David Wolf 01 - Foreign Deceit

by Jeff Carson

  “Ricardo and I have been taking care of forensics for the last hour. The anonymous caller must have been in here, and who knows how many people he was with. We’ve had no officers come in here, on my order. But there are footprints everywhere.”

  Wolf agreed, surveying the immediate vicinity. Little yellow A-framed plastic evidence indicators were strewn about in an illogical display—a bent twig here, a foot print there, a cigarette-butt too old to be relevant.

  But no matter what Wolf thought, he had to admit this was a difficult, if not impossible, scene to read. The rainstorm that hit while they ate pizza yesterday had hit this area as well, and had drenched the body. It was sopping wet underfoot. The deluge of rain could have washed away numerous pieces of evidence. Still, a few things caught Wolf’s eye.

  The most definitive being two cattail reeds at Rosenwald’s hip. They were bent twice, which was completely unnatural—physically impossible without the help of human intention—bent once when the body fell on them, and another time when the killer bent them back up, ostensibly to ensure better concealment of the body.

  Which indicated he was probably dumped here after he was killed. Which indicated that he probably wasn’t killed here. Which told him a crime scene was still out there to be looked at.

  “Estimated time of death?” Wolf asked.

  Rossi looked at Wolf with tired, bloodshot eyes. “Looks like three, maybe four, days. Nothing definite. But Ricardo says most likely over the weekend. Could have been sometime Friday night.”

  “Underneath? What’s it look like?” Wolf pointed and bent down.

  Rossi barked to the forensics officer to come over. They rolled the body to the side and looked underneath. Lia put her hand on Wolf’s shoulder and got down to look with them. Rossi put on gloves, and pulled the body to the side with the forensic specialist.

  Underneath, a mat of leaves, grass and branches were stuck to the back of Rosenwald’s head.

  A fresh waft of death and decay filled Wolf’s nostrils with the movement of the body.

  Dark brown dried blood stains covered the back of Rosenwald’s neck, shirt, and the underlying vegetation.

  “Blood on the vegetation underneath. The blood coagulated around the grass, sticks, and leaves behind his head. Looks like he was dumped soon after he was killed. The blood was still flowing down his neck, not yet coagulated.”

  “Yes,” Rossi said. “That’s what I was thinking as well. So we swept the scene, couldn’t find a weapon.”

  Wolf was looking in the distance through the thick brush. Just past the group officers, now smoking and pantomiming soccer plays, the silver reflection off the observatory dome winked at them through the trees. No more than a few hundred yards away.

  “There,” Wolf said, pointing. “Is there a path from here to the observatory?”

  “Wolf,” Rossi said pulling off a glove and touching his shoulder. “Let me finish, my friend. We have been here for over three hours surveying the scene. I have found out much. We couldn’t find a murder weapon here, but, yes. We followed the trail to the observatory.” He walked back toward the narrow trail. “Come.”

  …

  They followed Rossi down the narrow trail, to a small path that joined from the right. An officer stood guard of the narrower-still pathway, staring at the screen of his phone. Rossi grunted an order at the officer, and he looked up from his phone with a red face, then pocketed it quickly.

  Pieces of orange ribbon were tied in small bows in various spots on the limbs. Rossi stopped at one and pointed to it, then moved to another and pointed. There were rust-colored bloodstains, not washed off by any recent rainstorms, sheltered by the dense foliage above.

  They hiked up a small rise, slapping mosquitoes and pushing aside branches, and broke through to a farm road that led toward the observatory in the distance. Tall corn stalks with fat cobs lined both sides of the road.

  Another couple officers with two German Shepherds were fifty yards ahead, talking on the top of the rise.

  When they reached them Rossi stopped and turned to Wolf and Lia.

  “The dogs found a weapon here,” Rossi gestured toward the side of the dirt road. Both dogs growled, one of them barked with teeth bared, slobber flinging from its lips. The dog yelped as the officer ripped it back, following with a sharp smack on the top of its head.

  Rossi yelled at the two officers, who pulled the now crouching dogs away to the observatory. He bent down and pointed closely at a tubular groove in the mud.

  “The dogs found a copper pipe here on the ground. It had large amounts of blood on it still on the underside, and fingerprints. I’ve had it taken for identification. We should know shortly whose they are,” he said.

  “Good,” said Wolf. “About time we come up with some useful evidence. So, otherwise, the dogs didn’t pick up any other scent here?”

  “No, but they picked up a scent on the grounds of the observatory, even after the rains.” Rossi raised his eyebrows and exhaled. “It looks to be where Rosenwald was killed. Then it looks like he was dragged down here, the weapon ditched in the corn here, then the body dropped down where we found him.” He pointed back to the lake.

  The lawn of the observatory was even more unruly than Wolf had remembered, with foot and a half long grasses, weeds and wildflowers making it difficult to for Wolf to walk without lifting his feet high with each step. It was damp, too, squishing with each step, holding moisture from yesterday’s downpour or an over-zealous lawn watering, or both.

  Other than the unkempt lawn, it was a meticulously manicured yard space. There were rounded bushes of all kinds in all sorts of smooth shapes. Vines clung to the rear of the entire building and the exterior of the rounded dome by design—some touches Wolf hadn’t paused to admire the night before.

  Rossi led them past a familiar spot. Wolf saw two wide skid marks in the lawn. He looked at Lia and to the marks as they walked by.

  She followed his eyes and nodded.

  Rossi continued, unaware of Wolf and Lia’s exchange, toward a large circle of crime scene tape. “Here is the spot,” Rossi pointed as he came to a stop. “The dogs located a lot of blood in the lawn here. It seems to be where he was killed with the pipe.”

  Yellow evidence A-frames were everywhere inside the perimeter, numbered all the way to thirty-five.

  Wolf grabbed the tape and ducked halfway under, “Can we go in?”

  Rossi looked hesitant, then nodded and ducked under the tape. “It’s wet. Good choice of shoes you brought to Italy.” He looked at Wolf’s old, leather, work boots. “Keep close to me.”

  Wolf followed, and stole a glance toward the area of the perimeter fence he’d hopped last night. The clothing he’d used to aid his climb over was gone.

  Rossi led the way through the soggy lawn, their feet sucking and sloshing with each step. Mud patches were visible at the roots of the lawn. Wolf bent down next to a small yellow plastic A-frame evidence indicator. It was almost impossible to discern any difference between the spot and the surrounding area, all except a tiny shard of white. Another nearby A-frame tent marked a larger piece, this time with skin and hair on it.

  “The dogs were going nuts in this spot. The forensics team found a lot of skull fragments. The largest concentration is there,” Rossi said pointing at the number one plastic indicator. “That is a large concentration area of blood.”

  Wolf stepped to the area and crouched down, looking intently. He imagined the A-frame to be Dr. Rosenwald’s head, then imagined his body lying out. He swept his gaze in a tight spiral around the marker, working his way out.

  Five feet from the evidence marker at two o’clock, a pair of indentions captured his eye. Wolf stepped over and felt the ground. There were two holes, just about the size of knees. He could see it clearly in his mind’s eye. Dr. Rosenwald had knelt down right here and received his first blow to the side of his head.

  He’d probably been hit once, fell to his side, and then was finished off with numerous b
lows to the head, right at the number-one evidence marker. Wolf knew there would be chunks of skull, brain matter, and blood strewn everywhere. Probably under the soles of his boots.

  He stood up and shuffled to the side, feeling another slight depression under his foot. Massaging the ground with his hands, he found two more depressions a few feet from the others. Realization sent a jolt of electricity up his spine. The mud circles on John’s jeans now made perfect sense. His eyes closed slowly as he felt the knee depressions where his brother had taken his last conscious breath.

  Rossi’s phone beeped in the tone of a police siren from within his pocket. He pulled it out and opened it. “Pronto?”

  Rossi held up a finger to them and meandered his way back to toward the crime scene tape.

  Lia knelt down next to Wolf. “What are you doing?”

  “Remember those circles on the knees of my brother’s jeans?”

  “Yes?”

  “There were similar circles on Rosenwald’s jeans, but less noticeable. Probably from being out in the rain.” Wolf lifted his hands and pointed down. “There are four indentations right here on the ground. Two for each man who knelt down.”

  Lia let out a gasp and bent down to see for herself. “Ma-donna.”

  “Have you spoken to anyone at the observatory yet?” Wolf stood up, turning to Rossi.

  Rossi was twenty yards away with his phone to the ear, looking at Wolf with wide eyes and propping an index finger. He looked to the trees and asked some sharp questions, then closed the phone, keeping his head bowed for a few seconds. He pocketed the phone and looked to Wolf with a pained expression.

  “What?”

  “That was forensics at the station. They have the fingerprints match on the pipe.”

  “Let me guess. A Romanian national.”

  “No Sergeant Wolf,” he said with a deep breath. “They are your brother’s fingerprints.”

  Chapter 33

  “What?” Wolf’s face flushed and a splash of molten lead hit his stomach.

  “They are your brother’s fingerprints.” Rossi folded his arms and looked to his feet.

  Lia put her hand on Wolf’s shoulder.

  Wolf and Lia walked to Rossi, looked back at the evidence tents strewn about, then ducked underneath the crime tape.

  Wolf walked slowly away to the observatory gate, turning his head to look at the skid marks as he passed. He continued on through the gate and out onto the dirt road, turning back toward the lake, toward the way they’d just come.

  Rossi and Lia followed in silence, keeping their distance from Wolf.

  Wolf continued until he reached the groove in the mud where the pipe was found and swiveled around. “This is too perfect.”

  Rossi and Lia stopped and looked at him with neutral expressions. Silence enveloped them as Wolf bent to study the impression in the mud.

  Finally Wolf stood and faced them. “My brother’s has been framed for the murder.”

  Rossi blinked and looked to the ground at his feet. Lia shifted uncomfortably and lowered her gaze, too.

  As Wolf watched them avert their eyes, his impatience mounted. “So let me get this straight. He beats his friend to death, then drags him down here along the road, leaving the copper pipe right here for anyone to find. Why not throw it out in the cornfield at least? Or a better idea … toss it in the lake. The same lake he’s about to dump the body into.”

  Lia pointed toward the lake, “David—”

  “No, I’m not buying it,” he said, shaking his head. “There are just too many questions that don’t add up to anything. You just felt those indents in the ground, Lia. And you saw the marks on his jeans. My brother was kneeling down next to Rosenwald and got hit by this same pipe.” Wolf pointed to the ground and glared at them.

  “Okay, let’s completely ignore that fact, and say my brother beat Rosenwald to death. Why lug the body all the way down there to the lake? And why does he dump the body and then go kill himself at home?” Wolf looked up to the sky, “Here’s a good question … How did my brother get home? If he killed Rosenwald, then how did he get home? There’s no way he walked. His girlfriend said she heard the crash at 1:15 a.m. that morning. There’s no way he went home on foot, he wouldn’t have made it in time. I’ll tell you how he got home. His body was removed from this lawn, by someone else, and taken to his apartment to be strung up on a chandelier, that’s how.”

  “He could have taken Rosenwald’s car,” Lia offered.

  Rossi stared at Wolf.

  Wolf turned his back and kicked a small rock into the corn stalks. “Okay, yeah. We need to account for the car.” He closed his eyes and tilted his head into the warm sun, listening to the insects hiss all around them.

  Wolf turned. “We need to go talk to Vlad in the observatory. He said the reason he wasn’t at the bar with them that night was because he was at work. So, let’s ask him what he saw. If he was here, then he can tell us what happened. You don’t just miss a blow out argument between two guys that ends in a murder in the back yard, do you? It’s beyond suspicious.”

  Rossi raised an eyebrow and nodded his head, looking to Lia.

  “And you don’t know everything yet, Rossi,” Wolf said pushing past him. “This guy, Ferka Vlad, is involved in cocaine and electronics smuggling with the owner of a Romanian pub in Lecco named Cezar. His pub is called The Albastru Pub, you heard of it?”

  Rossi looked stunned. “Well, yeah. I have. Wait—”

  “I was here last night. I saw the truck they were packing with stolen computers and drugs. A truck that said Albastru Shipping on it. I actually looked in the back of the truck and saw what had to be a hundred or more stolen computers. I ripped open a white cardboard box and saw what looked to be cocaine. There were at least ten of those boxes. It was dark. There could have been many more.”

  “When were you going to tell me all of this?” Rossi held out his hands.

  Wolf blinked and shrugged. “There hasn’t exactly been a good time this morning for me to tell you.”

  Rossi shot Lia a questioning look.

  She shrugged her shoulders. “What?”

  “Last night I was shot at and chased by this guy, Cezar, in his truck.” Wolf stopped and looked at them. “The way I see it happening that night is, my brother and Rosenwald have a few drinks at The Albastru Pub and head here to the observatory, to take a look in the telescope. At Jupiter, apparently. We have proof of that. Things go sour at some point, sour because of Cezar and Vlad. Maybe my brother and Rosenwald saw exactly what I saw last night, them packing drugs and stolen computers in a truck. Whatever the exact situation, they somehow see something they shouldn’t have, and Vlad and Cezar know they can’t un-see it. Now that my brother and Matthew are a liability, Cezar deals with them the only way he knows how.

  “They take them out back, force them to kneel down. But gunshots could raise some alarm from the neighbors, so they get a pipe. Some words are said, and Cezar flies off the handle, beating Rosenwald’s head in.

  “Maybe Vlad injects some calm, scientific reasoning in the situation. They know getting rid of the two bodies is going to be hard, so they leverage a little deception. They decide to frame my brother for the murder. My brother is hit on the head with the same pipe, and then strangled with one of their belts. It wouldn’t have been Cezar’s belt, he’s too skinny. Ferka Vlad,” he said pointing toward the dome with a steeled expression. “Ferka Vlad is a man with an ample belly.”

  “Okay. Then they take your brother back to his apartment and string him up?” Rossi asked with a tilted head. “How do they bring the dead body in the apartment building?”

  “On a Friday night? They carry him in,” Wolf shrugged. “Anyone who sees thinks he’s drunk and his buddies are bringing him in. They could have pulled right up to the gate in a car, brought him in, and strung him up. Then they make sure Rosenwald’s body can be found in due time, and the weapon is left here in plain sight, with my brother’s fingerprints on it. They
probably figured my brother would be out of the country in a box before too long anyway, making the case even more complicated to figure out for you guys.”

  “How did they get your brother back to his apartment?” asked Lia. “That would have been a tough situation. How do they know where he lives?”

  Wolf continued walking in front of them. “Maybe Vlad knew my brother better than we thought. Maybe he’d been there before.” Wolf thought of Cristina, John’s girl friend. A Romanian too. Was there a connection?

  “It seems to fit, but there is still no evidence. We just have your word of what you saw last night, and …” Rossi shrugged with an apologetic smile. “We have to have something solid, David.”

  “Well, then let’s go talk to Vlad and get something solid.”

  Chapter 34

  Vlad sagged in the desk chair sipping on a Coke Lite when he saw them approach the office doorway. A puzzled, startled expression briefly contorted his face, and he coughed a mist of Coke into the air.

  “Vlad, how are you doing today?” Wolf said as he briskly entered Vlad’s grungy, disorderly office.

  “David, please.” Rossi grabbed Wolf’s shoulder from behind and eased past him. “Let me handle this. We need to keep this official.”

  Rossi reached out and took the Coke can from Vlad’s quivering hand, clanked it on the desk, and swiveled Vlad’s chair so the two men were face-to-face.

  Vlad looked into Rossi’s eyes with horrid fascination as Rossi placed his hand on Vlad’s chest. Vlad looked at Wolf and then at Lia with a pleading expression, searching their faces for an explanation of their presence.

  With a violent movement and the sound of ripping fabric, Rossi twisted Vlad’s shirt, pulled him out of the chair, and pushed him against the window. The aluminum blinds clanged against the thick window, letting in haphazard rays of sun.

  “You were here on Friday night. And yet you told these two that you did not see anything at all.”

  Vlad looked confused, then nodded his head quickly. “Y-y-yes, sir. I didn’t see anything! I was working all night Friday in my office —”