Cold Justice

by Rayven T. Hill

  The boys were tiring out and needed a rest. Matty skillfully kicked the ball, spinning it through the air, up onto the deck. He followed behind it, trudging up the steps. Kyle trailed, and they flopped, panting, into a couple of lawn chairs beside Jake.

  “Hey Dad.”

  “Hi, Mr. Lincoln.”

  “Hi guys,” Jake said, and then to Kyle, “Your footwork is starting to look pretty good.”

  Kyle grinned. “Matty’s a good teacher.”

  “Keep at it, and you’ll both be stars.”

  The boys laughed. Kyle gave Matty a shove and said, “Matty’s already a star.”

  Matty tapped Kyle playfully on the head. “I’ll make you a star too. We’ll show everybody how it’s done.”

  Jake grinned at them, and then asked, “So guys, how did it go at school today? Did that Jordan kid give you any more headaches?”

  Matty laughed. “I think he learned his lesson Dad. He wouldn’t come near us today. At lunch break, I saw him standing across the yard with a couple of other guys, watching Kyle and I, but he stayed plenty far enough away.”

  “Kyle and me.”

  “What?”

  “Kyle and me. You have to say, Kyle and me. Not Kyle and I.”

  Matty gave his father a funny look. “You’re starting to sound like Mom.”

  Jake laughed. “Is that such a bad thing?”

  Matty shrugged. “Guess not,” he said, and then, “You know I had to slug Kevin, right Dad?”

  Jake thought a minute before speaking carefully. “Sometimes there are other ways.”

  “Not this time. We tried other ways. We tried to just talk to him, but sometimes talk isn’t enough. You know what Grandpa says, actions speak louder than words.”

  “Yeah, a lot of people say that,” Jake admitted. “And I guess it’s true sometimes.”

  Jake knew it first hand. In his pre-teen days he had been fairly small, was picked on at times, and forced to defend himself physically. He had endured a bit of torture from some of the bigger boys, but as he hit his teen years, he began to sprout like a weed, and they stopped bothering him. He didn’t seek revenge on his tormentors, and actually became good friends with a couple of them eventually.

  Jake added, “But just try to do whatever you can to avoid fighting in the future, ok guys?”

  “Sure, Dad. But what if he starts bugging Kyle again, and I’m not there?” Matty asked.

  Kyle looked at Matty. “Don’t worry Matt, I’ll just warn him I will tell you. He won’t do anything.” Kyle grinned. “He’s scared of you now.”

  Matty looked at Kyle, nodded slowly, and said seriously, “Yeah, I guess you’re right, but I don’t want him to be afraid of me. Just respect us and leave us alone.”

  Jake listened to the wise words from his eight-year-old son and felt even prouder.

  Annie had returned home from her visit with Chrissy. She stepped out onto the deck, sipping a coffee. “What are you guys talking about?” she asked.

  Jake looked up. “Just asking them how their day was. Matty said the Jordan kid is staying away from them now.”

  Annie looked at the boys. “Just be careful in the future, ok?”

  “Yes, Mom. Dad already lectured us,” Matty said, as he turned to Kyle and slugged him on the arm. “Come on Kyle, let’s go.” He jumped up, retrieved the soccer ball, and hit the lawn with a leap. Kyle stopped long enough to mash a spider, and then was right behind him.

  Annie sat in a deck chair and watched the boys for a moment before turning to Jake. “I’ve been thinking about Philip Macy,” she said. “He must be going through such a terrible time. First he loses a child, and now his wife.” She sighed. “What’s the poor man going to do?”

  Jake thought of his own family. Of Matty, and Annie. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like to lose them both, or even one of them. He shook his head slowly and looked at his wife. He could tell she knew his thoughts, and was probably thinking the same as him. “Yeah,” he said, and sighed before adding, “It must be rough.”

  They were quiet for a moment, each with their own thoughts. Finally Annie spoke, “We have to find out what happened to Abigail Macy. Philip needs to know. If he’s left hanging, it will drive him crazy for the rest of his life.”

  “Like they say, he needs closure.” He shrugged. “I don’t know what on earth closure is. Nothing’s going to bring her back, but at least he needs to know why, and how.”

  “And who,” Annie added.

  Jake looked at her and cocked his head.

  “Who,” she said. “He needs to know who killed her.”

  “Yeah. That’s the big question.”

  Jake’s iPhone buzzed. He kept it in a holder on his belt now. A new purchase he found was a lot easier to use. He slipped it from the holder.

  “Jake here.”

  “Jake, it’s Hank. I just got a call. It looks like they found Vera Blackley. She’s dead. I’m on my way to the scene now. Apparently a homeless guy found her in a bin behind Proper Shoes.”

  Jake whistled and looked at Annie. “It’s Hank. They found Vera Blackley.” Then he whispered, “Dead.”

  Annie leaned forward as Jake put the phone on speaker.

  Hank continued, “I haven’t talked to the homeless guy yet. I thought you might want to be here when I take his statement. You know where Proper Shoes is, right?”

  “Yup, we were just there a couple of hours ago.”

  “Go behind the building, in the service area.”

  Jake and Annie were standing now.

  “We’ll be right there,” Jake said, as he hung up and slipped the phone back in its holder.

  Annie reached out. “I need your phone for a second.”

  Jake handed it to her. Annie dialed. One ring. Two.

  “Hello?”

  “Chrissy, it’s Annie. Can you watch Matty for a while? Jake and I have a bit of an emergency.”

  “Sure. What kind of emergency?”

  “Remember I told you about Vera Blackley? They just found her body.”

  “Ohhh. Sounds exciting.”

  Annie laughed and scolded her gently. “Chrissy, a woman is dead.”

  “Yeah, I know,” Chrissy said meekly, and then, “Send the boys over.”

  Annie hung up the phone and handed it back. She looked toward the yard and called, “Matty, come here a minute please.”

  Matty gave the ball a final kick across the yard, and ran toward the deck. “What is it, Mom?”

  “Your dad and I have to go out for a while. Can you guys run next door until we get back? Let Chrissy know you’re there.”

  “Sure Mom,” Matty said, as they sprinted across the lawn, squeezed through the hedge, and ran into the back entrance of the house next door.

  Jake gulped the rest of his coffee and set the cup on the table. “Ready?” he asked.

  “Ready.”

  Chapter 24

  Thursday, August 18th, 5:15 PM

  WHEN HANK pulled into the parking lot at the rear of the building that housed Proper Shoes, the first responders, as well as the crime scene investigators, had already arrived. He pulled up next to the forensic van and climbed out. Officers were stretching yellow tape around the area, and investigators were busy.

  A group of four or five bystanders were watching from a distance, undoubtedly curious.

  Hank saw the lead crime scene investigator, Rod Jameson, standing back a distance from the big green bin that was the center of attention. He was busy giving orders, making sure the area was secure. Jameson looked at Hank as he approached and nodded. “Afternoon, Hank.”

  “Hey Rod, what can you tell me about this one?” Hank asked.

  “The body has been here a while,” Jameson answered. He pointed over to the side, behind the tape, where a man was sitting on a crate, watching proceedings. “That’s Sammy Fisher. I asked him to stick around for a while. He’s the one who discovered the body. You may want to talk to him.”

  Hank glanced over brief
ly and nodded, and then asked, “How do you know it’s Vera Blackley? Is there some ID on the body?”

  “Nope. Apparently, the place wasn’t deserted yet. There were still a couple of people inside the building, and I showed them a photo of her face I snapped on my cell. One of them recognized her as Vera Blackley, the wife of one of the people who works here.” He consulted a clipboard. “Anderson Blackley, the husband.”

  Hank thanked him, and moved in a little closer to the bin. An unpleasant odor hit him. A police photographer had climbed up onto the bin and was snapping pictures. Evidence markers had been placed in a few spots around the bin, marking items that may be of interest.

  The medical examiner, Nancy Pietek, had just arrived. Hank watched as she approached the bin and talked to the photographer who now seemed to have taken all the pictures he needed. He jumped down and helped her climb the bin, and she dropped carefully inside.

  Hank turned as he heard the rumble of a familiar car approaching. It was Jake’s Firebird. He grinned as he saw the car. He dipped under the yellow tape, which officers had finished putting in place, and approached the vehicle. Jake and Annie climbed out and came toward him.

  Jake slapped him on the back. “What’s up, Hank.”

  “Hey Jake,” Hank said, and then looked at Annie and smiled hello, before pointing to the bin. “She’s in there.”

  Jake followed his gaze and whistled. “Thrown away, just like trash.”

  The M.E. was being helped from the bin. Jake and Annie followed Hank as he walked back to the taped off area and motioned her over.

  Nancy Pietek gave a wave of recognition and came to where they were standing. She smiled grimly. “I didn’t expect to see you again so soon, Hank.”

  “Hi Nancy,” he said. “It’s always nice to see you.”

  She greeted Jake and Annie and turned back to Hank. “Looks like she was strangled. The body is almost naked, so there may have been a rape, or some other sexual abuse involved. I’ll know more after I do a complete examination, but right now, I’d say the cause of death is definitely asphyxia caused by strangulation.”

  “How long has she been dead?” Hank asked.

  Nancy thought a moment. “I’d say about four days at the most.”

  Hank did the math. “That would make it Sunday,” he said, and then asked, “Any defensive wounds?”

  “Sure is. Not hard to see, considering the lack of clothing. It won’t take me too long to do the report once they get her back to the lab. Things aren’t so busy right now, fortunately.”

  Hank heard the crunching of tires on gravel. He turned and frowned, and shook his head in disgust as he saw the van for Channel 7 Action News pull up. The local newspapers and TV stations monitored the police bands, and were always quick to respond to anything sensational that would boost their ratings. Channel 7 was the first to arrive.

  The van screeched to a quick stop near where they were standing. The doors opened. The driver jumped out, slipped open the side door, and in a moment reappeared with a camera. He slung it on his shoulder and chased after the passenger, a woman, who had already shot from the van and was heading toward Hank.

  Hank knew exactly who she was. Lisa Krunk considered herself to be a world-class reporter, destined some day to win a Pulitzer. But Hank knew better. They had had some recent run-ins with her, and he knew her as someone who would do just about anything to get a story.

  “Come on Don,” Lisa Krunk said, beckoning impatiently at the cameraman.

  Don hustled behind her, flicking his camera on. A red light glowed, and the camera was aimed toward the action around the bin, panning, zooming, humming.

  Nancy saw them coming. She knew Lisa Krunk well, and she spun around and left in a hurry, back to the crime scene.

  Lisa reached Hank and shoved a microphone at him. The camera swung his way. Lisa said, “Detective Corning, I understand the body of a woman was found here.” Her extra wide mouth flapped as she continued, “What can you tell me about this situation?”

  The city would see this, so Hank had to hold back his disdain for Lisa. “We don’t know much at this point,” he said politely, and pointed toward the bin. “The body of a woman was reported to have been found in that bin. We don’t know any more, as the investigators are still working the scene.”

  “Do you know who the woman is?”

  “Not at this point.” Hank wasn’t about to release the name of the victim until they were certain who it was, and her husband, Anderson Blackley, had been notified.

  “Was it a murder?”

  “We think so, but that hasn’t been determined for certain yet.”

  “Can you tell the viewers anything else?”

  “No. Nothing more at this point.”

  The microphone was withdrawn, and poked at Annie. The camera followed. “Annie Lincoln,” Lisa said. “We know you and your husband are private investigators. Can you tell us why you are here?”

  Annie hesitated. “All I can say is this may be related to something we are currently involved in.”

  Lisa Krunk looked down her thin, sharp nose. “Did you know the victim?”

  Annie shook her head. “The victim hasn’t been identified yet.”

  The coroner’s van was backed up close to the bin. The back doors were open and a gurney was being removed from the vehicle, ready to be put to use.

  Lisa pulled he microphone back and pointed to the bin. Don swiveled and the camera zoomed to catch the action.

  They watched as two officers climbed inside the bin, and with some difficulty, were able to hoist the body out. It was placed on the gurney, maneuvered into a body bag, and rolled to the waiting doors of the van. The gurney was slipped inside, and the doors slammed.

  Nancy Pietek climbed into the passenger’s side. The camera watched as the vehicle pulled away, out of sight.

  “Come on, Don.” Lisa hurried over to the group of people that were watching. Don clicked off the camera and chased behind.

  Hank looked at Annie and shook his head. Annie rolled her eyes. “That woman is a pain,” she said.

  Hank laughed. “You got that right.” He looked over to where Sammy Fisher was sitting, still watching. Better not keep him waiting too long. Hopefully Lisa doesn’t get to him.

  The bin was being emptied now. Everything was carefully bagged and loaded into the forensics van. It would all be taken back to the lab and gone over meticulously.

  The items on the ground around the bin the evidence markers were guarding, were bagged, and marked as well. Nothing was missed.

  Time to interview Sammy Fisher, but first, a phone call.

  Hank hit speed dial one and waited.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi, Amelia.”

  The voice on the other end brightened. He could hear the smile as she said, “Hi, Hank. We’re waiting for you here.”

  Hank hesitated. Amelia had been a victim in a recent case he had worked on with Jake and Annie. They had become much more than friends since then. She knew he was a cop, of course, and his work sometimes demanded odd hours, and forced him to be on call any time, night or day.

  “I’m so sorry, Darling,” he said. “I may be a little late. I have a situation here.”

  “We’ll wait for you. I’ll keep dinner in the oven. Do you know how long you might be?”

  Hank thought a moment. “A couple of hours at the most.”

  They said goodbye and Hank hung up.

  “It’s good to see you found someone that will put up with you,” Jake said.

  Hank laughed. “She’s a keeper,” he said as he turned and glanced at Sammy. He beckoned to Jake and Annie. “It’s time to talk to Fisher.”

  Sammy stood as they approached. “Sammy Fisher?” Hank asked.

  Sammy nodded. “Yup.” He bowed slightly toward Annie and touched his cap. “Good day, ma’am.”

  Hank introduced them and offered his hand. Sammy shook it furiously. He had a good firm grip. Hank studied him a moment, his tattered clothe
s, worn-out cap, big bushy beard, but clear, almost beautiful blue eyes. A rough looking character, but immediately likeable.

  “Sorry to keep you waiting,” Hank said.

  “That’s ok.” He beckoned toward the bin. “I know you’re busy, and I have nothing better to do anyway. And please call me Sammy.” Hank noticed he was well spoken despite his rough exterior.

  “Let’s go around the corner here,” Hank said. He wanted to be out of sight of Lisa Krunk. She would be sure to interfere if she saw them talking to Sammy.

  They walked around the corner of the building and stopped.

  Hank turned to Sammy. “I understand you are the one who found the body and called it in?”

  “Yes, I did. I ran to a pay phone as soon as I saw it. It took half of my current life savings to make the call.” He laughed. “But that’s ok.”

  Hank smiled, then, “Tell me how you came about discovering the body.”

  Sammy glanced briefly at the sky a moment before speaking. “I was just gathering up my daily necessities.” He pointed down the row to the green bin by the restaurant. “Down there. And I checked a couple of the other bins. You never know what you might find. Anyway, when I got over to that one.” He nodded toward the taped off area and wrinkled his nose. “Well, I was going to pass it by, until I caught a whiff. So I climbed up and looked inside, and voila.”

  “I assume you didn’t go in the bin?”

  Sammy frowned. “Not a chance.”

  “Or touch anything inside?”

  “Nope.”

  “Did you see anyone around at the time?”

  “No, I think everything was closed up by then, and I didn’t see anybody at all.”

  Hank reached into his pocket and pulled out a small roll of bills. He peeled off a twenty and handed it to Sammy. “Here’s for your trouble,” he said.

  Sammy held up his hands in protest. “Uh uh. No thanks. I don’t need to get paid for doing the right thing.”

  “Take it anyway,” Hank urged.

  Sammy stuffed his hands in his pockets and shook his head.

  Hank put the bill away and retrieved a business card and a single dollar. “All right then, here’s my card and enough money for a call if you think of anything else. You can take that much, right?”