Front Page Fatale: The First Ida Bly Thriller

by Daniel Fox

  “Neil, right?”

  “Nolan. Carpenter.”

  “Sorry. Anything actually getting done here?”

  Officer Carpenter shook his head. “Not a goddamned thing. I’m actually starting to feel sorry for the big lunkhead.” He nodded over at Schuttman, a head taller than anybody else in the mix. “Nobody would get anything done with this mess. We really got to start keeping you news guys in a pig pen or something. Look at him.”

  Bob looked. Schuttman’s round face was red, lips pressed thin. “He have a good clearance rate?”

  “Hard to say. He was partnered with Wally Clemp. Clemp had a great rate. Schuttman on his own... Let’s just say nobody gets why the good Captain Donohoe assigned him the case.”

  “Donohoe?”

  “Head of the Homicide department.”

  “Gotcha. I’ve been away a while.”

  “Yeah. The war had a way of interrupting things, huh?” Carpenter snorted. “On the plus side, if Schuttman starts crushing the heads of those other reporters you’ll have less competition for the big scoops, eh?”

  “Speaking of which.” Bob held up a folded five dollar bill between them.

  “Sorry chief. There’s nothing to say because not much of anything’s been done.” Carpenter eyed the five as Bob tucked it away.

  “Maybe in a day or two. You get me a juicy exclusive, there’s an extra five in it for you.”

  Bob turned to go.

  “Oh wait.”

  Bob turned back. “Yeah?”

  “How about something on the other thing?”

  “Other thing?”

  “Clemp. The missing detect-”

  “Yeah, Schuttman’s partner. What about him?”

  “Well, Schuttman was looking into him, right? Before this.” Carpenter waved his hand at the crowd. “Didn’t see it myself, but I heard from one of the civilian admins that Schuttman was talking to a Robbery guy, Fortier, maybe about Clemp.”

  “’Maybe’ isn’t much.”

  “Wait. So Schuttman is talking to Fortier. He has this bag of files.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “Case files maybe. Robbery files maybe.”

  Connection? Bob looked down at his feet, thinking. Clemp came into mystery money. Clemp’s wife said Schuttman left with some files from Clemp’s office. Schuttman has a bunch of files here in H.Q., maybe talks to a Robbery guy about them. Robbery files could connect back to loads of new money... somehow.

  “Does that sound like it’s five bucks of inside stuff?”

  Bob shrugged. “Maybe.”

  “’Maybe’ isn’t much.”

  Bob laughed. “How reliable is this? Who’s your source?”

  “One of the filing girls. I’d say reliable as to what went down, she has a crush on me. I’d say unreliable as to what was in the files and what Schuttman and Fortier were talking about, it’s pure speculation.”

  “I’d say then that we’re up to about to two bucks and fifty cents.”

  “Well then here’s the rest. While Schuttman and Fortier are yakkin’, A.C. Pointe comes by, pulls Schuttman away. When Schuttman comes back he doesn’t have the files anymore.”

  “Pointe took them? To help, or to confiscate?”

  Carpenter shrugged. “What I do know is that big brass like Pointe usually doesn’t mingle with the dicks all that much. But I’ve seen them myself, Pointe and Schuttman, a couple of times, heads together. And that is a fact, Jack, speculation-free.”

  “From what I know Professional Standards isn’t involved in the search for Clemp. Why not?”

  Carpenter thought, shook his head. “Good question. It sounds like this is their kind of gig, doesn’t it?”

  “But instead it gets planted in the hands of a gorilla who isn’t particularly known for his solo solve rate. What’s going on here?”

  Carpenter looked over at Schuttman. “I don’t know man, but suddenly I’m feeling a little bit spooked.”

  CHAPTER 16

  “Hey, I know you!”

  The city morgue. Jane Doe on the slab, covered by a sheet. Chemical smells thick enough to sting. A tall lean older man in tie and vest, hair pomaded just so, round wire-rim glasses, wearing an apron over his finery.

  “Sergeant Schuttman?” A German accent.

  “I’ve seen you in the society pages.”

  “Doctor Vincent Bader, how do you do?”

  “Bader! Right! You do all that volunteer stuff with the nut... With the...”

  “Mentally ill. Yes.”

  “I saw a picture with you and the Mayor and Hedy Lamarr. What’s she like?”

  “Extraordinarily beautiful. Polite. Charming. And wasting an incredible brain in those motion pictures.”

  “Hedy Lamarr, boy. I don’t know what I’d do I met someone like her.”

  “You rapidly find that the faces in the society pages are burdened with the same amount of humanity as everyone else. You would do just fine, I am sure. So...” The Doctor nodded at the examination table.

  “Yeah... I guess we’d better huh? Not that I’m complaining, but what’s a big deal like you doing slumming around here?”

  The Doctor lit a cigarette, moved toward the table. “I believe I am here to give good press, yes? I was called in by your superiors in the force, I rather suspect at the Mayor’s request. To put a known medical face on a case of such notoriety. Pure nonsense of course. I am qualified for autopsies, but your medical examiner and your science man Pinker do exemplary work. Now, I suggest you gird yourself, Sergeant.”

  The Doc took up the ends of the sheet covering the girl. Looked up, cocked an eyebrow.

  George nodded.

  The Doc flipped the sheet back, carrying it down to the end of the table. Revealing the girl.

  George let out a breath, turned away. “Jesus.”

  “Take a moment.”

  “Sorry. I’ve seen stuff, you know? But this...”

  “Yes.”

  “I mean, I’ve even been involved in some things. German name, what with the past couple of wars, people came after me sometimes...”

  “Believe me, I understand.” The Doc deliberately pronounced his accent. “At least I had the good sense to leave the ‘von’ part of my name behind when I came over.”

  “Alright, let’s get this thing done.” George turned back and forced himself to look down at the victim. She was washed clean now, everything exposed under the room’s examination light. “I think it’s maybe worse now.”

  “Yes. Sometimes blood can cover some of the most egregious sins.”

  “Were you able to figure out a cause of death in all that?”

  “Not for sure. What I do have is speculation, albeit of the educated kind. I’ve put together what I think might be the timeline of the violations to this young woman.” The Doctor turned her head slightly. “The bruising on the right cheek, a heavy fist blow from a decently strong individual. My guess is that this was the launching point, enough to stun and stagger her. The bruises on the throat next, strangulation. I’m hoping enough to kill her, to spare her what followed.” He pointed at the girl’s mashed face. “The beating.”

  The Doctor put his fingers in her mouth, parted her teeth. “The tongue was hacked somewhat on this side with a sharp instrument, then ripped out the rest of the way, as you can see.”

  George made notes on his pad. “Got it.”

  “And then we come to this.” The Doctor sighed and waved a hand at the girl’s chest which had been sewed shut, along with the autopsy’s Y-cut. “Her lungs were removed.”

  “The fu- Why?”

  “Who can say? What I can tell you is the perpetrator used a much sharper instrument to cut open her chest. The cuts were quite smooth and precise. This says to me that our killer possesses at least a modicum of medical skill, and an extremely sharp instrument. Much sharper than whatever was initially used on her tongue. He then cut and pulled apart her ribs to facilitate removing the lungs.”

  “Facilitate?�
��

  “To make it easier.”

  George ducked his head, hiding a blush. “Oh. Sure.”

  “There is one more thing. Will you be able to assist me in turning her over? Your man Pinker has already dusted her for fingerprints. I believe he found nothing. Other than that, the only bits of substance I found on her skin and in her wounds were dirt and grass from where her body was found. I understand there was far too little blood for that to be considered the scene of the killing.”

  “Yeah, that’s what Pinker said.”

  George tucked his pad and pencil under his arm. He took the girl’s legs in his hands. The flesh was of course cold, he had known to expect that, but it was still a shock to him just how cool she was. This had been a person not too long ago, eating, breathing, maybe she had allergies, warm maybe to a boyfriend’s touch, maybe blushing when her friends teased her about something... now just cold.

  The Doctor took her by the shoulders and nodded to George. They turned her over. Laid her on her stomach.

  The word BITCH had been carved in sharply-angled letters down the length of her back, at an angle.

  “So, if it had just been the beating and the strangulation and the tongue, I might tell you it was purely a crime of passion and or madness. But the lungs, and this charming message would indicate-”

  “It was more personal. Yeah. Thanks Doc.”

  CHAPTER 17

  “Denny D. Green, as I live and breathe!”

  An Automat near City Hall. Denny Green pulled a roast beef sandwich from its cabinet, put it on his tray with his coffee. His head turtled down into his shoulders at the sound of her voice.

  He turned, half-attempted a smile for the sake of politeness. “Miss Bly.”

  “Did I ever tell you that you’re my favourite coroner in the whole wide world?”

  Green politely pushed past her, clearly wishing she was bothering someone else, and sat at one of the booths.

  Ida slid in across from him, uninvited. “Guess you’re wondering why I’m here.”

  “No.”

  “I mean, here you are, eating lunch by yourself-”

  “That was the intention anyway.”

  “And the biggest murder case on the city’s books is rolling right along back at City Hall.” Silence as Green drank his coffee. Ida drummed her fingers on the table. Finally: “Well?”

  “Well what?”

  “Why aren’t you on the case?”

  “Vincent Bader is an extremely accomplished surgeon.”

  “And you’re an extremely accomplished coroner. And a fantastically handsome one to boot.”

  Green rolled his eyes.

  “And yet, here you are eating lunch by your-”

  “You’ve said that already.”

  “And you dodged my question.”

  Green sighed, put his sandwich down. “I didn’t dodge your question. I simply didn’t answer it. Mainly on account of the fact that I was focusing all of my energy into trying to make you disappear.”

  “What, like I’m a hallucination?”

  “One can only dream.”

  Ida laughed. “Come on handsome, give a girl something to work with. Not only are you not on the case, but word around the block has it that the case got handed off to the dumbest detective to ever hold a badge.”

  “The L.A.P.D. does not give out detective badges to the unintelligent.”

  “They might if they wanted a big scary goon backing up the more delicate brains. And it ain’t like the L.A.P.D. has always played things on the up-and-up. But fine, allow me to rephrase. If you were in charge of this case, the case of the decade, a murder so fu- so gosh-darned heinous that it made ripples all the way up to the Mayor’s office, wouldn’t you want the top dog coroner on it, no matter how good a doctor the other guy is? And wouldn’t you want an ace case man running the show?”

  “No comment.”

  Ida’s shoulders drooped. She started to slide out of the booth, then slid back in and leaned across the table, lowering her voice. “I’m going to level with you. I’m having some troubles at the workplace and I could use a solid win.”

  Green looked directly at her for the first time. “How bad are your troubles?”

  “Bad enough that I might be looking for another line of work this time next week. So what do you say?”

  “I say take up cooking and find yourself a man.” Green wiped his hands on a napkin and slid out of the booth.

  “Cut me some slack, huh? I could get fired!”

  Green smiled, genuinely this time. “That will be the first time I’ve danced since my wedding.” Off he went.

  “Come on Green! Who gave the order? Why isn’t this case being handled properly?”

  ***

  “Holy shit, you’re Bobby Tree! I mean, you know that. How are you, fella?”

  “Aces. You’re Herbert Fortier?”

  “You know who I am?”

  “You’re the man I came to see.”

  “Well hell, pull up a log.”

  Detective Fortier cleared files off one of the chairs, pulled it up alongside his desk. Bob sat, put his hat on his knee.

  “How’s the gut?”

  “It’ll never be pretty again, but it can still get the job done.”

  “I wanted to go over, you know? But the department here started barking about how many men we were losing and...”

  “I hear you. I figure it’s a war everyday for you guys anyway.”

  “True. I almost caught a couple myself a week or so back.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  Fortier leaned forward. “Oh yeah. We’re running in to nab these goofballs, got rough doing a bank job, they probably heard Schuttman, you know Schuttman? Probably heard him coming up the stairs. Popped off a couple rounds right through the door. I mean... yeah. Yeah. Gives you a new view on life, right?”

  Nightmares. Shakes. Seeing the faces of the men who died beside him reflected in store windows. Bob smiled. “Oh, absolutely.”

  “Give the devil his due, Schuttman got me out of the line of fire. I mean, I probably had it dealt with, but still, maybe the shitheads inside got a lucky one off and no more me. Speaking of which, I would have figured you’d be making nice with Georgie and the Homicide gang instead of slumming it in Robbery.” Fortier shook his head. “That poor girl.”

  “Actually I am here about Sergeant Schuttman, in a way. I understand he was looking into the disappearance of his partner.”

  “Was he?” Fortier leaned back, rubbed his jaw. “I hadn’t heard.”

  “Did he ever talk to you about old robberies?”

  “If there’s an actual investigation about Clemp I don’t know if I should be commenting on it.”

  Bob jerked his thumb back in Homicide’s direction. “Well, that’s just the thing. This dead girl case, I don’t see the good sergeant having much time to follow up on his pal in the near future. So maybe we do him a favour and follow up for him. From the sounds of it you maybe owe him one for saving your life. And there’s the fact that a cop is missing and nobody seems to know why. That bother you? It sure as shootin’ bothers the heck out of me.”

  Fortier drummed a pencil on his desk, thinking it out. Finally he nodded. “How about this? I give you information, you just call me a source in City Hall, don’t use my name, until we know I won’t get any grief about it.”

  “You worried about the brass? Why would your superiors mind you helping to find a missing detective?”

  “Brass? Hell no. I don’t want George Schuttman angry at me for stealing his case.”

  Bob laughed. “Fine. Deal.”

  “So yeah, George came by asking about unsolveds from the past five or so years. Big ones. I didn’t get enough time to ask him what it was all about before he got pulled away.”

  “He was pulled away by A.C. Pointe, right?”

  “Yeah. How’d you know about that?”

  “A source in City Hall.”

  Fortier laughed. “Touché.”

&n
bsp; Bob pulled out his notepad. “So Detective, if you had to make a list of the top ten unsolved Robbery cases in the last five years, what would spring to mind?”

  ***

  George knocked on the door.

  “Enter.”

  George straightened his tie, his hair, checked his shirt front for stains, went in. A.C. Pointe nodded at the chair opposite his desk.

  “Did you get Doc Bader’s M.E. report?”

  “I did. The stuff of nightmares. Where are we on canvassing?”

  “Nothing solid has come in. Tip phones are ringing themselves right off the desks, but it’s like we figured...”

  “The disturbed and the fame-hungry calling in to claim credit?”

  “Yes sir.”

  “Wonderful. How many crank calls have we received so far?”

  “Last I checked, over three hundred.”

  “Good God. That must be a new departmental record.”

  George nodded. “Pretty girl plus that kind of violence. I guess I was expecting it.”

  Pointe tapped his fingertips on his copy of the Medical Examiner report on his desk. “And did you manage to draw any conclusions from the examination?”

  “Nothing beyond what the Doc said. It started savage, got surgical over time.”

  “And your thoughts on why the lungs were removed?”

  “I don’t...” George shook his head. “I’m not sure.”

  “Anything else?”

  “Yes sir. The word cut into her back.”

  “A charming insult after injuries.”

  “I’m thinking we keep it back.”

  “Use it to identify anyone with real information versus the aforementioned disturbed and glory-seekers. Good. Does anyone but you and I know about it?”

  “Doctor Bader, Ray Pinker. Maybe the paramedics who brought her body in. She was on her back at the scene so it was hidden.”

  “Alright then. Check on those paramedics, and tell the others to keep mum. Well done Sergeant, it sounds like we’re on our way.”

  George nodded, got up, left, closing the door behind him, feeling good and light on his feet, feeling like a detective was supposed to feel when they had a handle on a case.