“Good call Bartoni. See,” the captain said, turning to Dan, “You stick with her and you’ll be just as sharp.”
“Gee thanks boss.”
“If it wouldn’t strain you too much, what’s next?”
“Missing persons. Sketch artist is at the morgue as we speak. Waiting for the final autopsy report. Check fingerprints once they lift them. Do a DNA check. Anything else you want to know?”
“I was just asking so Dan would know what you were going to do since I know he isn’t allowed to ask.”
“Oh, that. I thought you forgot what it was like to work a case for a minute.”
“Why don’t you go play in traffic Bartoni,” he replied and walked away shaking his head.
I really did like Captain McGregor. We got along well but we did have this banter thing going on. I know Dan was wondering how I got away with the way I talked to the captain.
I was just about to tell Dan what the next steps were when the phone rang.
“Detective Bartoni.”
“Hey sweet cheeks. You might want to come on over to the lab. We are getting ready to do the vic.”
“Oh no. Dan just got lunch down. Couldn’t you wait a little longer?”
“Gotta get her cause of death. Fingerprints and DNA are on their way to the data base. Slicing and dicing is all that is left.”
“We’re on our way,” I said as I hung up.
“That was the ME’s office. They are ready to autopsy the victim. You don’t have to come. There will be others that come along.”
“No, I should go. I need to see what you look for and the procedure.”
“It’s ugly. Even I get churned up at times.”
“I need to do this.”
“Good. You drive over and I’ll drive back while you throw up out the window.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
“Ah, Detective Bartoni.”
“Doctor Sorenson. I thought Alex was doing the autopsy.”
“He had other business to attend to. He has been acting a little...different lately. I think he is going through a rough patch in his marriage.”
“TMI. Anyway, this is my partner Detective Dan Roberts.”
“Dan. I’m Ben Sorenson, Chief Medical Examiner.”
“Nice to meet you.”
“Well, shall we? Angie, you know where everything is. I’ll meet you in the lab when you’re ready.”
I took Dan to the storage room and got him fitted with a gown and face mask. We both looked pretty silly when we were done. Nothing flattering about this garb.
“You know Doctor Sorenson long?” Dan asked as we were headed to the ‘Slice and Dice’ room.
“Ten years or so. Best damn pathologist in the state in my book.”
“Doesn’t miss much.”
“Doesn’t miss anything. The DA loves to have him on the stand. He is articulate but without trying to impress.”
We entered the room. The first thing that hits you is the smell. Not totally unpleasant but different. The combination of cleaning chemicals, formaldehyde, and disinfectants all blend to give a distinctive odor.
I could see Dan trying to scrunch up his nose. The body of our Jane Doe was on the stainless steel slab with the chest slightly raised. A sheet covered her from her neck to her knees.
“Find everything?”
“No problem.”
“As you can see the prelim work has already been done by George.”
George had been the diener for as long as I had been coming here. He was like a ghost. He was where he should be every second and the pathologist hardly had to move.
“So,” he said, lowering the sheet covering the victim, “She is obviously not a natural blonde. I did the external exam before you came in the interest of time. I can do it again if necessary.”
“No. Let’s just get on with it,” I replied.
I glanced over at Dan and all I could see were eyeballs. He had that ‘deer in the headlights’ look that seemed to be prevalent lately.
“Before I cut her open, look at this,” he said pointing to the same triangle patch Alex and I had seen earlier.
“We noticed that. What is it?”
“I’m not totally sure yet but I suspect it was a puncture wound for some type of drain.”
“Drain?”
“Ah yes, I forgot to mention. She has been exsanguinated.”
“What’s that?” Dan asked meekly.
“Drained of blood. I’ve never seen a puncture wound that large or exactly like that. There are all kinds of drains from gravity to forced suction. This one is different.”
“So someone sucked the blood out of her?”
““It appears that way at present. I think the ligature marks on her ankles were caused while she was hanging upside down.”
“Geez, who would do such a thing?” Dan asked.
“One sick individual,” I replied.
George removed the cloth over the tray holding the autopsy tools. All laid out were the implements used to determine the cause of death. Brain knife, bone saw, skull key, mallet, Stryker saw and various forceps.
I heard Dan gasp when he got a good look at them. It is pretty daunting the first time you see what is used to carve up a dead person. The Stryker saw is evil looking just lying on the tray.
“Do you think a doctor did this?” I asked.
“Possibly, but a mortician or even someone with phlebotomy training could have done this just as easily.”
“Well, that’s just great.”
Doc Sorenson started to make a Y incision and the next thing I heard was a thud. I turned around and Roberts was sitting on the floor, head between his knees. Poor guy had passed out and slid down the wall.
~~
Dan still did not look well as we drove back to the station. I was hungry but decided this wasn’t the time to stop and eat. We had learned little else. Sorenson estimated her age to be early twentys. Whatever was used to drain her blood had pierced her heart. He still couldn’t identify with any certainty what had made the puncture. He would do some research to see if he could find a drain that matched the incision.
“You okay?” I asked Dan as we pulled into the parking lot.
“Ugh.”
“You feel heap bad Injun Dan. No much lik'em autopsy,” I tried to joke.
He was not amused.
CHAPTER EIGHT
LeRoy Gates, Marcus Lane, Dan, and I were all nice and snug in the captain’s office. I was glad to see Farmington hadn’t been invited.
“Boys and girls the Commissioner wants to know the stats of our two high profile murders. Gates. Lane. Where are you guys on the Thompson K&M?” the captain asked
Kidnapping and murder were always high profile. They were always red balls. Jessica Thompson had been kidnapped from her garage and a ransom of five million dollars was demanded. The parents, Doctor Thompson and his lovely wife Jessica, were upper stratosphere in the social circles. Gates and Lane were on the hot seat.
“Boss, we don’t have squat. Every lead has been a dead end. We have no suspects, no physical evidence to speak of and nothing new is shaking,” Lane told him.
“The truck that was recovered?”
“Burnt to a crisp. They got nothing off it.”
“The guy who reported seeing the van?”
“Nothing. I mean he was able to describe the van but that’s all we could get from him.”
The captain leaned back in his chair with his arms folded across his chest. He was not a happy camper but there wasn’t much that could be done about it at the moment.
“You’re still working the streets and CIs?”
“Boss, we have grilled every confidential informant we have and so far we have nothing.”
“Man. Not good. Bartoni, cheer me up.”
“I wish I could. We do know her name now. Alice Harding. She was a student at IUPUI. Her father is a teacher and her mother doesn’t care. She was...’
“Hold it. Back up a second. Her mother doe
sn’t care?”
“No sir. When we contacted her she told us it didn’t matter to her one way or the other. She said that Alice made her choice when she went to live with her big shot father.”
“She isn’t even going to claim the body?”
“Nope.”
“That is one cold woman. So I take it you’re off to IUPUI to see what you can find out.”
“Exactly. Now that we have a name we can start to dig into her background.”
“Then take Roberts and go. Gates and Lane, stay. We have to come up with something I can tell the Commissioner.”
~~
Rain was coming down in buckets. Not like in real buckets. But darned hard and worse, the temperature was dropping like a lead balloon. It would soon turn into sleet or snow.
IUPUI is located just a few blocks from downtown Indianapolis. It’s a combination of Indiana University and Purdue University, the two state supported Universities. Not as big as some Universities it was still the home to over thirty thousand students.
It took me awhile to find the administration building tucked away between Michigan and New York Street. Finding a place to park was a joke unless you wanted to park like a thousand miles away. No way was I going to walk from Timbuktu in this rain. I found a place to wedge the cruiser in and we made a dash for the entrance.
“Is this admissions?”
“That’s what it says.”
“Fine. I’m Detective Bartoni and this is Detective Roberts. I need to speak to someone about a student.”
“Did you have an appointment?”
I looked at her like she was daft. If I had an appointment I would know who I needed to speak to. What a blockhead.
“Obviously not. That’s why we’re here. It concerns a student going to IUPUI.”
“Well, I would need to know who you want to see.”
“Let me put this another way. You have a dead student. We’re cops. We don’t need appointments. Now quit jacking us around and get someone that can help us. Can you comprehend that?” I said.
I hate this kind of bull. People who try to jerk me around find out quickly how nasty I can be.
“Well. Give me a moment,” she said and disappeared to wherever people like her go when they want to escape an unpleasant situation.
“Smooth,” Dan muttered.
I shot him one of my ‘evil eye’ looks and that seemed to shut him up.
It was a good three days before she finally came back. I exaggerate a little. It was maybe five minutes. Okay, two but it seemed longer.
“Mr. Grimes will be with you shortly. You can have a seat over there,” she said pointing to some typical hard plastic chairs.
I guess students didn’t rate good chairs. I was a little shocked to find the exact same well aged magazines that are in my dentist's office here. Baltimore Colts Beat Giants to Win the 1958 Championship Game. Boy, you talk about old magazines. All the rest were about golf.
A short, bald man with a Santa Clause beard came out to greet us a few minutes later. Darn, and I was just getting hooked on the Colts win over the Giants.
“I’m Peter Vogel, Dean of Students. Ms. Todd said something about one of our students being the subject of your investigation?”
“Murder, actually.”
“Oh my. Oh dear. One of our students?”
“That’s what we understand. We need to verify that and to ask some questions about her schedule.”
“Oh my. Oh dear,” he repeated.
“Your office?” I finally suggested since he didn’t seem to know what to do next.
“Yes. Please, this way.”
He led us down a hall and into a fairly spacious office with his name on the door.
“The student’s name is Alice Harding.”
“Alice Harding? Dean Harding’s daughter?”
“I have no way of knowing. Is it his daughter?”
“I..I..I.”
“Spit it out.”
“I certainly hope not. Oh, I don’t mean that like it sounded. You know what I mean. Dean Harding’s daughter? Dead?”
“Please Mr. Vogel, focus. We need to know who Alice Harding is and if she is related to this Dean Harding, we need to talk to him immediately.”
I slid a picture of Alice Harding across his desk. Obviously it was taken before the top of her head had been opened and her brain removed.
“Oh my. Oh dear,” he said yet again.
I was thinking for an educated man, he had a fairly limited vocabulary. I took it from his reaction, that Alice was indeed the daughter of Dean Harding.
“So, it is the Dean’s daughter?”
“I’m afraid so. She looks terrible in this photo but it is her.”
“Dead people tend to not look their best. So she was an actual student here?”
“Yes. The faculty gets a 50% discount on tuition for their dependents. Alice was a Junior. She was taking pre-med courses.”
“Did she live with her father?”
“Oh no. She moved into the on-campus apartments at Riverwalk. They are practically just across the street,” he told us.
“Did she share the apartment?”
“I don’t know for sure. The Dean could tell you that.”
“What about campus security?”
“I’m sorry. I don’t follow,” he replied.
“You do have campus security. Have they had any problems with people hanging around the campus that didn’t belong?” I asked.
“I honestly wouldn’t know. I can arrange for you to meet with Captain Cox. He is head of security.”
“That would be good. If you would call and tell him we are on our way, we will be out of your hair for now. Please, don’t tell Dean Harding yet. We should be the ones to break the news to him.”
“Heavens yes. I certainly don’t want to drop a bomb like that on him.”
“You call and we will be out of your hair,” I said.
~~
Captain Cox was at least six foot four and probably between two hundred and fifty to three hundred pounds. He looked like he should have been playing pro football. He had no neck that I could see. Just a head stuck on shoulders.
“Captain Cox. What’s security like at night around the campus?”
“We usually have five patrol cars cruising around along with six to eight foot patrolmen. We have cameras pretty much everyplace. Some are monitored 24/7 others are motion activated in the more remote areas,” he told us.
“Have you had any problems with outsiders?”
“Well, this is a college campus. Sure we have lots of outsiders all the time. IUPUI is also a research facility so we get lots and lots of non-students. What do you want to know exactly?” he asked.
“Sexual harassment, rape, domestic violence. How much of that do you get?”
He looked up at the ceiling. I could see he was trying to decide how much information to give me and what to keep to himself.
“Captain. We have a dead student from your college. She is the daughter of Dean Harding. We are here to solve the murder, not judge how well you do your job or to point fingers,” I told him.
“We have had some problems. I mean with thirty thousand students you are bound to have some of that stuff. Obviously the college doesn’t want that part to get out. Parents, especially parents of females, won’t send their girls to an unsafe campus.”
“Is it an unsafe campus?” I asked.
“We are located right downtown. Just a few blocks away is one of the most unsavory areas of the city. Bring in a bunch of nineteen to twenty-five year olds and yeah, you have problems. In the last year we have had three reported rapes and twelve attempted assaults of female victims. A couple of girls got beat up by their boyfriends but they refused to press charges. We had one murder on campus last year. A homeless man was found over by the sports complex. Someone had bashed his head in. This is the first murdered student since I’ve been here,” Cox explained.
“The rapes and assaults. Were you able
to find the perps?” I asked.
“One of the rape perps and two of the sexual assault guys were caught. Nothing on the others.”
“We can talk more but I do have a warrant to search Alice Harding’s apartment on the way. Records said she lived in Riverwalk Apartments, 342C. We are going to go over there; you are welcome to come along.”
“Really? Usually you guys just want us to stand around and direct traffic. I would love to see what goes on if you don’t mind.”
“No problem at all.”
See, I can be nice when I want to.
CHAPTER NINE
“Pretty darn nice,” Dan said when we entered Alice’s apartment.
“This is one of the better units. Most are not quite this nice or this big. This was really meant for two to three students but being a Dean seemed to give him a little extra juice.”
“It would seem so. Do you have gloves?” I asked.
“You mean like rubber ones?”
“Like rubber ones,” I replied.
“No.”
I handed him two pair from my stash.
“You probably can’t get them over your big mitts so you will just have to use them like a hankie.”
“A hankie,” he said, snorting through his nose.
“What?”
“Just the way you said it. Me and a hankie. Somehow that doesn’t work in my mind.”
I laughed too. He was right. A big old lug like him holding a hankie was pretty funny.
“Dan you start in the kitchen. The captain and I will take the bedroom.”
We pulled drawers, went through clothes, lifted the mattress and checked all the nooks and crannies. We found little that would help us. She had some really nice clothes and lots of great shoes. She had one handbag tossed in the corner that I would have killed for. Oops, bad choice of words.
We went from room to room. We found a diary but rather than stand there reading it, I bagged it. Her laptop computer was sitting on her desk. We bagged that as well. She had an inordinate amount of prescription drugs I thought but maybe she was one of those hypochondriacs. We bagged them all as well.
“You notice anything missing?” I asked as we were wrapping up.
FROSTBITE -Angie Bartoni Case File #2 (Detective Angie Bartoni Case Files Book 1) Page 3
