3rd From Sol

~ Learn from before. Live now. Look ahead.

3rd From Sol

Category Archives: Murder Mystery

Fortnight: Chapter 4 – The Devil in the Details

04 Sunday Apr 2010

Posted by Paul Kiser in All Rights Reserved, Fiction, Fortnight, Murder Mystery

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

LCI Gwen Ortiz, Murder Mystery

CHAPTER 4
The Devil in the Details


Friday, May 15, 2020 3:27 PM MDT

In the few hours that past, Gwen had done a week’s worth of work.  She was a person that could focus intently on one task, but could also stop and take care of another detail and then return to the original task without missing a beat.  The pressure of a P1 case only made her focus on the murder scene more intense.  Gwen was efficient, but thorough.  Every detail, picture, and fact had been referenced and entered on her tablet screen she carried with her.  The tablet never left her hand, or if she needed both hands she could attach it to her arm.  It was roughly the size and thickness of small yellow note pad of her grandfathers.’  He had a bunch of them in a filing cabinet in their garage when she was a child but she hadn’t seen a real yellow pad for years.

All the data Gwen entered was transmitted immediately to her personal server and to two backup servers.  She could access the case file anywhere in the world.  As a matter of protocol, Tommy, the ISPO, assigned the encryption key code in the flash form that he sent her to authorize her to be the LCI on this case, however, no one but Gwen’s team would be authorized to access the case file unless she was removed from the case.

After walking around the building several times, both inside and out, she had an exact knowledge of the layout of the murder scene.  In her mind she had worked out the possible scenarios of how the killer had entered the building and how the victim was executed.  In all scenarios the victim must have voluntarily come to the building, entered it, and kneeled on the floor.  Perhaps it was all done at gunpoint, but based on the lack of marks on the body and no evidence of a struggle at any of the entrances; the victim did not fight back at any point.  That allowed Gwen to rule out almost all ‘kidnapping/murder’ situations.

Gwen couldn’t be positive, but Elizabeth McKay must have known the murderer and likely came to the warehouse unaware of his or her intent.  That was the only scenario that made sense.  If that was the case then the murderer had been able to convince McKay trust him or her.  That gave Gwen some hope.  A person can gain the trust of a few people who will be gullible enough to walk into a murder, but it is nearly impossible to get 14 people to do it.  It was likely that McKay was the closest person to the murderer; therefore it was unlikely the other 13 potential victims would be as trusting.  In addition, McKay likely knew some or all of the other potential victims and they knew her.

At about noon Gwen decided to leak the information and victim’s name to the media.  She knew that it would increase the chances of identifying the murderer and make the potential victims on the alert for any strange requests from people they knew.  Gwen figured she had at least five or six days and maybe a month before the murderer would try to kill someone else.  This murder probably took a month or more to plan and execute, so Gwen would have time to assemble a team and train them in her style of investigation before they would have to deal with another body.

As the LCI on the scene she had to oversee the handling of the scene including and the removal of the body. She had dismissed the paramedics soon after arriving. She knew the body would have to lay there for several hours and she respected the time of others. All of the police administrators left within an hour of her arrival this morning. They knew hanging around would be inappropriate, as their job was to hand off murder cases, not investigate. One patrol unit stayed according to the policy that was established back in 2016 when a murderer came back, or perhaps had hidden out at the crime scene, and killed the LCI and the CSI team.  After that it was determined that at least two patrol officers must stay on scene until everyone leaves.

The CSI team had finished up an hour ago and left. A recovery unit picked up the body and was now driving out of the parking lot.  Gwen had been in contact with the landlord and a representative had stopped by and given Gwen the run down on the property…who leased it last, who had access, who looked at the warehouse in the past year, etc.  The building rep transmitted the details to Gwen as they talked.

The most of the doors were the old style key locked doors, but two were card/keycode locks.  The bad news was that the locks had not been changed in at least six years.  The rep told Gwen that the building had been rented by five businesses and one church in the past six years so the number of people who might have had access to a key was impossible to determine.  Either the murderer was smart or lucky, or both.

By now Gwen had over 150 flashes regarding this case in her IN box. Technology was great, but it was overwhelming and unforgiving. Every document she received, every response she gave, or didn’t give would be a part of the case and subject to being presented in court. Attorneys would pour over her flash traffic looking for things they could turn against her and the case the DA would make in court. If the DA couldn’t get a conviction then police administrators would be even less forgiving than the attorneys.

As Gwen walked out of the shadow of the building she squinted in the bright sunlight.  The sun still felt strong and warm.  Gwen looked down along the side of the building and saw her new car.  She had almost forgotten that she had it.  Her old car was a used 2014 model that didn’t have all the new communication and data technology.  Gwen could work out of the passenger seat in the new car and have access to more office functions than were available in most brick and mortar office buildings.  She headed to the passenger side of the car and then realized she should leave the area.  If Gwen stayed to work it would mean the patrol unit would have to stay and guard her. She opted to go get coffee somewhere and sort through the ever-growing digital file of messages.

She wasn’t familiar with this warehouse area so she tapped the tablet screen and it lit up.  She touched the button on the touch screen that said, “Find Me”.  Instantly she had a live view of her location from a satellite in orbit. It showed her car, the parking lot, the building. She touched the reverse zoom icon and the image pulled up and showed about a ten block area. She had coffee shops on auto label and a coffee cup appeared on the image just a few blocks east of her current location. She closed the car door and said “Start” and the car began to hum.

Her tablet rang as she walked into the Starbucks. She grimaced. She hated talking on her phone in places where people were socializing. She turned around and went back outside. Before she answered she looked at the number. It was one of the LCI’s she had contacted to join her on this case.

Jake was older. He used to handle murder cases and had been very successful, but four years ago he decided to only handle large theft cases. Gwen had worked with him a few times as an intern and after she got her license she asked him about his decision to change. He told her that one day after a murder-suicide case he was paid $10,000 for proving the obvious…the husband killed his wife and child before killing himself. Jake then wondered if the husband realized that someone was going to make $10,000 off of his deranged act of cold-blooded murder. Jake decided he wasn’t to take any more money because someone’s violent act. Gwen knew this case would be a tough sell, but she wanted Jake on this case and she wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

“How’s it going Jake,” she began.  “Gwen, I know that tone,” he replied.  Gwen reminded herself that you don’t get to be a good LCI without being able to read the prosody in the voice.  “I need to contract you,” Gwen said.  He paused for a moment and then said, “You lose something?”  Gwen took a short breath and then said, “I’m the lead on a P1.”

For a moment Jake felt a little burst of pride that Gwen was selected for the most important case an LCI could be assigned after only a few years on the job, but he knew exactly what this meant and why she was calling him.  “So you’ve lost your mind…I don’t do those….no value,” he said.  Gwen was not going to let him brush her off.  She said, “Look, it’s big and I need your help in finding two more LCI’s to help us.  You can stay in the office and keep us on track.  I need you on this case.”  Gwen voice didn’t noticeably change when she said ‘I need you’ but Jake could tell that Gwen was being absolutely sincere.

Gwen had natural abilities, but she had correctly identified her weakness…the lack of long-term experience.  Jake saw that her plan to have him to run the inside of the case was the perfect solution.  In his career he had never been the lead on a P1 case, but he had been on a P1 team five times and he saw lead LCI’s succeed and fail.  This late in his career he had no desire for the pressure of being the lead, but a P1 case was just too good of an opportunity to thumb his nose at and he could be a valuable mentor for Gwen and the rest of the team.  Still, he didn’t want to look too easy.  He said, “Let’s get together and talk it through…but I’m not saying ‘yes’, understood?”  “Understood,” she replied.  She smiled.  He just said ‘yes.’

Gwen gave Jake the information to access the case file and made plans to meet Jake at 7 PM and then went back inside.  She could leave Jake to pick the other two LCI’s and he could task both of them out throughout the course of the investigation.  Using him as a resource and task master would free her up to follow the investigation in the field.

She was feeling very pleased with herself until she saw a red light flash on her tablet.  It was a new flash and in the description it said, “FBI – URGENT.  This was not good.  Were they taking over the case?  She had hoped that since they didn’t show up at the crime scene that they were uninterested in her case….that’s right, she reminded herself, it was her case.  She opened the flash and saw that it was a request for operational progress briefs every 48 hours.  It would have been better if the FBI would not be involved at all, but this wasn’t as bad as she feared.  She would just put two daily reports for the DA together and submit them to the FBI.

The rest of the backed up flash traffic were mostly predictable.  She was pleasantly surprised that $300,000 was already deposited in her investigation fund and that four credit cards were waiting for her at Denver C & C Center.  Unfortunately, she had to pick them up by 5 PM or wait until Monday.  She headed out to the car.  It would look bad if police administration had expedited her credit cards only to have them sit on someone’s desk all weekend.  This is one of those issues that would haunt her even though she wouldn’t have anyone to give the credit cards to until Monday at the earliest.

Gwen’s was clearly irritated.  She was the lead LCI on a P1 case and her priority right now was an errand.  She knew she needed to get her team on board quickly so she didn’t get caught up in little details like picking up plastic late on Friday afternoon.

The Earlier Fortnight Chapters

Chapter One & Two

Chapter Three

Fortnight: Chapter 3

14 Sunday Mar 2010

Posted by Paul Kiser in All Rights Reserved, Fiction, Fortnight, Murder Mystery

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

Book, Fiction, Fortnight, Murder Mystery

CHAPTER 3
Beware the Ides of March

Sunday, March 15, 2020 1:08 PM MDT
It was a cold day in March in the Denver Women’s Rehabilitation Center. Most of the visitor tables were occupied with a prisoner and friend or relative, but one table had an elderly man sitting alone…waiting.

A large Hispanic prison guard escorted a woman in the adjacent hallway outside the visitor room along a Plexiglas window that ran almost the length of the room.  The guard stopped the woman and pointed to the waiting man.  She shrugged her shoulders and they continued to the door.  The woman turned her shoulders to walk past the guard holding open the door for her and crossed towards the table.

Liza McKay was a 23 year-old woman.  If you looked closely you might be able to see that at one time she was much more attractive than she appeared today.  Her face looked tired and worn as if she was beaten down, unworthy of even oxygen she breathed.  Her dirty blonde hair was carelessly brushed as if she made a half-hearted effort to groom herself.  Even the most casual observer could see that the light had gone out of her life.

As she approached the lone man at the table she wondered why she had agreed to meet with him.  He had contacted by email and told her that he wanted to meet with her before she was released from prison.  He only said that they had something in common and they could help each other.  He made it clear that his intentions were not romantic.  In the end she decided that she was not in a position to ignore someone who expressed an interest in her and who didn’t want to kill her.  Still, she was wondering why she was going through with this.

Liza was convicted of manslaughter on the death of her two children when she drove her car into Chatfield Reservoir.  The prosecution had built their case that she had intended a murder/suicide and that once the car hit the water her survival instinct took over and she swam to safety leaving her children to drown.  Unfortunately, there was no evidence to confirm the prosecution’s theory.  They had no suicide note and no witnesses.  They managed to bluff her into thinking that their offer of manslaughter was a gift and her court assigned lawyer neglected to tell her that if it went to court it was likely all charges would be dismissed.

She was serving a twelve-year sentence; however, after three years the Colorado Corrections Service had been ordered by the court to release ten percent of the female inmates because of overcrowding.  Elizabeth was selected for release because she was judged to be a low risk threat to society.  Her last evaluation suggested that if released she would likely not reintegrate back into society and would kill herself within six months.  As part of the conditions of her release she was ordered that she couldn’t have children for at least ten years, nor work in a job that cared for children.  Now she would be released sometime in the next two weeks and this man was her only contact she had with the outside in the last two years.

“Miss McKay,” the man said as he stood and held out his hand.  “Yes…Robert Pritchard?” she asked.  “Would you mind explaining what this is about,” she continued.  The man hesitated for a moment.  He knew that she was at a flash point and he needed an opportunity to be heard.  “As I said in note, we have something in common, Miss McKay.”  “And what would that be,” she said cynically.  Robert ignored the tone and continued, “I am an outcast that never was.”  Liza looked confused.  He continued, “It would be easier if they would cast you out…send you away…but they don’t.  They make you live, surrounded by your shame, never allowed to forget.”

Robert had gotten her attention.  Liza’s worst fears of life after prison had been validated.  She suspected that she would never have a normal life again and this man was confirming it.  He saw that she was really listening now.  He kept going, “I have done some bad things in my life and most people probably wish I was dead.  For a while I wished I was dead…but I don’t anymore.  I want to live and I want to help others like me….that’s why I’m here.”

Liza was still wary but some part of her wanted to believe there might be hope that her life might recover after prison.  “I don’t want to join a cult,” she warned him.  He smiled and said, “It’s not a cult.  We get together, …sometimes at a coffee shop, sometimes for a beer,…we talk, get our frustrations out, support each other, make suggestions, and we protect each other.”  She had almost stopped listening.  He noticed that her eyes lost focus and he waited for her to come back.  Still in almost a trance she said, “God, I miss Chai tea.”  He smiled and said, “We can put that at the top of the list.”  She smiled and then Liza’s mood changed, “I’m supposed to be making my release plans…I don’t know…,” her words stopped.  Robert knew what she needed.  “We can help with that.  I’ll check with the group and we’ll give you a couple of options of where to go after you’re released…you choose….and we’ll set it all up and make the arrangements for your transportation.”  This was the first person who had been nice to her in years and she didn’t know how to respond.  “Mr…I forgot your name, I’m so sorry!”  He again smiled and said, “Robert, Robert Pritchard, but please call me Robert.”  Before she could continue he said, “We also have a small fund for your living expenses when you get out.  It will help until you get a job.  Our group will also start looking for job possibilities for you.”

He had done what he came to do and now it was time to listen.  He waited.

Liza began to softly cry.  It was a foreign emotion to her.  She had protected herself from the endless punches of hate and anger around her and now someone was being compassionate and she didn’t understand why.  She had been afraid to go back to the real world for fear of the unexpected and now someone was helping her establish her life again.  She didn’t know what to say, but finally she said, “What do you get out of this?”  He responded, “Your support.  That’s what we do.  We support each other.  Eventually, maybe you won’t need our group, but until then we’ll take care of each other.”

“Please understand, before today I didn’t know what I was going to do and now you show up and give me the best future I could hope for..and I’ve learned to be suspicious.”  He looked her in the eye and said, “Keep that suspicious nature.  It may save your life.  Our group will work with you and your probation officer.  If at any point you or your probation officer feel we are not acting in your best interest we will walk away.”  She thought for a moment and said, “What do I do next?  He replied, “The group will meet this afternoon and will start working out the details.  Let the Warden’s office know that we’ll be contacting them on your behalf.  Then we go step by step.”

“Thank you…,” she wanted to say more, but didn’t know what to say.  They both stood and they shook hands.  Then it suddenly hit her, “Wait, what is the group’s name?”  He got a funny look on his face and then said, “Well, most of us call it F Squared, but our founder calls it Final Forgiveness.

Fortnight: Chapters 1 & 2

08 Monday Mar 2010

Posted by Paul Kiser in All Rights Reserved, Fiction, Fortnight, Murder Mystery

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

Book, Fiction, Murder Mystery

FORTNIGHT
by Paul Kiser

CHAPTER 1
Number One

Thursday, 14 May 2020 11:48 PM MDT
She was on her knees on the cold concrete clutching her arms to her chest. Frozen by fear and guilt, her mind could not focus on anything long enough to decide what to do next.  She could not control her sobbing, which was the only sound that could be heard in the darkness. From behind her she heard him say, “I absolve you of your sins.” Suddenly she felt a sense of calm come over her.  It all became crystal clear.  This was his plan all the time.  Her mind stopped racing.

She didn’t hear the gunshot as the bullet entered the back of her head before the sound reached her ears.  She felt a shock, but she was dead before her face hit the warehouse floor.  Her arms went limp as her body had launched forward from the impact.  The echo of the shot filled the large, empty building and then silence.  The blood oozed from around the back of her head and found the easiest route to the concrete.  The smell of gunpowder now filled the air.

“That’s one” he said.

CHAPTER 2
P1

Friday, May 15, 2020 10:11 AM MDT
“So this is what it feels like to be rich,” she thought to herself. Gwen Ortiz hadn’t owned a new car since high school and now she was driving a brand new chrome with blue accents, class three, triple hybrid heading north on the I-25 just past the Boulder Turnpike.  Fifty years ago this part of the north Denver suburbs was just being developed, but 2020 she was barely out of the downtown area.  The week had started out cold and stormy, but today it was nice enough to open up her sunroof. She hoped it would be a quiet day because she just wanted to enjoy some bonding time with her new wheels.

Gwen was not a startling attractive young woman, but she certainly not unattractive. She was the type of woman that would cause an admiring look from a male observer, but in a business environment her demeanor was all business.  Her shoulder-length brunette hair was not in fashion, but it gave her a look of ageless sensibility.  Today’s style of short cropped hair was not something that appealed to Gwen, nor were the tailored shirts with ties.  She didn’t like pandering to a male look in order to gain respect and she found times when her female charm could be useful in a career dominated by older ex-cops.  Despite Gwen’s opinion, the majority of professional women had adopted a look of their male counterparts. With the exception of prostitution, dresses were unheard of in the professional world.  Even Gwen wore slacks as it would have sent the wrong message to wear a dress on the job, but she liked dresses and skirts and hoped they would come back into favor someday soon.

She was thinking that maybe she should swing by home, change into a skirt and top and take a drive up into the mountains.  It would help her disengage from work and she deserved a break.  She decided to head back home to change.  Gwen guided the new car down the next off ramp and turned left under the freeway and turned left again onto the on ramp heading south.  Then her car and cell phone began to sing. She glanced at the number in display on the dash, hesitated, then finally touched the screen.  Then sunroof began closing.  Gwen thought maybe she had done something wrong, but then realized that it must be a built-in function of the car programming.

“What’s up?” she said, barely disguising her impatience. She knew the voice on the phone.  Of all the policemen on the force, this was the one she trusted.  “Where are you?” the familiar male voice asked.  “I was thinking about leaving town,” she answered half jokingly, “I’m on the I-25, what’s up?”  “We’ve got a new one, and you’re gonna want this one.” the caller told her.  Gwen had thought about turning down a new contract and continuing with her plan, but when Tommy said that she was going to want it, she knew that it was either a high profile case, or a lucrative case.  Tommy was doing Gwen a favor and both of them knew it.  “Anyone I know?” Gwen asked tentatively.  “Not personally, but you remember a mom that drove her car into Chatfield with her two kids, then left them to die?”  Tommy didn’t wait for her response and continued, “Her name was Elizabeth McKay”.  “Wasn’t there something about her on the web recently,” Gwen asked.  “Yeah, the LCI couldn’t prove it was murder, but they got her on manslaughter and she served three years and just got out early.  A lot of people were unhappy about the short sentence,” Tommy said.  Gwen could see why Tommy called her.  The police force and the public would like to see this woman back in prison and she is suspected of doing something illegal.  Her job would be to prove she should be back behind bars. “What did she do now?” Gwen asked.  “She got herself killed….somebody executed her last night.” said Tommy.

Gwen’s mind quickly changed gears.  She didn’t need Tommy to describe the wounds.  She knew that she must have been shot in the back of the head, or possibly in the middle of the forehead with two shots to the heart.  “The DA is nervous about this one,” Tommy added.   “M1 or 2?” Gwen asked.  “Neither, it’s a P1 contract,” said Tommy.  Gwen needed a moment to let ‘P1’ set in.  Tommy let her think for a moment before he continued,

“You can hire up to three other LCI’s, and assistant and an Admin, but any travel out of the area or expenses over $100,000 will need to be approved by the District Attorney.  You will have an Assistant DA at your disposal.  The DA wants daily reports and a written report at the end of each week.  In the end you’ll need to file your normal summary report and expenses, but the Admin should do that.  I have a suggestion for the Admin.  He worked on the Bennett case.  I’ll send you his name and everything else you need to know in an email.  The scene is at 4780 Geneva in a warehouse.  Enter from the east side. Don’t screw it up.”

Gwen hit END on the steering wheel.  She had never worked on a P1 case before and Tommy couldn’t have given her the case if the DA hadn’t personally approved her as the lead LCI.  An M1 case would have meant $15,000 to $40,000 net for her, but a P1 case has an unlimited budget plus staff.  This was not just murder and it was more than an execution.  There was something more that the DA and Tommy weren’t telling her, but Gwen wasn’t going to question their motives.  She had a new car to pay for and this one would do that and more.  This case could set her up for life.

Ten years ago Gwen’s business didn’t exist.  Back then a police force had detectives to investigate everything from theft, to rape, to murder. Now a city police force consisted of patrol officers and administration. Everything else was contracted out.  The police did keep pornography and vice in their investigative services, but that was mainly because those crimes are easy picking for cops.  Even if a person were innocent they would plea bargain to keep their name out of the papers, so the conviction statistics were near 99% What muni-government would cut funding to keep ‘perverts’ off the streets?

But theft, rape, and murder were too messy.  Too many hours of investigation with little or no results.  Muni-governments quickly learned that by contracting out investigations to Licensed Contract Investigators, or LCI’s, they could make a budget for investigations and control the costs.  An LCI would have to do their work for a set price and if they didn’t get results, they didn’t get more work.  Everyone wins…at least that was the line of the politicians.  But privatization of social functions has a way of overlooking the negatives.  Negatives like the cases left uninvestigated because the expense and time would likely exceed that payout.  Negatives like the LCI who cuts corners on an investigation to reduce expenses on case where the defendant is too poor to challenge the shoddy investigation.  Still, taxes hadn’t been increased in ten years and nobody wanted to touch that issue.

Gwen had been licensed for three and a half years now. Mostly small cases, but she was given two murders in the past eight months and had done well on both.  Tommy was a Senior Investigative Services Procurement Officer (ISPO) and he like Gwen’s attitude and ethic. Gwen didn’t give excuses, she just worked harder and for that she towered over her fellow LCI’s.  Tommy wouldn’t take a risk on a P1 case.  He knew Gwen would be the person to get the job done, and get it done quickly.  The last P1 case involved the killing of three Democratic candidates, including one running for Governor.  It took eight months, cost over six million dollars and in the end the person the LCI had accused turned out to be in Los Angles on the day of the murder.  The case was so badly handled that the DA asked the judge to dismiss the case.  A lot of people had to find new careers after that one.

The type of case determines the budget for the LCI.  Theft cases are almost always under $1,000 and the theft loss has to be at least 200% of the investigative budget…unless the victim wants to pay for the LCI’s time.  Rape and sexual assault cases have budgets from $2,000 to $5,000, again, unless the victim and/or family want to pay more. Murder cases begin at $5,000, but the ISPO, like Tommy can authorize budgets up to $100,000.  The DA can authorize anything higher, including dipping into a federally mandated emergency fund.  A P1 case, or Priority One case has no limit on the budget, but it does require oversight by a Senior ISPO and the DA.  P1 cases assume that the general public is in danger and that there is a risk of additional murders.

Gwen was mulling over why this case would justify P1 status as she took the Havana Street exit.  A P1 case typically involved terrorism or a serial killer, but someone killing a killer hardly seemed worthy of an unlimited budget.  Maybe this was not the first vigilante type killing and they saw a pattern, but even still, calling a P1 case would mean committing money that would bring the attention of state and federal authorities.  There was a real danger that the feds would step in and take the case away from her.  Gwen suddenly felt a heavy feeling in her stomach.  This case could set her up for life, or end her short career.

The warehouse was your typical industrial type building.  A large building that covered almost a block running north/south, and a half a block running east/west.  It was probably two stories high, but with no windows, you couldn’t really tell.  It was probably built more than twenty years ago, but the outside had been painted sometime in the last five years. Three police cars were in the parking lot, plus an ambulance, and a few other official looking unmarked cars.  He saw an officer standing by a door and figured that was the entrance point. The officer was a typical patrol type.  He looked to be about 250 lbs. with a shirt that was stretched over his bulging muscles.  Steroids may have no place in sports, but in law enforcement they are an unwritten requirement.

She nodded at the officer, flashed her LCI license and badge, and the man opened the door for her.  She had been an LCI for less than a year before she learned that there is no purpose served in making conversation with a patrol officer.  They can’t do anything for you but open the door, tape off a crime scene, and bust heads.  Beyond that they stick to themselves in their own cult.  Asking them a question will generally result in a condescending look and a shrug of the shoulders. Gwen noted that this one must be new to the force.  Experienced officers make the rookies guard the door, and this officer almost smiled. Real patrol officers have a stone face that never changes. Police officers usually don’t like LCI types. Probably because they think LCI’s are overpaid private detectives that get to do the easy work.

As she walked in from the bright light of the morning sun her eyes adjusted to the dimness of the warehouse.  The lights were on, but it wasn’t very well lit.  She walked a few steps straight in and then saw a group gathered to her left.  One man broke away from the group and came to meet her.  “That didn’t take you long,” said Tommy.  “I was just north of the Turnpike,” replied Gwen.  “Has CSI been called?” she asked.  “Not yet,” Tommy nodded.  “I prefer Reese’s group,” Gwen said. “You make the call…you’re the P1 Lead Investigator,” Tommy reminded her.  Gwen dialed her cell phone as they walked toward the group.  She hesitated as the Rocky Mountain CSI dispatch answered.  She gave them the needed information, ended the call, and then continued to head toward the group of men.

As they met the group Tommy made the introductions.  There were four patrol officers, three other police administrators, two paramedics, and one other person who was described as an aide of the DA.  Gwen knew two of the police administrators and had interviewed one of the patrol officers as the first on the scene her first murder case.  She didn’t know the others.  After a few pleasantries she quickly turned her attention to the crime scene.

The body was of a young woman, maybe 30, lying on her stomach. Gwen could only see the right side of her face and the arms were along her sides.  The pool of blood was mostly near her head and upper body but the floor must have been sloped because it had slowly flowed away from her head and to the left.  It was a single shot to the back of the head.  Likely she was on her knees, but the autopsy would determine the bullet angle.

“Who found her?” Gwen asked.  “Officer Rodriguez was first on scene, but we had received an email,” said Tommy.  He handed her a folded page from his pocket.  She opened it up and read it.  It was addressed to the Denver District Attorney:

My first kill was to atone for the sins of the mother.  She killed, and kills, but maybe her greatest sin was in not killing.  You will find her body at 4780 Geneva St.  There will be 13 more.
14

Now Gwen understood the P1 status. A serial killer had made his first kill.

(Note: All rights reserved. All characters are fictitious and any resemblance to a real person(s) is coincidental)

Other Pages of This Blog

  • About Paul Kiser
  • Common Core: Are You a Good Switch or a Bad Switch?
  • Familius Interruptus: Lessons of a DNA Shocker
  • Moffat County, Colorado: The Story of Two Families
  • Rules on Comments
  • Six Things The United States Must Do
  • Why We Are Here: A 65-Year Historical Perspective of the United States

Paul’s Recent Blogs

  • Dysfunctional Social Identity & Its Impact on Society
  • Road Less Traveled: How Craig, CO Was Orphaned
  • GOP Political Syndicate Seizes CO School District
  • DNA Shock +5 Years: What I Know & Lessons Learned
  • Solstices and Sunshine In North America
  • Blindsided: End of U.S. Solar Observation Capabilities?
  • Inspiration4: A Waste of Space Exploration

Paul Kiser’s Tweets

Tweets by PaulKiser

What’s Up

June 2023
S M T W T F S
 123
45678910
11121314151617
18192021222324
252627282930  
« Jun    

Follow Blog via Email

Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 1,651 other subscribers

Create a website or blog at WordPress.com

 

Loading Comments...