“You’re right; it’s been a while. Good to see you, too, Lieutenant,” Buck lied. They shook hands. “I’d like you to meet Detective Kristie Karlsson, my new partner.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Detective Karlsson.”
While shaking hands, Kruger’s eyes gave Kristie the elevator look. He started at the bottom and worked his way to the top. It was apparent from the lecherous smirk on his face he liked what he saw. Karl Kruger had a reputation as a playboy. He had been divorced twice and was currently single and on the prowl.
“I’ve been concerned about Detective Mason. I was afraid something terrible might have happened to him. When I received the call from Captain Robertson, I wasn’t surprised. Mason was working undercover gathering evidence on the White Skulls, a white supremacist street gang, and his partner Joe Davidson has been working undercover trying to do the same with the Black Devils gang. The two groups are battling for control of the drug trade in the Bronx. Mason hasn’t called in for a few days, and I couldn’t reach him on his cell or home phone. Now I know why.”
“Do you want to go up now or wait for the forensics people?” Buck asked. “They should be here soon.”
“I’d prefer to go up now. When the CSU team start processing the crime scene, it’ll be like a zoo in there.”
Not wanting to take a chance on embarrassing herself again, Kristie said, “You two go. I’ll stay here and let the CSU team in when they arrive.”
“Okay,” Buck said. “Let’s go, Lieutenant.”
Kruger took one look at Mason’s body and immediately began to retch. He ran to the bathroom and did everything he could to keep his breakfast from spilling out into the toilet bowl. After several deep breaths, Kruger felt better. He splashed water onto his face then went back to the bedroom. He stuck his head in the door and said, “I’ll let you and your new partner stay and work the case. I’m getting the hell outta here. I’ve got to go fill in my boss and make a few phone calls. Let’s keep in touch. See you later.”
“Okay. Better take something to settle your stomach, Lieutenant,” Buck said, grinning.
After Kruger had left, Woods relocked the door and headed back to the lobby to join Kristie.
As Woods stepped out of the elevator, Kristie said, “Your friend Lieutenant Kruger flew outta here looking like he’d seen a ghost. He didn’t even say goodbye.”
Buck laughed. “He wasn’t feeling too good. I think the crime scene really shook him up.”
“I can relate to that.”
“Kristie, I think I’ll go talk to the manager, and inform him of the situation, and check to see if he has any security footage of the last several days. Maybe we’ll get lucky and spot our killer coming and going from the building.”
“Okay. I’ll hold the fort down and wait for forensics.”
When Buck knocked on the manager’s door, a raspy voice said, “Come in, it’s open.”
Hank Rogers, a tall, balding man in his mid-fifties, got up from behind a dark oak desk. Seeing it was Buck, he smiled broadly and said, “Detective Woods, what a pleasant surprise. You’re back from vacation. Welcome home, Detective.”
“Thanks, Hank. It’s good to see you again.”
They shook hands, and Buck went on to explain the reason for his visit.
After checking security videos for the past two days, they found nothing of interest. Three days ago, just before midnight, they viewed an elderly man arriving in a taxi. As the resident entered the building and disappeared into an elevator, a tall, muscular man wearing a black hoodie, a black ski mask, blue jeans, white sneakers, and powder blue latex gloves appeared out of nowhere. He caught the slow-moving door a split second before it automatically locked and ran to a waiting elevator. On his ride to the eleventh floor, he boldly gestured into the camera with his middle finger. Buck noticed his unusual eyes. They were steel gray. Next, the camera caught him lifting up the side of his ski mask. As he began to scratch his neck, Buck said, “Stop it right there, Hank.” Rogers paused the video, and they saw a small tattoo of a white skull wearing a black top hat with a white band. Printed on the band in red letters were the words “White Skulls”––the symbol of the ruthless white supremacist Bronx street gang. Besides murder for hire and drugs, they were into extorting money from small business owners.
“It looks like he’s a member of the White Skulls. Can you make me a copy of this video, Hank?”
“Sure, Detective, no problem. I’ll put it on a flash drive for you.”
“Thanks. I’d really appreciate that.”
As they continued to watch the video, at four minutes after twelve, the cameras caught the mystery man leaving the building and vanishing into the night.
“While you’re making a copy of the video, I’m going to look around outside. It shouldn’t take long.”
Passing Kristie, Buck said, “I’m going outside to take a look around.”
She nodded and asked, “Do you want me to come with you?”
“No. I think it’s best if you stay here and let the CSU team in if they arrive before I get back.”
“Will do.”
Buck stood at the front entrance and surveyed the grounds. He was looking for a spot where the killer might have waited before following the resident into the building. The only place that looked feasible was a large oak tree to the left of the entrance. He walked over and examined the ground behind the tree. The dirt was still moist from a recent rain storm.
“Holy shit,” Woods said out loud. He was staring down at large shoeprints. He guessed they were around size eleven or twelve. Could they belong to Detective Mason’s killer? He spotted a marijuana butt near one of the shoe prints. If this is where the killer hid, his DNA should be on the butt.
Buck pulled out his cell phone. He snapped several pictures of the footprints and the marijuana butt. Five minutes later, he picked up the flash drive from Hank Rodgers then went back to the lobby and sat down next to Kristie.
“How did you make out?” Kristie asked.
“I think we might have found our killer. The security cameras caught an unsub coming into and leaving the building three nights ago.”
“That’s great! Did you get a good look at him?”
“Yes and no.”
Kristie looked confused. “What do you mean?”
“He was tall and muscular and looked to be in good shape. It’s hard to tell his age since we didn’t get to see his face. He was wearing a black hoodie and a ski mask. However, when he looked at the camera, he had steely gray eyes. That should make him easier to spot. How many people have gray eyes?”
“Not many, I guess. Too bad the suspect’s face was covered by a ski mask.”
“Yeah, but there may be another way we can identify him. When he lifted the mask to scratch his neck, there was a small tattoo of a White Skulls logo. He must be a member of that white supremacist group. That should help narrow down our search considerably.”
“I hope so,” Kristie said.
“Outside I found shoeprints behind a large tree near the front entrance. It looks like that’s where our killer was hiding before he entered the building. There’s also a marijuana butt on the ground. As soon as forensics get here, I’m going to have them cast the shoeprints. If we can identify the make of shoe from the treads, it might make it easier to find the killer. Hopefully, he’s still wearing the same shoes. His DNA should be on the butt. If he’s in the system, we should be able to track him down.”
“That’s excellent news,” Kristie said enthusiastically.
“Even with those clues, it’s not going to be easy to find this guy. The White Skulls must have a few hundred members, maybe more. And I don’t think they’ll be too cooperative when it comes to supplying information to a couple of cops. We’ll have to call on every Confidential Informant we can get our hands on. Like I said to the captain, if that d
oesn’t work out, we’ll have to hit the pavement and do some good old-fashioned legwork.”
Their conversation was interrupted by the wail of distant sirens. It took less than five minutes for the Medical Examiner and Crime Scene Unit team to arrive, followed by two squad cars. Kristie jumped up and ran to open the door.
As ME Dr. Hector Rodriguez approached, Buck went to greet him. The short, stout, balding forensic pathologist, in his early fifties, was a veteran of the NYPD. He and Buck were on a first- name basis, having worked many crime scenes together over the years.
“Hector,” Buck said, extending his hand. “Long time no see.”
Shaking Buck’s hand, he smiled. “Buck, it’s so good to see you again. How was your vacation?”
Without elaborating, Buck said, “It was good. However, what I found in my condo makes me think I should’ve stayed in Maine.”
Buck went on to introduce Kristie as his new partner and to update Rodriguez on the situation.
“I’ll have a tech go out and cast the shoeprints and place the butt into evidence. Just so you know, it takes about three days for the cast to dry. We’ll check the butt for DNA and run it through the database to see if the unsub is in the system,” the ME said.
Different makes and styles of shoes have their own tread patterns. The NYPD now had access to databases that would reveal the make of shoe the killer was wearing. The way the tread had worn or any damage to the sole might help link the killer to the murder scene. If any DNA found on the butt was in the Federal or State database, it could help them identify the suspect.
Before being allowed into a crime scene, the procedure called for all parties to fill in the Crime Scene Entry Log Sheet. The log sheet contained the following: agency name, scene location, incident number, name and title of the person, their initials, their agency name, time and date in, time out, and the reason for entering. A log officer was assigned to make sure those entering the crime scene completed the form, which he or she usually kept on a clipboard.
After everyone had logged in, the experts went to work. While the team processed the crime scene, Woods and Karlsson asked questions and took notes. When Buck felt they had the information they needed, he turned to the ME, and said, “Hector, Detective Karlsson and I are going to round up a few uniforms to help us canvass the building. Hopefully, someone may have seen or heard something the night of the murder that may help our investigation.”
“Okay, Buck. It’s really been crazy lately. This is my fifth homicide in the last few days. I’ll do my best to get a report to you ASAP. If you and Detective Karlsson would like to drop by, I’ll be performing the autopsy on Detective Mason tomorrow morning at eleven.”
“Okay, Hector. We’ll plan to be there.”
At the door, they logged out and headed toward two uniforms who were chatting in the corridor near the elevator. Buck introduced Kristie and himself to the officers as the detectives in charge of the murder investigation. He recruited them to help canvass the building.
“Detective Karlsson and I will work our way up from the ninth floor. I want you two to start knocking on doors on the ground floor. Work as a team and take notes. I want to know if anyone saw or heard anything three nights ago. That’s the night we believe Detective Mason was murdered.” He handed each officer his card. “Call me on my cell if you need me. When you’re done, meet us in the lobby. That’s it for now. Let’s get to work.”
Three hours later, Buck and Kristie took the elevator down to the lobby and found the two officers waiting for them. After comparing notes, no one had seen or heard anything unusual the night of the murder. Even Buck’s next-door neighbor, an elderly couple who went to bed with the chickens, didn’t hear a thing. The killer must have suppressed the gunshots by using a silencer.
“Thanks for your help,” Buck said to the officers. “You can go now.”
After the uniforms had gone, Buck and Kristie headed back to the eleventh floor. Stepping out of the elevator, they found the CSU team waiting in the corridor with Detective Dan Mason’s corpse in a body bag on a gurney. As a second elevator arrived, everyone said their goodbyes, after which Buck went back and locked up his condo.
Since they hadn’t had time for lunch, both detectives were tired and starving. They decided to stop at the station house to update Captain Robertson before heading to Parrilla Latina, a restaurant about a mile from the precinct.
When they arrived in the squad room, Captain Robertson spotted them and asked them to step into her office.
Before sitting down, Woods handed Captain Robertson the flash drive that Hank Rodgers had given to him. She popped it into her computer, tilted her chair back, and clicked “play.” When the video was finished, she leaned forward and said, “It looks like we have a possible suspect who could be a member of the White Skulls gang.”
“It looks that way,” Buck said.
He went on to mention the footprints, the marijuana butt, and the 9mm shell casings they had found.
“What’s your next move?”
“Detective Karlsson and I will talk with our informants and see if any of them can help us identify the unsub. If that doesn’t give us any leads, we’ll have to check out their turf in the Bronx where the White Skulls deal drugs. If we spot anyone who resembles the physical appearance of the suspect, we’ll have a little chat with him and see where it leads. Since we don’t know what his face looks like, there’s no way we can arrest him at this time.”
“I agree. You’ll need to come up with more proof. A DNA match from the marijuana butts, or finding a pistol in his possession that matches the shell casings and slugs from the crime scene, should do the trick. Start in the morning and keep me updated on any progress you make. That’s all for now. Detective Woods can you stay for a minute.”
After Kristie had left, Captain Robertson asked, “Can you fill me in on how Detective Karlsson made out at her first crime scene?”
“Actually, she did better than I had expected.”
Buck went on to give Captain Robertson all the details. Ten minutes later, he was back at his desk.
Curious, Kristie asked, “What was that all about?”
“The captain wanted to know how you made out at your first crime scene.”
“And what did you tell her?”
“I told her the truth.”
“The truth? And what was that?”
“That you were a little nervous at first, and when you viewed the decomposing body of Detective Mason, you became nauseous and had to leave the room, but that you recovered quickly, came back, and did a good job answering my questions. I told her you are an astute observer and eager to learn.”
“What did she say to that?”
“The captain laughed and said she wasn’t surprised when you became nauseous. Overall, she seemed pleased with my report.”
“That’s good to hear.”
Changing the subject, Buck said, “Let’s go eat, I’m starving.”
CHAPTER 2
Looking over the menu, Kristie decided on a grilled chicken breast served with a garden salad and mixed vegetables. Buck chose a grilled medium rare sirloin steak with french fries and a side caesar salad. They agreed on a bottle of Merlot Veneto.
“Just so you know, I’m buying,” Buck said.
“You don’t have to do that. I can pay my own way.”
“I insist, and I won’t take no for an answer.”
“Okay, thanks. I appreciate it.”
When their wine arrived, Buck sampled it and approved. The waiter poured them each a glass and left.
“I’d like to propose a toast,” Buck said. “To a successful partnership together. May we solve many homicides, starting with Detective Dan Mason’s murder.”
Kristie nodded, smiled, and said, “I’ll drink to that. Cheers.”
“Cheers.”
They clink
ed glasses and sipped.
“I’d like to propose one more toast,” Kristie said. “To your promotion.”
The toast completed, Kristie asked, “What’s the relationship between you and Lieutenant Kruger? You seem to know each other quite well.”
“We go back to when I was promoted from a patrol officer and assigned to the narcotics division. I was in my late twenties, and Kruger was in his early thirties. Kruger had been on the squad for about five years, and he became my partner and mentor. During the time he and I were partners, we developed a casual friendship. A few years later, an opening came up in homicide. I applied and got the job.”
“Why did you decide to leave narcotics for the homicide division?”
“When I joined the force, I always thought solving murders was something I wanted to do. When an opening came up, I decided to go for it.”
Buck suspected Kruger was on the take, and he didn’t want any part of it, so he decided to get out when the opportunity came along. He had always wondered how Kruger was able to afford two nasty divorces, Armani suits, an expensive condo, and a fancy sports car.
Sounding upset, Kristie said, “When I shook hands with Lieutenant Kruger, I didn’t appreciate the way he looked at me. I felt he was undressing me with his eyes.”
“That’s Kruger all right. He fashions himself a ladies man and hits on attractive women––single or married. He got divorced about a year ago for the second time. Both wives caught him cheating and dumped him without a second chance.”
“Thanks for the info. I’ll keep that in mind if Kruger tries to hit on me.”
“Knowing Kruger, I’m sure hitting on you will be high on his priority list.”
“I hope not. By the way, what’s with Captain Robertson? Is she married, have any kids that sort of thing?”
“She was married. Her husband, Steve, was a New York firefighter. Unfortunately, he was inside one of the towers trying to save people when it came down on 9/11. As far as I know, they didn’t have any children.”
New York City Murders Page 2
