Death On A Green (Jill Quint, MD, Forensic Pathologist Book 4)

by Alec Peche

  Marie stepped up first and placing her tee and ball in position, swung and drove the ball straight down the fairway about one hundred yards. Jo went next and she drove her ball slightly into the rough on the right side. Angela followed driving her ball fairly close to Marie’s ball. Jill went last and she was a feast or famine golfer. Her first drive was a complete miss. She swung at the ball with force and missed contact with the ball, but the swing took her around in a circle. After the laughter of her friends and herself died down, she took a second swing and had a beautiful drive twenty yards beyond Marie and Angela. They all headed towards the rough where they thought Jo’s ball had landed and found it quickly. Jo was back on the fairway with her shots for the rest of the hole. It was labeled a par five and they were generally pleased if any of them managed to bogey the hole.

  They continued their slow pace to the eighteenth hole and then started over at the first hole. It was a par four and by now, Jill was consistently making contact with the ball. Jo turned her body such that while the ball went to the right it was still on the fairway. They continued to the second hole, a par five, and more importantly, it contained the tent over the margarita mix servers. The foursome had been stuck with beer up to that point. The second hole was so much more pleasant when a golfer had a margarita to serve as aiming juice. All four women achieved bogeys at the par five and then they moved on to the third hole. They stood to the side waiting for the group in front of them to clear the tee box. Then they heard it.

  A very loud shotgun blast sounded from close by in the woods. Jill dropped to the grass on the green and yelled, “Drop to the ground now! You’re an easy target standing up,” and they complied with her order.

  Jill looked around her and saw that no-one else was ducking. Perhaps they were used to guns going off at a close range, but she wasn’t. It sounded like the gunshot had come from the woods that were adjacent to the green of second hole and the tee box of third hole

  Then they heard shouts.

  Chapter Two

  “Oh my god, he’s dead,” were the words that traveled over the air to Jill, who was still face down on the ground.

  “Jill, I think we had better go back to the last green - it sounds like someone was shot there, maybe we can help,” Angela asserted to her friends. Beyond the single shot that rang out, they hadn’t heard any additional shots.

  They all scrambled to their feet and ran towards the previous green that they had all just celebrated on. There was a man lying there face up with a bullet wound almost between his eyebrows. His three friends were standing around him and one was on his cell phone having called 9-1-1.

  Jill rushed over and put her fingers on his carotid artery testing for a pulse. It was thin and slow and the man was clearly not breathing. In five seconds of assessment, she knew the man was already dead and it was just a matter of his heart following his brain to its final destination of death. She put her hand behind his scalp and it came away covered in bloody pieces of bone and brain matter.

  Jill looked up at her friends and whispered, “This is very bad, I recommend that we not touch him and wait for the ambulance to arrive. We don’t want to start CPR on him.”

  Looking over at the other three golfers, one of which had just finished puking in the woods she asked “When will an ambulance be here?”

  “There is a fire station close by - it should be just another minute,” replied the woman.

  Jill looked over at them and said, “This is a very bad bullet wound to the head, his heart rate is slowing and we could do CPR. Do any of you know how to do it?”

  One of the men must have heard the caution in her voice and he asked “It looks very bad. It looks like you have his brains on your hand.” The other gentleman turned away to puke again.

  “I would guess you are correct about that. I am a forensic pathologist. I worked in a crime lab for many years. I am not trained in trauma or neurosurgery. All I do know is that I saw a lot of these types of injuries at the medical examiner’s office.”

  They could hear the ambulance and fire trucks getting closer. She wondered if they would drive out on the course. Marie had thought to call the golf course’s office and warn them that the ambulance would be arriving. A few more seconds went by and no one suggested they start CPR. They could now see a golf cart leading the fire truck, police car, and ambulance over to the green. They needed the little golf cart to direct their path and avoid any water or creeks that the vehicles would get stuck in. Jill leaned down and checked the pulse and found none. She was glad she could leave any further action in the paramedic’s hands. They ran over to where the man was laying on the green with their supplies.

  Jill said, “I am a physician - a forensic pathologist. His pulse has stopped and he has a grievous bullet wound to the brain injury.”

  The paramedics hooked him up to their equipment transmitting the results to the local base station. Everyone at the scene seemed to be of the opinion to do nothing.

  “Are you a licensed physician in the State of Wisconsin?” asked the paramedic.

  “No, I am licensed in California. I don’t know your medical examiner rules and policies in this state so I don’t believe I can pronounce him for you.”

  “I am waiting for the base station to confirm we do nothing here at the scene, and instead send the body to the coroner.”

  No sooner had he said that, when word came from the base station to go ahead and pronounce him dead.

  The paramedic did just that and he and his partner had a discussion with the police on next steps. Green Bay averaged one murder a year, almost always a domestic disturbance. As the shooter had not come forward with smoking gun in hand, this would be a true investigation of the murder. As an afterthought they passed a box of wipes over to Jill and she was able to get the blood and brain matter off her hands. Six wipes later she felt better about her hands, although she would still wash them before she touched food.

  Angela had been quiet the whole time, and suddenly, Jill remembered that she had been a friend of the victim.

  “Angela, I’m so sorry that you lost your friend. Can you tell me what you know about him?” probed Jill.

  “It’s really very shocking to join a friend at the beginning of a golf match - one that you haven’t spoken to in maybe two years and then two hours later they are shot dead less than fifty yards from you.”

  By now all the women had encircled Angela and were giving her support.

  “What was his name?” asked Marie.

  “Doug Easley. He was anesthesiologist at Our Lady of Guadalupe Hospital. He was an absolutely beloved physician. He worked long hours providing anesthesia, agreeing to work overtime to take care of a patient’s pain or to assist a surgeon with a last minute tumor removal. You know that most patients can’t tell you who their anesthesiologist is, but they knew him which tells you what a great communicator he was,” said Angela suddenly overflowing with thoughts and words about Doug. “I even took their family portrait three years ago when his twin daughters were entering middle school. I assisted his daughters in achieving a ‘cool look’ in the photo. Jill, we need to work on this case for free. Doug would have wanted that and his wife Michelle will want that.”

  “We’ll need Michelle’s approval to go forward. I can create a no-charge contract for her to sign. Do you think you can get her to sign it? This will be a terrible day for her, but I would like to get in on the autopsy right away.”

  “During my photo shoot, I mentioned the part-time job with you and she thought it was so cool. So we won’t have to convince her of our legitimacy. As soon as you can get me the contract, I’ll go see her and get her to sign it.”

  “We’re going to be stuck here for at least an hour as the police need to take our statements. Afterwards we can go to Office Max in the East Town Mall and I’ll print a copy of the contract and forms for her to sign. I can come with you to meet Michelle, although I think it would be better if you approached her first, but I leave that decision up
to you. It would also help if you could take some pictures of the scene - Doug, this green, the woods. I will be setting up a murder board as you know and it would help to have these photos.”

  “Okay, let me see what I can do with my phone camera. I agree with your thoughts on approaching Michelle and just as soon as we are done here we’ll head to Office Max.”

  “Jill, I have never been on a crime scene before, what do you think is going to happen?” asked Marie. "I suppose the table where Laura Peeters died was a crime scene, but it was not treated that way, while we in the restaurant."

  “I have been to many crime scenes as a medical examiner. So the police should leave the body here at the start of the investigation. They should secure this scene and interview each of us separately as to what we heard and saw as well as the three golfers that Doug was playing with. Depending on the size of the detective division, this may take a while to organize. We ought to go sit on that bench over there while they organize. I’m guessing our favorite golf tournament has ended with this tragic event.”

  They watched a policewoman and a paramedic walk out of the woods close to where they were sitting and where Jill had thought the shot had come from. She was glad someone had taken a look into the woods in case the shooter was still there, but she had doubted they would find anyone as this seemed, in her experience, to be pre-mediated murder. The fire truck had returned to its station while the paramedics leaned against their van waiting for the authorization to remove the body. Meanwhile a whole platoon of police cars had shown up on the scene.

  A detective came over to speak with them.

  “I hear that one of you is a forensic pathologist,” stated a man in a suit with badge clipped to his belt.

  “Yes, I am. I am retired from the State of California Crime lab, but I do private consultations on suspicious deaths. Sadly the cause of death here is very apparent. What is your name?”

  “I am Detective Van Bruggin,” the man said unclipping and showing her his badge and handing her his business card. “If you don’t mind I would like to interview all of you separately. Doctor, I would like to start with you. Will you come with me to the tee box on the next hole?”

  Jill stood up and gave her friends a look of ‘isn’t this going to be fun’ and followed the detective out of hearing range to the next hole’s tee box.

  “Can you tell me your name, address, and phone number?” asked the detective, pen and paper in hand.

  “I’m Dr. Jill Quint, I live in Palisades Valley, California,” Jill followed that with her address and phone number.

  "So what is a Californian doing on this golf course?"

  “I am vacationing in Green Bay and this is day three of seven days that I plan to spend here. I am on this course for the golf outing and these are my three friends. My day job is that of owner of the Quixotic Winery. Since retiring from the crime lab in California, I have been doing part-time private cases for the past five years. My friends that you will be interviewing also work part-time for me doing investigative work and they live in this city. Over the course of my career as a pathologist, I have roughly participated in over one thousand murder investigations. I also participated in other criminal investigations such as rape, abuse, and under the influence of something. This is the first time that I have been on scene when a murder has been committed. If you would like references for myself or my three friends, I can provide them to you from the FBI and the SFPD.”

  Jill was trying to volunteer as much pertinent information as she could to be helpful to the investigation.

  “So short of a detective, you might be the single best person to have on-scene when a murder occurs,” summarized the detective.

  “Actually, I would go a step farther and say I’m the best person to have on-scene because I can try and save your life after the attempt has been made.”

  “Touché,” agreed the detective. “What did you see and hear today at this course?”

  “We met Doug’s foursome back at the fourteenth hole where we all started. There were two foursomes assigned to each hole. We were the ‘A’ group and they were the ‘B’ group. Angela, one of the members of my foursome, knew the victim and his family. They had a brief discussion before we teed off. We finished the second hole and then had to wait at the third tee box for the group in front of us to finish. This had been the case on nearly every hole we played today. It is a crowded course as this is a popular golf outing. We were all standing around on the tee box waiting for the group in front of us to be far enough down the fairway before teeing off. I bent over, placing my ball and the tee in the grass. As I straightened up, and I heard the gunshot which sounded like it was close by in those woods.” Jill described pointing at the woods on the rim of the green. “I dropped to the ground and yelled at my three friends to do likewise. We stayed down but heard no further shots. We then heard conversation drifting up from the green we had just played and it sounded like one of them had been hit by the gunshot. My friends and I stood up and quickly approached the green. I immediately noted that the victim was face up with a bullet wound to the head that I had seen many times on my autopsy table. I approached the victim and could see he was not breathing. I checked his pulse and it was faint but there. I felt the back side of his head to check for an exit wound verifying in my head that this was likely a fatal gunshot wound. By unspoken agreement, we all waited for the ambulance to arrive and it did about two to four minutes after the gunshot. With the aid of the base station and the paramedic assessment, the victim was pronounced dead shortly thereafter.”

  “Did you move the body while you were doing your assessment?" asked the detective.

  Jill stared him down, the answer in her eyes as she said in a clipped voice, “Of course not. His body is in the same position as it was when we approached the green. A gunshot coming out of the woods targeting that man in the head would have produced that body position.”

  "Just checking. It appeared as though the body had not been moved, but I needed to know that for the record. Did you hear any sounds in the woods before or after you heard the sound of the gun?"

  "My friends and I play noisy golf. We continue to converse even as we swing our drivers at the ball. We had some quiet time while the foursome that went before us drove their tee shots. I did not hear anything that registered on my conscience as unusual. I did not hear the gun get cocked. There may have been the usual noise from squirrels and birds, but I don't remember hearing any sound that was unusual.”

  "Again for the record, did you have any alcoholic drinks in the past hour?"

  With a sigh Jill replied, “I had a beer that lasted me from the fourteenth to eighteenth hole. On the second hole, I had a margarita. I would guess my blood-alcohol would not exceed 0.8 at this moment nor at the time of the actual shooting.”

  “Thank you. Is there anything I should have asked you that I didn’t?”

  “You only asked me one question concerning my opinion as a forensic pathologist. What would you ask me if I was the coroner assigned to this case?”

  “What gun was used?”

  “Given this is a deer hunting region and there had to be some sharpshooting skills, my guess is a Winchester .308.”

  “Deliberate shooting or an accident?”

  “Homicide, deliberate.”

  “Did the shooter hit the intended target?”

  “Yes, Doug was the intended target.”

  “How do you know that?”

  Jill was resisting rolling her eyes, “Because only a single shot was fired. If the shooter had missed, there would have been a second shot. Given the placement of the bullet precisely between the eyebrows, this was a very talented shooter.”

  “Okay, thanks. You have been very helpful. Would you mind sending over your friend who knows the victim?”

  Jill nodded her agreement and left the tee box for the bench where her friends were sitting.

  “Angela, the detective wants to speak with you next,” and she pointed to where he w
as standing, writing notes on his computer tablet.

  They watched her walk over and then turned to their own conversation.

  “What did he ask you?” asked Marie.

  “What you would expect - describe what was happening when you heard the gun go off, my name, address, and occupation. Then he asked me a few questions in my role as a forensic pathologist.”

  “What did you tell him?” asked Jo.

  “I don’t mean to be rude, but we shouldn’t discuss what we heard in case one of us heard something different,” explained Jill. “Give your statement to the detective, than we can discuss it between us afterward. I am surprised he didn’t give us that warning. Hopefully, whoever is interviewing the other foursome, or maybe I should say threesome, has provided them with a warning.”

  “Did you tell him we were going to work on this case?” asked Marie.

  “No, we don’t have Michelle’s authorization, so I wouldn’t want to mention it until I have a contract in place.”

  “Ok, I’ll follow your lead on that one and hopefully Angela doesn’t accidentally mention our intent to do a free investigation. Do you think that they will let us go after the interviews are done?” asked Jo. “I’ll need a bathroom soon after the beer and adrenaline rush.”

  “I’ll just ask the officers to excuse us since I could use a bathroom break as well. I am sure the golf course is closed and we can easily drive to the clubhouse in the cart. If they will let us, we should examine the woods looking for clues. That might help us solve the case faster for Michelle's sake.”

  Jill and Jo walked over to the group of detectives and police officers, trying to avoid looking at Doug who had not been covered up yet. “Detective Van Bruggin is interviewing us; he has already taken my statement. Jo and I need to take our cart and go to the bathroom at the club house,” and they continued toward their golf cart.