The Reluctant Coroner

by Paul Austin Ardoin

  “Yes, ma’am. Protocol.”

  Dez tapped her temple as the answer came to her. “Ah. You’re new, and you and Fenway are probably the only two people in the whole City Hall complex who don’t have a file in there.”

  “That’s what my boss told me, ma’am.”

  “Awesome,” Fenway said. “Officer, do you have a cell phone that can video record this?”

  “Well, I have a personal cell phone, but I’m not supposed to use it for police business.”

  “Righty-oh,” Fenway said, snapping the wrists of her gloves. “Okay, I’ll get down to work.”

  Fenway started searching for evidence in Walker’s office. She looked for signs of forced entry on the door and door jamb, the locked filing cabinets, and then the locked drawers. She took pictures, although with no suspicious marks on the door, drawers, or cabinets, she wasn’t sure exactly what the pictures were supposed to show. She went down on the floor and searched for hairs, or fibers, or anything that looked unusual or out of place. She didn’t find anything.

  “Anyone know where his laptop is?” she called out. She saw a docking station for it, and a monitor, but no laptop.

  “I haven’t heard,” Dez said from outside the office.

  “How about his car?”

  “I don’t think that’s shown up yet,” Migs said. “Do you maybe want to fingerprint the docking station in case someone popped it out and stole it?”

  Fenway nodded. “Yeah, that’s a good idea. Thanks, Migs.”

  Migs brought Fenway the fingerprint kit and handed it to her through the door. She dusted and lifted, the process for capturing prints. She was sure, that by usual standards, she took a long time doing it, but because it was her first time lifting fingerprints outside of a classroom, she wanted to be sure it was done right.

  “You’ll let me know if you see any legal issues with anything I’m doing, right, Migs?”

  “Sure, Fenway. I think you’re fine.”

  She called over her shoulder again, “Dez, did Walker usually leave his laptop in here nights and weekends, or did he take it home with him?”

  “We’re not supposed to leave laptops here,” Dez said.

  Fenway looked up at her. “That’s not really what I asked.”

  Dez smiled. “Migs is the one who’s always coming at me with the lawyer doublespeak. Don’t tell me it’s you, too. Okay, fine. He left it here some nights. Especially if he wasn’t going straight home. But not always.”

  “Most of the time?”

  She shrugged. “I didn’t really pay attention. I know he took it home some nights, I know he left it docked other nights.”

  “Okay. Anyone have keys to the file cabinets?”

  “They’re in the evidence room,” the officer said.

  “Can you go get them?”

  “You’ll have to leave the room and I’ll have to lock up again, ma’am.”

  Fenway’s shoulders slumped. “Can someone else get the keys from the evidence room?”

  “My lieutenant was pretty clear that I was responsible for everything pertaining to this office, ma’am.”

  Fenway cringed a little every time the officer called her ma’am. “Okay, fine.” She looked at her watch. “Can you meet me back here at a quarter after five? I’ll have to tell the sheriff he won’t need to give me a ride at five.”

  “Um…”

  “What is it, Officer?”

  “I’m sorry, ma’am, it’s just that I don’t report to you, and only my supervisor can authorize overtime, and I’ll hit eight hours at five o’clock.”

  Fenway folded her arms and weighed her options. She didn’t want to be seen as someone who didn’t put the coroner’s investigation as top priority, but she also didn’t want to get into a pissing match with another department to spend their overtime budget on her concerns. She finally concluded that no one had expected her appointment to get fast-tracked, and certainly no one expected her to start the investigation today; she figured she was probably a day or two ahead of where anyone would expect her to be. That made her decision easier.

  “Well, then, Officer, can you meet me here tomorrow at eight with the keys for both the door and the file cabinets, and whatever other keys you have for stuff inside that office?”

  “Yes ma’am.”

  She smiled at him. “Perfect. Thank you.”

  Fenway, Dez, Migs, and the officer all extricated themselves from Walker’s office and the area around it. The officer thanked Fenway before he left. She took the gloves off, returned everything to the supply closet, and sat down at her temporary desk.

  Rachel had been watching everyone, although she hadn’t gotten up from her seat. “Interesting first day.”

  Fenway exhaled. “Yep. I have a feeling I won’t have too many dull moments in the next few weeks.”

  At five after the hour, the door opened and McVie walked in.

  “Hey, Fenway,” he said. “How was your first day?”

  “Fine,” she said, getting up and grabbing her purse. “I almost drowned from all the HR paperwork.”

  He smiled sympathetically. “Yeah. Lots of that in county government.”

  Fenway elbowed him conspiratorially. “Almost as much as in health care.”

  McVie laughed. “Ready to go?”

  “Hey,” Rachel said, “how come McVie is giving you a ride home?”

  “I don’t have a car yet,” Fenway replied. “I sold my car in Seattle and drove down in a moving truck. I figured I’d buy a car once I arrived, but, uh, I’ve been a little busy. That’s why I took the bus to happy hour.”

  “Oh.”

  “What, you thought I was a public transportation activist, or something?”

  “Well, I don’t know,” Rachel said, shrugging. “Want a ride tomorrow morning?”

  “Sure. Maybe we can get donuts, or bagels, or something for the office on the way.”

  Rachel smiled at her.

  “Got your stuff, Fenway?” McVie tapped his keys on the counter.

  “Thanks, Sheriff. Yes.”

  Fenway and McVie walked outside. The fog had started to roll in, and although it was still light, the breeze off the ocean had picked up, and it was getting chilly.

  “Did Lana take care of you?”

  She looked at McVie. She wondered if Lana had ever said a bad word to him. She wondered if he would even believe it if she told him how rude Lana had been. “I got through all the paperwork and handbooks.”

  “So, I should probably tell you, since all of the investigators around here have a conflict of interest with going through Walker’s office, you won’t just be leading the evidence gathering, you’re going to be doing all of the evidence gathering too.”

  “Yep. Dez already told me.”

  He sighed. “I’m sorry. Dez wasn’t supposed to tell you until you were going to start the investigation.”

  “She didn’t tell me until I started the investigation.”

  “You started already? I thought for sure Lana would be going over paperwork with you until the end of the day.”

  “She was pretty quick with me,” Fenway said, diplomatically. “I had a couple of hours, and I started to ask who could help me, and if anyone had fingerprinted anything, then Dez broke the news to me that I’d have to do all of it.”

  McVie was quiet.

  “So, after I started investigating, I found out a couple of things and I was wondering if you could shed some light on some stuff.”

  “Sure,” he said.

  “Well, first of all, has anyone found Walker’s laptop?”

  “It wasn’t in his office?”

  “Doesn’t look like it. I guess he could have locked it in a drawer or a file cabinet. I don’t have the keys yet. They’re bringing them tomorrow morning.”

  “What, you didn’t put in any overtime on your first day? Man, don’t let Klein hear about this.” He chuckled.

  She bit her tongue. She didn’t want to tell McVie about her conversation with Klein.
“The thing is, Sheriff, that laptop might be important. It might have a file, or something, that would point us to the motive. I’ve heard that Walker usually took his laptop home, but he sometimes left it in the office. And if his laptop isn’t in the office, we probably need to find it.”

  He nodded. “Of course.”

  “What’s the protocol here? Do we need to execute a search warrant on his house and car?”

  McVie was quiet for a minute. “We haven’t found his car yet. He was found outside of the regional park, but without his car. He had his wallet, but no keys. I’m wondering if we’re going to see that car go up in smoke soon.”

  “Burning a car draws too much attention,” Fenway said. “I’d check the long-term lots at LAX. And the other L.A. airports. I guess we should check the Santa Barbara and the Estancia airports, too, just to be sure, but an abandoned car is much less likely to get noticed in a long-term lot at LAX than at one of the smaller airports.”

  “How about the Bay Area? SFO?”

  She shook her head. “Too far. The killer could have driven a couple of hours to LAX, left the car, and taken a Greyhound, or Amtrak, or even one of the airport shuttles back here in time to get a couple of hours of sleep and show up for work the next day. SFO is a four-and-a-half-hour drive, maybe longer, and there’s no easy way to get back. Amtrak takes at least six or seven hours. Same with the bus. With LAX, you’re gone for five or six hours in the middle of the night when you’re supposed to be asleep; it’s probable no one even knows you’re gone. With SFO, if you’re gone for eighteen hours and you don’t show up wherever you’re supposed to be Monday morning, someone will notice.”

  “Okay.” McVie nodded. “Maybe I’ll have someone call the airport lots.”

  “Hey mister,” she said, a touch of playfulness in her voice, “I thought I was supposed to be responsible for the forensic evidence. Maybe I’ll have somebody call the airport lots.”

  “Man, first day on the job and you’re already bossing me around.” He smiled.

  Fenway smiled too. Something about McVie’s attitude, how he was so comfortable in his own skin, how being around him made Fenway like herself more, made a smile so much easier. She cleared her throat. “All right, Sheriff. We need to find the laptop and the car.”

  “And I know I’m leading the investigation, Fenway, but at some point, I may have to have you interview all the people in that office.”

  “Oh.” She paused. “But you’re leading the investigation. Why aren’t you doing it?”

  “Because I’ve worked with Dez and Mark for years. People will think I won’t be impartial.”

  She furrowed her brow. “Listen, I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

  “I’m sure they’re all expecting it.”

  “Whether they’re expecting it or not, it could really screw up my working relationships with them if I handle it wrong,” she said. “And my forensics classes haven’t covered interrogations. They’ve covered interviewing eyewitnesses, but nothing like this. I’m out of my element.”

  McVie thought for a moment. “It’s definitely a delicate balance. But I’m not sure we have another choice.”

  “You could assist me in the interview.”

  “No, I don’t think I can.”

  “Sure you can. It’s not like you’ll be in the room with the files that have your name on them. That’s why I’m in charge of the evidence collection, and you’re in charge of the investigation.”

  He rubbed his chin in thought. “I’m sorry this is tricky, Fenway, but we do have to handle this delicately. I think you better operate under the assumption that everyone is a suspect, even me.”

  Fenway laughed. “Well, if you’re a suspect, I probably shouldn’t be getting a ride home with you.”

  He thought for a second. “You’re absolutely right.”

  She slapped him playfully on the shoulder. “Settle down, McVie, I was kidding.”

  “No, but you’re totally correct. I actually should have seen this before. This ride home could have the appearance of the two of us colluding. It’s not good. You should get a car. Or a bus pass.”

  “I was kidding!”

  “But I’m not. Look, I don’t mind giving you a ride. You’re smart, you’ve got that dry sense of humor.” He paused. “And you’re pretty.”

  Fenway looked at McVie out of the corner of her eye. His cheeks were a little red.

  McVie rushed ahead with his thoughts. “But everyone else has a conflict of interest, and that includes me. And the more you and I are seen together, the more conflict of interest you will have.”

  Fenway shook her head. “My mom would have called you a Boy Scout.”

  “She would have been right. I became an Eagle Scout when I was seventeen.”

  “All right then, mister.” She tried to keep her tone light, but couldn’t hide the disappointment in her voice. “Drop me off, and we shall not speak of this again.”

  “At least until we get some evidence that someone outside the sheriff’s department is the main suspect,” he said.

  They drove in silence the rest of the way. He apologized again before she got out of his car, and she said she understood.

  She wandered around her apartment a little bit, wondering if she was hungry enough to venture out to grab something to go, or if she should eat the leftover pizza from her lunch with McVie the day before.

  She finally decided to do neither, and picked up the phone and called her father.

  “Nathaniel Ferris,” he answered.

  She put on a bad Brooklyn accent. “Yeah, Mister Ferris, I’s got a lady on the line, says her name is Wrigley or Camden or something. Wait, it’s coming to me—a Miss Chavez Ravine.”

  “Very funny, Fenway.”

  “Hi, Dad,” she said, dropping the accent. “Just calling to see if we should coordinate outfits again tomorrow.”

  “I hope you weren’t this sarcastic in your interview with the supervisors.”

  Fenway shook her head but kept her tone upbeat. “Oh, come on, Dad, you know I’m only joking.”

  He hesitated before speaking. “I know, I know. So, how did everything go today?”

  “Fine. I got grilled by Dr. Klein, but I must have passed, because Sheriff McVie appointed me, and my paperwork was filled out by three o’clock.”

  “Wow, congratulations, Fenway! That’s moving fast, especially for the sheriff’s department.”

  “Oh, come on, Dad, you didn’t grease the wheels?”

  He paused. “Fenway, I know I have the reputation of being a very powerful man in this county, but I can assure you, I wouldn’t even know how to grease the wheels.”

  “But you did talk to Sheriff McVie about my appointment.”

  “Of course, I called Craig. When I heard what had happened to Harrison Walker, I knew we were going to have trouble finding someone who’d be willing to cover the job until the election. And I immediately thought of you: you have a strong medical background, and you can’t apply for nursing positions until you get your license in California. I thought it was the best possible solution.”

  Fenway started pacing around the apartment. “And plus, I don’t have my name in those files in Walker’s office.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, I started gathering evidence this afternoon, and I basically have to do it all myself, because everyone else has a conflict of interest. They’ve got files, or open investigations they were working on, or something like that. Those files might have the killer’s motive in there.”

  “You started the Walker investigation?”

  “Yes, I did, Dad. It’s pretty important that I look like I’m making headway.”

  “Well, it would be important if you were going to run for coroner in November.”

  “Important if this town is going to maintain trust in the sheriff’s office.”

  He laughed. “Well, okay. I don’t think you need to think you’re carrying the town on your shoulders. But sure, that’s th
e work ethic I taught you.”

  She grimaced. Yes, perhaps her father had a work ethic, but it was her mother who instilled in her that sense of responsibility. Her father hadn’t had time to teach her anything.

  “It’s great that you started today, though,” he continued. “Did you make any progress?”

  She clicked her tongue against her teeth. She had to be careful about this. She thought her father probably had an agenda; he was praising her, yet still treating her like she wasn’t smart enough. She thought it was probably to get her to try to prove how much she knew—and give up more information than she should. “It’s early in the process. I won’t even get the keys to his files until tomorrow morning, so everything is still pretty preliminary.”

  “That makes sense. I don’t think anyone even expected the investigation to start until later this week, as important of a figure as Harrison was.”

  “It’s weird though,” she continued. “The first forty-eight hours of a homicide investigation are the most important, and the sheriff has spent most of it with discussions about conflicts of interest and jurisdictional issues.”

  “I’m sure Craig is doing everything he can with a limited amount of resources.” Ferris coughed. “Well, enough shop talk. Now that you’re in town, I’d love to take my daughter out to dinner. Are you busy Thursday night?”

  “Tomorrow night?”

  “Yes.”

  “You and Charlotte aren’t doing anything?”

  “Charlotte and I are going to a movie premiere in Hollywood this weekend,” he said. “Thursday night is for dinner with my daughter.”

  “All right. I hope I don’t have to work overtime on this investigation, but if I don’t, I’d love to join you.”

  “Do you mind if I make reservations for Maxime’s at eight o’clock?”

  “That sounds fancy enough that I won’t even pretend I can afford going Dutch.”

  “No, no. Of course, it’s my treat.”

  “All right, Dad, sounds good.”

  They said their goodbyes and hung up, and Fenway wondered if she had given too much information on the investigation to the most powerful man in the county. She wondered what her mother would have said about their conversation. She wondered if he had already gotten all that information from Sheriff McVie.