Sqeeze Head

by Waggoner, Robert C.

  Janice held back as she knew David would want no distraction for his observations of the victim. She wished she had his ability to feel the scene, rather than observe, or just see the crime scene. He never said much at the beginning, but later on what he had felt, came bubbling to the surface in bits and pieces. When he finished it was her turn. David went from one security camera to another stopping and looking at each one. He seemed infatuated over the placement of the cameras. The same uniform policeman followed him like a puppy dog. David turned to him saying something, which a busy Janice, or anyone else never heard him speak. The uniform ran out of the parking lot as if on an important mission. Later Janice would discover the errand he sent the uniform policeman on, the blueprints of the building, and the measurements and location of each security camera.

  *~~~~~~*

  Dr. Jones and his companion Alex were watching the six o'clock news, along with having a glass of white wine. Both witnessed the report on a murder that happened in the afternoon, not so far away from their building. Few details were forthcoming, as the police declined any comment. AJ wondered who had been murdered, and if David Cockrun was handling the case.

  Alex broke his thoughts and said, "That's hitting awful close to home AJ. I'd best make sure we are secure each and every minute of the day. Damn, I feel as if I'm back in the jungle, wondering where the bad guys are. I'll tell you something and that's those underground parking garages lack proper lighting and security. Maybe the eleven o'clock news will shed some more light on the murder."

  AJ said, "I only know of one business there. He's not a close acquaintance but he has a fine reputation as a leading psychiatrist in the area of marriage counseling. His method of treatment is through mental health as the root cause of a relationship. Well, never mind Alex. What's for dinner tonight?"

  "I've a roast in the oven and dinner is precisely at seven Dr. Jones."

  *~~~~~*

  Back at homicide in their situation room, David sat in a swivel chair with his legs sticking straight out in front of him. Janice was at the white board writing with a board marker, the personal information of the victim. The findings were indeed that of a granddaughter of the chewing gum family, Wrigley. Her name was Lydsie Longstreet. She was the wife of Donald Longstreet. His firm was, Longstreet, Abel and Burns. It was a firm prominent in the Chicago area.

  Other personal information revealed she was thirty four years old, no children, and ran in the social circles of the rich and famous. This murder would stir the very foundations of the Windy City. Already the heat was on as the captain stuck his head in the room, locking eyes with Inspector Cockrun, but never said a word. He did not have to say what a political mess this was going to be. It was not long before every homicide detective, and others were entering the situation room, awaiting Inspector Cockrun's orders or assignments.

  In Cockrun's mind two things were vital to the case. One was the security cameras and the type of murder weapon that was used. That tape was center and would need some technician to enhance the film for viewing in that dark parking area. The uniform policeman had been prompt with a set of blueprints, which noted the location of the security cameras. Both David and Janice were impressed with this uniform policeman's sense of duty. David decided to keep him around and noted his name on his uniform: Officer D. Bloom.

  David said to Officer Bloom, "I don't know who you report to, but inform that superior officer that you now work for me. If that officer has a problem with that, tell him or her to see the captain." A white toothy smile spread across Bloom's face, as he turned on his heels and fled the room.

  The next thing he did was tell Janice to put some folks on the video tape, and to have it ready to view by ten pm. They both knew the press would be hounding the captain for the eleven pm news. It went unsaid that they needed something to feed the press, to take the heat off for just a little while.

  David gave another fleeting thought to Dr. Jones. He really felt there was more to this murder than a vendetta against Ms. Longstreet. First, why was she there at that building at that time of day? Furthermore it was difficult for a socialite to go about without being recognized. Could it be blackmail? He made a mental note to have Donald Longfellow's financial report soonest. It was rhetorical to say the least that she, the victim, knew the killer. Jones, he thought, could be a great help in this case.

  AJ and Alex were watching the start of the eleven o'clock news. When after the report, the crime was named, The Highland Park Murder. Yes, indeed it was revealed she was the granddaughter of the Wrigley family. Both AJ and Alex gave a gasp in surprise. Alex said, "Man the shit will hit the fan now. I feel sorry for the homicide detectives, as the press will be like piranhas' on their butts. I think we should take a vacation for awhile, until the smoke clears from this one. God have mercy on our local police force."

  "Amen to that," said AJ. "We must avoid the press at all cost my friend. As soon as it's known we live here, practically next door, my reputation will precede an onslaught of press. I can reveal to you Alex that the patient I had today is probably heading up the murder investigation. If I'm not mistaken, we will have him for a visitor before too long."

  III

  "You haven't got shit Inspector. What am I to tell the press? I know buried in that brain of yours there is a glimmer of an idea, so I'm asking you to give me something to feed the press," the captain said with obvious stress on his face. He was spinning circles around his desk he was so nervous. David was glad it was he direct to the mayor and not him.

  "Tell them this captain. We have a person of interest from the video tapes. In a sense it's true, but the tapes are so vague that we can only hope an expert can sharpen them up."

  "Okay Inspector, now what can I do to help expedite the investigation?"

  "The autopsy is vital and will take place first thing in the morning. Actually captain, we need some help from someplace as this will be a tough nut to crack. Every person in that building is a suspect. We are doing what needs to be done captain. If, and I say if, we catch a break, that will help us wrap thus up much quicker. My team will work until midnight and then be back on the job at six am when the autopsy begins.”

  Janice was beginning to fade. She had run the course of caffeine. Now her body cried for rest, but as heavy as her eyelids were, no sleep was forthcoming for a few more hours. She sat in the situation room staring at the white board. Her arms folded across her chest, legs straight out with ankles crossed. Soon her chin hit her chest. From somewhere a familiar voice was talking to her, but she could not find the opening to the source. Then she felt her shoulder being shaken and she heard, “Janice, go home. You are no good to anyone if you don’t take a break. Come back at six am,” David said with compassion in his demeanor.

  She looked up at him, grinned and with discretion gave him the finger. Janice looked at her watch saw it near midnight. She went to her office, put on her wind breaker jacket that had the logo of her police department above her left breast. Next she took a post it and left David a short note: a personal smiley.

  Inspector Cockrun was the only person left in the situation room. He had no plan to go to his dreary apartment. There was a single bed in a back room along with a shower area. Everyone knew he would sleep at the station that night. All were cognizant of the fact he had more clothes at the station than at his apartment. As Levi blue jeans or Dockers were his pants of choice, a large closet held all his needs, including dress shirts. His jackets or coats were mostly sport coats, with patches on the elbows, as if to denote a university professor.

  Now he stood studying the white board thinking about the case. He did not like to form conclusions as he would rather let the facts dictate the results. He decided to hit the rack and get up early for a fresh look.

  *~~~~~*

  Dr. Jones was burning the midnight oil. He had the notion that Dr. Zee was somehow connected with the case of the sudden murder of Ms. Longstreet. Why he thought that, he could not answer that question. It was not unusual f
or a lot of people to think that a psychiatrist was just as off center as their patients.

  In his lap sat a bio on Dr. Zee from when he was born, up and concluding with last year. He was forty four years old; legally separated by not divorced. No offspring. Ivy League educated. He had rich parents that were well connected by the sounds of it. He read that he was a member of an exclusive men’s club, and other medical associations’. It did not say where he lived but that would not be hard to find out. AJ, closed the book, levered up the Lazy Boy recliners foot rest, closed his eyes, and went to sleep, with the standup reading light burning bright.

  IV

  The morgue was a stone's throw away from the police station. It sat back behind so as to hide its whereabouts. Needless to say, the Arlington Heights Morgue was not on any tourists must see list. Inspector Cockrun was pacing in front of the entrance when Dr. Glitter drove up in his minivan. As it was still dark at five thirty in the morning, David watched him turn off the lights, open the door, lean back over the driver’s seat to fetch his black bag, shut and lock the door with a big sigh. He walked rather bowlegged towards the entrance without an expression on his face. Both men knew it would be a long, long day.

  From his snap lock key ring that was fastened to a belt loop, Dr. Glitter opened the front door letting the Inspector pass through first. David followed the Doctor to his office. He was always impressed to see the Doctor’s office neat and clean as a pin. There was nothing out of place, either on the bookshelves, or on his desk. After hanging his jacket up on a hanger, he said, “Let’s go get a cup of coffee David. My assistants will arrive shortly and then we must wait while they prepare the body for an autopsy. I know you are under the gun, so I will tell you I did take a look at the wound last night.

  David’s interest piqued. This was a nice tad bit of information. He looked at the back of Dr. Glitter as he prepared the coffee. The old doctor’s shoulders were hunched over from too many years bent over the stainless steel table. David envied the old man for his endurance. He looked in good shape and what David did not know; the doctor did an hour on the treadmill every morning before a shower.

  After pouring two mugs of coffee, he sat down across from David at the table, where the staff had their breaks and lunch. David noticed a twinkle in the old doctor’s eye, as he said, “I’m going out on a limb here inspector. I think the murder weapon is a fish fillet knife. There was damn little blood loss. Unless I miss my guess, it was a perfect thrust through the ribs and up into the heart. If the knife went through the heart and up into the throat area, that would mean a long slim knife. Now that is all I’ll say for the moment,” as he took a big swallow of his coffee. The chill of the kitchen soon made hot coffee tepid.

  As they sat in silence, two assistants came in with a bleary eyed mumble of a good morning; much desiring a caffeine hit. Dr. Glitter nodded a good morning and then rose to go to his office. His office had a private shower and toilet. He would put on his work clothes for the job ahead of him. On a busy day he would change more than once his work clothes.

  David sat thinking as his partner Janice came in looking fresh as a daisy. She had amazing recuperative powers. He knew full well she worked out as much or more than he did to stay in shape. She went directly for the coffee pot. When she went past him he caught a whiff of her usual scent. After about a year of wondering what the scent was, he finally pinned it down on fresh pine tree aroma.

  Janice sat down and looked at him over her cup of coffee she was sipping from. He said, “And a good morning to you too.” She blinked at him and then sat her cup down. David saw she had the beginning of some lines spreading out from her dark eyes. She refrained from much makeup, he liked that about her. She recently had her hair cut to a much shorter length than before. A marked improvement in her maturity he thought. Then it occurred to him that under different circumstances maybe he could have a wonderful relationship with her. If the truth were known, she was thinking the exact same thing. Both of them were human and had the same wants and desires of most of the population. It was probably fortuitous that Dr. Glitter popped in saying it was game time.

  Ms. Longstreet was the center attraction on that Friday morning. The two assistants had the body ready to go with all of the necessary tools for the job. Dr. Glitter, a staunch catholic, crossed himself as he prepared to begin the autopsy. All present respected the doctor’s religious views, as he lowered his chin to his chest saying a prayer over the body. He slowly pulled down the green cotton sheet covering to just above the waist.

  Ms. Longstreet even in death was a pretty woman. All realized she was a social elite, but that really did not enter into the minds of the professionals who were about to do their best job. Sad was the case dignity leaves the body as does its soul.

  More than one video camera was operating under the glare of bright lights. A microphone would record all of the ME words for the record.

  Before he began, he looked up at David and Janice with a fleeting look of sorrow in his compassionate eyes. Then he went to work doing what he did best.

  Not long after the autopsy began, in walked the captain. About an hour later Dr. Glitter looked directly at David, nodded his head to affirm their earlier discussion about the murder weapon. Later he would have the precise measurements, but for now that was enough for both David and Janice to return to the situation room.

  *~~~~*

  Dr. Jones woke up with a kink in his back from sleeping in his recliner all night. Usually Alex made a check of the house around two or three in the morning, but apparently he slept the night through. The light was still on, but the morning had begun. AJ put the book on the side table, lowered the recliner to rocking position, grunted a little, and got up stiffly. AJ made no bones about his age, expressing his efforts, caring less if anyone heard him adjusting to either a walking mode or sitting mode. Forty five minutes later, after a hot shower he smelled the wonderful aroma of coffee from the kitchen.

  Alex had the kitchen TV on with the morning seven am news. The follow up news to the murder was the interview with the husband and a word from the Wrigley family’s attorney. Both reports were vociferous in the loss of one so young and with such a bright future. The usual banter of a weak police force, with crazies running around loose, made most people shudder. Murder crossed all lines of social strata. For Americans the most shocking murders in history were both Lincoln and Kennedy. And that was replaced by the terrorist attack on 9/11. Few realized how hard the police worked to solve a crime. There was only one person who knew all the facts of a murder: the perpetrator.

  Additionally only a select few appreciated the likes of Inspector Cockrun and his partner Janice. They had an excellent success rate. Both AJ and Alex were surprised when the reporter complemented the two detectives on solving homicide cases.

  AJ said, "What's for breakfast Alex?"

  "The usual," said Alex. He sat a box of Special K on the L shaped counter. Opened the refer, took out the milk and OJ. Dr. Jones poured a mug full of coffee from the drip pot. The window to his left gave off a view opposite of the living room. As far as the eye could see it was houses and buildings. AJ did not like to look at that sorry sight, so he looked at their kitchen with pride. Alex had taken a hankering for cooking, much to AJs delight. Alex, years ago, went to cooking school as part of his therapy. When they moved into the penthouse, AJ had the kitchen remodeled to suit Alex. It was a rare occasion when AJ ventured behind the counter he was now sitting at. The cooking and prep area was scared ground as far as Alex was concerned. AJ respected his territory while the reverse was true. AJ said, while munching on his cereal, "I'm going to call Jake our attorney and see if he can stop by for lunch today. I need some information from him so what do you say to a guest for lunch Alex?"

  "You know me AJ, the more the merrier. I'll whip up something special for you guys. We are nearing St. Pat's day so maybe an Irish dish is called for."

  *~~~~*

  Back at the police station, in the situation room, a flu
rry of activity was taking place. Inspector Cockrun was informed that the security tape had been taken to the University of Chicago for analyzing. There was no time given when the task would be completed. David was beginning to lose hope that the tape would be able to ID the perp. Janice was overseeing the interviewing of the buildings tenants. David was sitting in usual office chair rubbing his temple expecting the headache to respond to his touch. He reached for his cell to call Janice to set up an interview with the husband Donald Longstreet. He dreaded the interview, but it must happen this morning before the press stoked the lawyer's ego. This was the perfect time for him to advertise his law firm for free.

  Janice flipped open her cell on the second ring after identifying the caller. She listened and said, “I’ll call you back later. We’re doing well here floor by floor. I’m not leaving one door closed, no matter the unlikely hood of the victim visiting, say a telemarketing outfit. My gut tells me she was meeting either a non-profit agency or a counseling service, like a shrink. I’ve noticed there’re three non-profits and two suites of head doctors. After I confirm out interview with the husband, I’ll return here to personally interview the non-profit agencies.” She left the door open for him to interview the head doctors. He would tell her later about that end of things.

  David was deep on thought when someone nudged him, alerting him that the captain wanted his attention. He looked up and saw the captain give him a head nod to come to his office. David stood up, stretched, felt his stomach growl, wondering when the last time he ate, and walked out the door following the beleaguered captain. He knew exactly how the captain felt. Soon the heat would be on his team. One thing that he was afraid of was the FBI would become involved, using some pretext derived from the political side of things.