Crime Scene - CSI Reilly Steel Prequel

by Casey Hill

  “Yes good job, everyone,” said Rob. “That’ll do it for today. You have a little time before your next class, so if you want to take a look at the recording of alley exercise or the alley itself, you’re welcome to do so, although you’ll be doing a full critique of the footage in your tactical analysis class tomorrow. Jake will go pull up the footage, so if you’re interested, follow him. I’ll stay here to answer any questions about the exercise or the alley itself.” Rob caught Reilly’s eye and she subtly indicated she wanted to stay in the alley. He indicated his agreement and she quickly began to look around the scene of the exercise.

  Moving through debris and trash, she made her way to site of the first flash powder blast. Inspecting the area, she noted the flash pattern on the cement, then moved into the building from where the ‘bomb’ came. She looked around the room, then exited, moving towards the site of the second blast.

  Reilly kicked at the debris where the subject had been standing when he ‘detonated’ the blast. The live subject had been holding a dummy detonator, Reilly remembered. She investigated the area, but found nothing of importance on the ground. As she began to inspect the rusty truck the subject had used for a shield, Rob, who had been moving around the area speaking to various students, arrived at her side.

  “Ms. Steel,” he greeted her and she returned the greeting with a brief nod. “That was a great exercise. I know it only lasted a few minutes, but it was very intense. So what are you looking for?”

  “I remember the suspect detonated the second flash using what I assume was a dummy detonator?”

  Rob shook his head. “No, that charge actually was a little more than just flash — we used an actual detonator for that one. Something the guys in the lab are perfecting — making a wireless detonator that’s compact, sturdy, and conceal . . .” His voice trailed off as he noticed Reilly’s wide-eyed expression. “What is it?” he uttered quietly.

  “Help me find that detonator,” she replied, hunting with renewed fervor through the debris at her feet. Looking around for nearby students then leaning closer to Rob, she whispered, “The hidden room controls in the house. I bet . . .” Now her voice trailed off as she focused fully on her search.

  Leaving Rob to the ground, she stood and tried to replay the scene of the second explosion in her mind — the suspect had squatted behind the front end of the rusty pickup, then rose to his feet and detonated the blast. The mechanism in his hand was box-like. She remembered seeing the suspect hit with a dye mark, and he went down. Moving to the front of the pickup, she began to search the area. After a few minutes, she found the control box inside the rusty front. The suspect must have dropped it at the perfect angle for it to fall into the crevice of the large, double-bar metal bumper. Retrieving the box, she called Rob over.

  “As I suspected,” she said certain that she’d hit on something relevant to their visit to the house the night before, “it’s a hinged box with the control panel inside. And it opens kind of like a book.”

  Chapter 12

  At the end of the day, Reilly and Faye went directly to Rob’s house. This time, Jake greeted them at the door. “He went out to pick up some food,” he informed them. “Should be back any time now. Do you want something to drink?”

  Both women opted for sodas, but this time, Reilly asked for one with no caffeine.

  Jake chuckled at that. “So you’ve already been a victim of the ‘FBI Recruit Insidious Caffeine Increase’?” he joked. “We all go through it. You’ll find that lots of caffeine is an occupational hazard, though you’re smart to avoid it when you can. Otherwise, you can get kind of immune to it. Rob used to work with this one agent who drank so much coffee when he worked for a PD that by the time he got to the Bureau, drinking coffee made him fall asleep.”

  The three of them chatted about trivial things while they waited for Rob. He arrived shortly and the group settled down to a meal of chicken, side dishes, and dinner rolls. Everyone was hungry, so they ate mostly in silence, punctuated by compliments about the chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy.

  After they’d finished eating and cleaning up all four retired to Rob’s living room.

  “I found out the victim’s cause of death,” Rob informed them. “He probably could have gotten up and walked away from the fall except for one thing — he was a hemophiliac.”

  Reilly nodded, thinking that his sudden death from such a short fall now made sense. “Not only did the disorder make him bleed excessively when injured, he was also in danger of developing brain aneurisms if he fell. The coroner found one in his brain from a previous fall, probably sustained while playing sports in high school or college. Apparently, when he hit the ground Saturday night, the aneurism burst and the victim died almost instantly, which is why there wasn’t much blood from the head wound.”

  “Wow,” said Faye. “So it really was kind of a freak accident. Poor guy.”

  Rob brought his laptop over and showed them the footage from Jake’s apartment the night before. They all agreed that the individual at the door fit his description of the unsub at the party.

  Faye then explained to Jake about the articles and photo of him online.

  “Damn it,” he spat, “So much for lying low.”

  “I found out some other interesting information,” Faye continued, relaying what she’d learned about the Halvorsens and their connection to Barbara Smith.

  “What do you mean, she could be his birth mother?” Jake queried, puzzled.

  Faye filled in the blanks. “Well, Big Jack married his wife about 8 months before Junior was born,” she said. “There’s no searchable records on this, I’m guessing because Big Jack is good at covering his tracks, but too many other things add up for it not to be the case. Barbara Smith was Big Jack’s administrative assistant; she was hired right after Jack started the company with money he borrowed from his soon-to-be father-in-law, a wealthy rancher named William Parker Hobson. Big Jack’s fiancé, Sarah Hobson, had convinced her father a mere 6 months before to lend Big Jack the capital for his enterprise. Everything was going fine; then suddenly, Barbara was laid off with a generous package that included some stock options. About a year later, Big Jack sold the company, and the handful of stockholders which included Barbara made a fortune. Shortly thereafter, she bought the house. But for several months prior to the sale of her stock, she virtually disappeared.

  “About six months before the company sold, Sarah and Big Jack, who’d married shortly before Barbara was laid off, decided to adopt a child. That child was Junior.” Faye paused, then continued, “I just can’t see any other reason for a secretary, even a really good one, to score a stock option layoff package after only a year and a half of employment, especially when it was already obvious that such a package would be worth a lot of money when the company sold. There was also three month’s pay included, but that wouldn’t have supported Barbara for an entire year, and there are no records of her working for several months following the layoff. And the timing for the adoption is suspicious too — about nine months after Big Jack and Sarah were married? I can’t help but think that someone was paying Barbara’s expenses for a while so she could stay home — and no one would realize she was pregnant, nor would anyone find out she’d given birth.”

  “So you think Big Jack had an affair with Barbara, got her pregnant, and paid her off to disappear for a while then let him and his new wife adopt the baby once it was born,” Jake concluded.

  “It seems like the only logical conclusion.”

  “Okham’s Razor,” Reilly said, glancing at Rob who preached the philosophy on a daily basis. “If you remove the impossible, whatever remains however improbable, must be the truth. So if Junior is Barbara’s son,” she pondered, “was he part of the argument at the party? Did it have something to do with Barbara?”

  Jake shook his head. “From what I can remember, it didn’t seem that way. I didn’t hear much of the details but it sounded more like a personal beef between two guys. I don’t know…�
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  “OK so let’s recap what we do know,” Rob suggested, taking out a notepad and pen. “First of all, we know that the guy who pushed our victim was tall, dark-haired with a craggy face and heavy brows, wearing dark clothes and heavy boots. Anything else come back to you about him, Jake?”

  He shook his head. “I’ve thought it over and over again, and again I’m almost certain he wasn’t at the party before I saw him in the master bedroom upstairs.”

  “Suggesting, like we thought,” Reilly commenting, “that he didn’t come through the front door, but used a small ladder to access the balcony. I am guessing the sliding door had to be unlocked, because there’s no evidence to the contrary. That indicates a prior arrangement, if you ask me.”

  Everyone nodded in agreement, and Rob continued, “As far as Bill the victim is concerned, all witness statements agree that he drank, talked, interacted little and seemed to come from nowhere. No one mentioned knowing him previously. Then suddenly, he’s upstairs in the master bedroom with this craggy-faced stranger, and after a brief but intense argument, he winds up dead and the other guy is nowhere to be found.” He paused a moment, then added, “I think our best course of action at this point would be to find out more about Bill, and research any connection to the homeowner. Faye, did you come across any mention of a “Bill” or “William” associated with Junior?”

  She thought for a moment, then replied, “Not off the top of my head, but then again I wasn’t really looking for that. I can scan through my information again though. I saved it, and I have the USB drive with me. It’s in the car.” She grabbed her keys.

  “My camera’s in there, too,” Reilly said. “In the glovebox. Can you get it for me? I’d like to take another look at the pictures I took at the crime scene.”

  “Be right back.”

  Rob went to call Mayridge and find out if the police had learned any more about the victim and his background. While he did so, Jake asked Reilly, “So how are you finding training so far?”

  “I’m loving every minute,” she replied enthusiastically. “I’m learning so much, though I’m a little short on sleep.” She chuckled, “And there was this asshole VirtSim instructor the first week . . .”

  He shook his head, smiling. “Are you ever going to let me live that down?”

  “Probably not.”

  “Actually, now that I think of it, I want to pick your brains about something,” he said, in a confiding tone.

  Reilly looked at him. “Oh, what’s that?”

  “Do you think Faye might let me take her out sometime? She’s great.”

  And maybe Jake Callahan wasn’t such a jerk after all.

  Chapter 13

  “I just talked to the chief,” Rob said, coming back into the room. “They’ve now formally identified the victim. His name is William Thompson.”

  “Great, at least now we have a starting place,” said Reilly.

  “How about we divide and conquer?” Rob suggested. “Faye, since you’re our resident super computer sleuth, will you do the honors and chase up some info on our victim William Thompson? You can use my laptop.”

  “No problem.”

  Reilly spoke up. “I’m going to go over the photos of the bookcase at crime scene and see if I can figure out which book might be hiding the controls to that secret room. I’m certain there’s one there. It might not have anything to do with the crime, but if I can figure it out, at least we can tell the police and they can investigate it.”

  Rob nodded, and said, “In the meantime, I’ll run through the trace samples and see if anything strikes me. Jake, would you mind scanning the feeds from your place again? I went by earlier during a break in my day and set up a camera on your car. I know it’s kind of after the fact, but maybe we’ll catch something anyway.” Jake agreed, and the group settled in to work.

  An hour passed before anyone paused in their work or spoke.

  Then Rob looked up. “Why don’t we take a little break? I know I could use one.”

  After they’d reassembled, Reilly began updating the others on what she’d been doing. “I had a hunch on campus earlier about the control box for the secret room. When Rob and I were at the crime scene, we couldn’t find any control or mechanism that allowed access, so we figured it was very well hidden — possibly remote, or both. Then today, after the exercise at Hogan’s Alley, I was poking around the scene and something Rob said about a remote used for one of the flash blasts struck me. Once we found the remote device from the exercise, I was certain — one of the books must be a fake. Inside are the controls to the room. So I decided to look over my shots from the bookcase area in the master bedroom. When we explored the crime scene, I noticed several books on the floor and assumed they’d been pulled out of the bookcase during the fight. After all, the table was knocked over.” She passed around the relevant photos for the others to see and get a sense of the crime scene. “I ruled out books being stacked on the table prior to the fight, mostly because the table was small and there were several books, so it didn’t seem logical they’d fallen from there. Looking again, I still believe that’s true; however, I think the doer knew about the secret room controls, and pulled some books out of the bookcase while looking for the correct one.”

  “You think he was in there alone and maybe Bill interrupted him?” Jake mused.

  “That’s what I’m guessing.”

  Faye looked thoughtful. “Not to get overly personal, Jake, but how long do you think you were in the bathroom?”

  Jake thought for a moment. “Well, I always wash my hands after I use the restroom, so probably two, three minutes tops.”

  “Do you remember if the sliding patio door was open when you entered the room?” Reilly asked.

  He thought about it again. “I don’t think so. I wasn’t looking that direction, but I don’t recall feeling any wind or hearing any ‘outdoor’ noises if you know what I mean. So I’m pretty confident it was closed.”

  “If you didn’t hear anything outside, either the man in black wasn’t there yet, or he was lying in wait,” Reilly mused. “He could have been just outside the door on the balcony, or in the room crouched down out of sight for all we know.”

  “Yikes,” Faye said, shuddering. “Our unsub in the room, watching and waiting for Jake to leave . . . What if Bill hadn’t come in? He could have gone for Jake instead.”

  Jake looked fondly at her. “Don’t worry, I can take care of myself.”

  Looking embarrassed now, Faye cleared her throat. “Well, I was able to find out who Bill is — or was, I guess,” she said. “At first I couldn’t find much on William Thompson – I don’t have a social security number or property records and since his is a fairly common name, identifying the correct William Thompson that way wasn’t going to work. Since no police reports mentioned him, I decided to cross-reference the name with Barbara Smith’s records.” Her eyes shone with enthusiasm and Reilly realized that her friend was born for this kind of work.

  “It took a bit of digging, but I found Will Thompson, a former boyfriend I guess, who lived with Barbara for about ten years after the whole Jack/Junior affair. I am assuming that it was shortly after she purchased this house, because ten years ago, Will Thompson used to work for a company that specialized in safety and security equipment. Guess what their specialty was?” She paused for dramatic effect and smiled. “Panic rooms.”

  “What’s a panic room?” Jake asked, looking blank.

  “What – you never saw the movie?” Faye teased.

  “It’s a dedicated room for use in case of an attack or intrusion,” Reilly told him. “They’re state-of-the art, usually contain a cot, some provisions, emergency first aid supplies, and a dedicated emergency line. And most importantly from our point of view, they’re accessed by a hidden control that once activated, can only be opened from the inside.

  “Exactly,” Faye agreed. “And one of the most popular customised features is a safe.”

  “Is that’s what the
man in black was looking for – the safe?” Jake pondered. “So are we talking an interrupted robbery then? What was he trying to steal?”

  Faye continued. “While looking into Barbara’s history, I happened upon some recent financial information. The house has two mortgages and with current property values, she’s upside-down. She also takes a lot of trips most of which over the last couple of years have managed to travel through or wind up in Las Vegas. I smell a gambling problem ….”

  Rob nodded. “Good work all round guys, lots to think about. Mayridge knows I’m taking a look at everything in addition to his team, and I’ve promised to update him on any findings. I’ll give him a call now.” He checked his watch. “But it’s late and you guys have another busy day ahead. Go home, catch a few hours and we’ll put our heads together again tomorrow, maybe head down to the station and talk to Mayridge directly.”

  Reilly was disappointed. She’d stay up all night, sifting through evidence, imagining possibilities and hopefully finding answers. For her, the closer they were getting to a breakthrough, the more addictive the hunt was becoming.

  Chapter 14

  The following day on campus, although rigorous, dragged on for Reilly.

  She was anxious and nervous about visiting the police station. The information they’d gathered was valuable, and meetings with police chiefs and investigative teams everywhere would be commonplace for her once she became a full-fledged agent, so she figured she might as well get used to it. One thing was for sure, she guessed it would be a million miles from her last visit to a police station, where she’d needed to formally identify her mother’s body…

  When training was over, Faye and Reilly took a quick jaunt to their dorm to freshen up then headed over to Rob’s house, who informed them the chief would see them in about an hour’s time.