and dirt. You¡¯re lucky it¡¯s just a skin inflammation, or else the hospital would have to amputate your hand.¡±
¡°Frank Tucker nearly forgot one important info.¡± Inspector May rose to her feet and pressed out the wrinkles from her suit blazer. ¡°Couple of nights ago, you invited him to one last dinner. To officially break up. Since that was what he wanted, he visited you with no question. Dinner, dance, and then you had him cut the fruit with a kitchen knife... Obviously, you didn¡¯t do the dishes.¡± She paced around the table with fists on her hips. ¡°You already had a plan, and you had the right materials. Access to Frank Tucker¡¯s closet, your private investigator can break into cars, and you knew the destination. Once Sarah Tucker opened the door and realized it wasn¡¯t her husband she tried to slam the door on you!¡±
Inspector May took darted over to Felicia with a single step, glaring into her eyes. ¡°All it took was a blow to her head to stun her, you had all the time in the world to walk over, watch her squirm, trying to call for help. Then you removed the last obstacle in your game of love.¡± She made quick jabs in the air, as if striking an animal. ¡°You stabbed Sarah Tucker 35 times in the back, and traded the real murder weapon with the fruit knife Frank Tucker used. No one would have suspected it. No one would ever think of a second killer. Frank Tucker stood to gain the most in this tragedy, no one else. Even the Jury would have bought it hook, line, sunk. The perfect murder...but.¡± She then pointed right at Felicia¡¯s face. ¡°You¡¯re here, with us. You lost.¡±
¡°...35 times? Was it really that low?¡± Felicia started to laugh. Her body staggered on her feet. The constables held her as still as possible, but she ended up shaking her head, hair flipping left and right. Like a hound shaking off a little flea. ¡°Why, won¡¯t you let Frank Tucker take the fall? Don¡¯t you hate his guts too? And Sarah? Is she really a victim? Does she truly deserve being seen as an innocent target in all of this? That woman has played more hearts than a pianist. Dr. Malcolm wasn¡¯t her only honey bunny, I know. And what about the dead woman? The one you thought was her? Whose body was chopped up to make it look like Sarah died at the hands of the notorious Splitter? A spectacle that went viral in the news, social media, whatever!? Is Sarah Tucker really a saint worth fighting for!?¡±
Silence filled the interview room. Even so, the constables continued to hold Felicia as she started to ramble to herself.
¡°35 stabs. I swore I counted 50. I didn¡¯t even felt tired. She really deserved it, playing everyone for a fool...And that Frank Tucker.¡± Felicia glared up at the inspector, tears dripping out from her red eyes and bleeding black mascara down her cheeks. ¡°I¡¯ve known him since we were kids, and he¡¯s never taken responsibility for anything in his life. Missing toys, copied homework, skipping school, breaking his mother¡¯s vase ¨C he always blamed it on someone right next to him. And all it takes is a ¡®we¡¯re friends right?¡¯ or ¡®I love you¡¯ and you can¡¯t help but to forgive him...He always gets away with it.¡± Felicia Harvey reared her head back and started to stamp her bare foot into the floor, teeth clenching, a cry slowly rising from her throat.
¡°Why? Why can¡¯t you let that man take the fall? Everything was planned perfectly. I would get to watch him rot in prison, crying out ¡®I¡¯m innocent. I¡¯m innocent¡¯ and let it fall on deaf ears. He¡¯s ruined me, he ruined himself. He ruined everything....I¡¯M DOING YOU ALL A FAVOUR, YOU IDIOTS! LET FRANK TUCKER CARRY THE TITLE OF MURDER! LET HIM SUFFER FROM HIS OWN MISTAKE FOR ONCE! JUST LET ME GO! I DIDN¡¯T WASTE 20 YEARS OF MY LIFE ONLY TO BE TOSSED AROUND LIKE A SECOND-HAND DOLL! THE TUCKERS DESERVE TO BURN IN HELL!¡±
{~~After Report~~}
Dismembered Victim ¨C Identified as Emily Connors. Age 30. Lived alone and worked as a teacher for a local high school. Due to her habit of calling sick on an average basis, her absence was never noticed and no one reported her missing at first. The police searched Tampa Lake and have found her head, pelvis, and some remaining fingers ¨C however they have been seriously decomposed. Her family overseas has been contacted and will take the next available plane to claim her body. The police have offered support to her kin to provide burial services and funding for Emily Connors¡¯ funeral.
Frank Tucker ¨C Pleads guilty for manslaughter of Emily Connors due to a hit and run. Pleads not guilty to dismembering Emily Connors¡¯ corpse, claiming it was all Sarah Tucker¡¯s doing. Charged for: aiding and abetting a crime, negligence in reporting a crime, tampering with the body, and insurance fraud. Sentenced to 15 years in prison with possibility of parole. Shangri-Lah Carpentry Factory has been closed down and rebuilt as a new Amazon Storehouse.
Sarah Tucker ¨C Due to the lack of evidence insinuating Sarah Tucker dismembered Emily Connors and the defendant is deceased, no actions or charges could be made post-humorously. Her husband has been given special privileges to provide her a proper burial ceremony before he starts his sentence, under the supervision of officers. A vigil at St. Marlene was held in her honour, organized by Dr. Samuel Malcolm and close friends.
Felicia Harvey ¨C Charged for First Degree Murder of Sarah Tucker. Defendant continues to plea for not guilty, but all evidences and forensic reports provided by C.I.D. Team B have convinced the jury of Felicia Harvey¡¯s involvement in the crime at Cherry Grove Cottage Number 13. She has been sentenced to life imprisonment, no chance of parole. She has made many attempts of an appeal, all of which had been denied.
Splitter ¨C Still at large.
[== HEADLESS IDENTITY ¨C CASE CLOSED ==]