by Matt Lincoln
I leaned against the bathroom door frame, analyzing every bit of information I’d absorbed.
She wasn’t kidding, I thought to myself. This is a nasty one.
8
Junior
I would never admit it to Hills, or to anyone for that matter, but there was a small part of me that was a tiny bit disappointed that by the time we got there, the cougar had gone. Of course, it would be gone. Logic dictated that it would be impossible for anyone to investigate the crime scene safely while there was a wild animal loose in the apartment, so of course, animal control had already come and taken it away somewhere. Still, the idea of a South American wildcat in a residential apartment was so outrageous, even for Las Vegas, the epicenter of all things outrageous, that it was a little anticlimactic to arrive at the apartment only to discover that it had already gone. I was also a little curious as to what had happened to it. Surely it wouldn’t be put down or anything like that, right? After all, it wasn’t the cat’s fault that it had become a pawn in some crime organization's scheme. That would just be the epitome of injustice, for an animal to be ripped from its home, carted overseas, and then killed just for trying to defend itself against some completely unfamiliar threat.
Wallace had told us that the body had been mauled but, even knowing what that word meant, I hadn’t stopped to think what the aftermath might look like. That said, I couldn’t let it affect me. I had a job to do, and so I carefully stepped around the body and the various evidence markers that had been laid out on the floor by the police officers. I turned to Hills and was about to tell him that I was going to head into the bedroom, but stopped when I noticed how intense his demeanor suddenly seemed. His eyes had begun darting around the room, and I could tell he was hard at work thinking about something. He seemed completely in his element, and whatever was going on inside his mind, I didn’t want to interrupt.
I made my way into the man’s bedroom, which the police detectives didn’t appear to have entered. It seemed as though they’d only gotten as far as covering the living room before we’d arrived. I was actually happy about this. It wasn’t as though I thought the police might damage anything, as Detective Anderson had seemed competent, and I had been a police officer myself, but just because I preferred working with a ‘clean slate.’ I carefully made my way through each part of the bedroom, taking note of anything that seemed out of the ordinary. For the most part, nothing stuck out until I found an unmarked gray package containing several glass vials of clear, yellow liquid. The vials were marked Φαιντανύλη, along with some other, smaller text in a language I didn’t recognize. A handwritten note inside the package read:
2.0 ml per night. Wait until sleeping.
I knew instantly this was something significant, so I pulled a plastic bag out of the tote I was carrying and carefully deposited the package into it, making sure to set into my bag in a way that wouldn’t result in the vials cracking or breaking.
After that, I continued my search of the room, finding nothing else of note until I made it to the closet where tucked to one side and almost out of view were several dresses and a few sets of women’s clothes. If the man had a wife or girlfriend, she was as yet unaccounted for and could potentially have pertinent information to offer us. If nothing else, we should inform her that her significant other was dead.
Under that assumption, I left the bedroom and moved instead toward the bathroom where I could see Agent Hills crouched on the floor, examining something. I stepped into the bathroom and pulled open the medicine cabinet, where my suspicions were confirmed when I discovered two toothbrushes as well as an orange bottle of prescription medicine belonging to someone named Carmen Moreno.
“Victim had a girlfriend,” I told Hills, making a note of the address on the bottle. “There're clothes in the bedroom closet and a few toiletries in here too. She could be a lead. If nothing else, we should inform her of what’s happened.” I turned to look at Hills, who was nodding to show he was listening but still looking intently at the ground.
“What have you got?” I asked, moving to peer over his shoulder.
“This is definitely where he was keeping the cat since there’s sh- droppings all over the place,” Hills said, although he sounded like he was tempted to say something else. I couldn’t blame him, as the smell here was atrocious. Once again, I felt a jolt of sympathy for the poor cougar, having to live in a tiny room surrounded by piles of its own excrement and urine.
“Plus, there are scratch marks everywhere too. It looks like he just shoved the whole shipping container into the bathroom since there are still pieces of it scattered everywhere. Cat probably tore it up out of boredom. Or anger. Anyway, there’s Greek writing all over the crate-”
“Greek?” I interrupted before thinking better of it and tried to ignore the annoyed look Hills shot me. “I thought preliminary intelligence indicated it came from South America?”
“Well, this shipping information is definitely in Greek, according to this translating app,” said Hills, holding his phone out to me for emphasis.
Of course! How could I miss something so obvious?
“What does this say?” I asked in return, pulling the package with the vials out of my bag. “I found them in the victim’s bedroom.”
Hills pointed his phone toward the vials, and the app began to scan the words, focusing on the one with the largest lettering.
“Fentanyl? Damn, that’s a really powerful tranquilizer,” said Hills, as the app finished its scan and gave us our answer.
“So, it’s pretty clear then that someone shipped the cougar here from Greece,” I said, summarizing all the information we had obtained thus far. “We still need to go through the phone and speak with the woman downstairs who made the initial 911 call. And we might have a lead as far as the girlfriend goes. After all, if she lives here even part-time, it’s possible she saw the cougar or at least knows how or when it got here.”
“That sounds about right. Are you ready to go speak to the woman who called?” Hills asked, getting up off the floor where he had crouched and taking a moment to stretch his back and legs.
“Sounds good to me,” I said, walking toward the front door of the apartment and then out into the outside hallway. I waited for Hills to come out before turning and closing the apartment door.
We walked back down the stairs silently, each of us no doubt still digesting the information we’d learned. I could hear voices through the thin walls of the apartment as we approached one-seventeen where the woman lived. According to the information Nelson had given us before we departed from the office, her name was Maude, and she was in her seventies. Apparently, she had called a few times over the past week reporting similar instances of hearing roars and claiming there were wild animals in the apartment above, but they had dismissed her. The police had assumed he was just a crazy old lady who was exaggerating. It made me mad to think about how it was often the people who needed the most help and support that society was so quick to dismiss.
I knocked on the door and heard the voices inside cease for a moment before there was the small sound of footsteps approaching the entrance. A moment later, the door opened to reveal a small, friendly looking woman with a warm smile and wiry, graying hair. She had golden eyes that were both striking and sharp, and I thought that there was nothing about this woman that seemed crazy or unaware. From behind her, I could see a pair of men in police uniforms sitting on the couch. The older one had the stern, weathered look of someone who’d been on the job perhaps a little too long, although there was something else etched across the features of his face that I couldn’t quite make out from this distance. It looked like concern, or maybe guilt. Next to him sat an officer who was significantly younger and who I might have mistaken for a teenager had it not been for his uniform, considering how clean-cut and wide-eyed he seemed. He was clutching a cup of something, maybe tea, and his eyes and nose were bloodshot as if he had been crying. I felt a pang of sympathy, and I wondered if maybe th
at’s what the older officer had seemed so concerned about.
“I’m Agent Chapman, and this is Agent Hills. We’re federal agents of MBLIS. We’re taking over jurisdiction of the case that you called about this morning. I was wondering if we could ask for some of your time?” I took over most of the talking, as Hills seemed like the type of agent who was more suited to the action and crime scene analysis aspects of the job. I didn’t mind at all, as I liked talking to people and was willing to split duties if it was beneficial for our partnership.
“Of course, sweetheart, you boys come on in. I’ll get some more teacups for you,” Maude said, guiding us toward the living room where the two police officers sat and shuffling off to the small kitchenette to get the aforementioned tea.
I sat down and looked over at the two officers.
“You were the responding officer on this case. Officer Baxter, right?” I asked the younger one, who looked up at me with a startled look on his face, as though he was surprised I was even speaking to him. Agent Nelson had told us that a rookie cop fresh out of the academy had discovered the body, and with how young he looked and how shaken up she seemed to be, it wasn’t hard to guess that this was probably him.
“Uh, yeah. I came to check on Maude, the one who called it in to 911. Anyway, I found the body and totally panicked,” he said, looking like he was about to start crying again. “I messed up the crime scene, and then I found the cougar. It lunged at me, but I managed to get the bathroom door closed in time, so…” he trailed off, his voice becoming meeker as he did.
“It lunged at you?” I asked, genuinely shocked, and a little impressed. “That’s pretty unbelievable, and you came out unscathed in the end. Why were you alone, though? Where was your partner?” I pointedly turned my eyes to look at the other officer, Gripp, according to the name tag embroidered on his uniform.
“Oh, well, Otto thought I’d be okay on my own, you know, since it was just a standard welfare check,” Officer Baxter said.
“That was pretty stupid,” I said before I could stop myself. Suddenly it was like all the air was sucked out of the room, and the momentary silence that followed burned in my ears. “Because it wasn’t a routine welfare check, was it? After all, it’s lucky that the cougar was in the bathroom when you found it. Otherwise, there wouldn’t have been a door there to stop it when it lunged at you. It’s just such a shame how many young, hopeful officers end up disillusioned, or hurt, or killed on the job because so many on the force see their work as more of a chore than a calling.”
Baxter wasn’t crying anymore, and Gripp was red in the face and looked like he was about to start yelling. Before he could, though, Maude returned.
“Alright, here you go, all nice and warm for you fellas,” she said, setting a tray loaded with cookies and teacups down in front of us.
“Actually, we really need to be getting back to the station now,” said Baxter, and to everyone’s surprise, his voice was clear and even. If it wasn’t for the red splotches spread over his cheeks and nose, you wouldn’t have known he’d been crying just a few moments earlier.
“Oh, well, I understand, honey,” Maude said, giving Baxter a pat on the back as she did. “I know all you boys are busy out there stopping bad guys and keeping the streets safe.”
“Thank you for everything, ma’am. It was kind of you. Come on, Otto, we need to get going,” he said in one smooth breath, and with that, he was up and striding quickly out the door.
Gripp seemed stunned but quickly recovered and stood up as he bade his farewell to Maude as well. He looked back at me for a moment as though he was considering whether he should say anything but seemed to think better of it and simply followed Baxter out the door.
“They sure left in a rush. I wonder if they got a call about another crime. These days it’s just one thing after another.” I could hear Maude talking to herself as she picked up their teacups and carried them back into the kitchen.
“Damn Junior, you sure didn’t pull any punches there,” I heard Hills say quietly, although he was smirking and seemed to be trying to hold back a laugh.
“Yeah, well, it was pretty crappy of Gripp to abandon his partner like that. I meant what I said. Cops like Gripp are the reason so many people don’t trust the police, and the reason so many young officers like Baxter end up hurt or worse,” I said, although now that the moment had gone and the rush of adrenaline was fading, I could feel my face getting red with embarrassment over what I’d done. It wasn’t like me to speak like that to people. I was so used to holding my tongue and acting friendly, even toward people who weren’t nice to me. Something about seeing poor Baxter sitting there so upset had gotten to me, though. He shouldn’t have had to deal with that crime scene alone.
“Alright, what did you two boys want to talk about?” Maude asked, now that she was back and settled in with her own cup of tea.
“We heard that today wasn’t the first time you called the police to report some suspicious noises upstairs. Can you tell us when this all first started?” I asked her.
“Well, let’s see. Today’s Monday, so I think it was last Tuesday. I was up early watching my shows, and I heard a truck pull up right outside my door. The lights were bright as anything, too, lit up my whole living room. Anyway, I go to the window and take a peek because it was still dark out, and usually people aren’t up and about until at least five in the morning. The only reason I’m up that early is that my show starts then. Anyway, I peek through the curtains, and I see a man and this younger fella pulling something out of the back of the truck. And I could just tell it was heavy cause the man and this young fella are struggling to get it out of there.”
She continued. “So, then my upstairs neighbor comes down and starts helping them get it out, and finally they do. And I think they’re about to take it on up to his unit, but then they start arguing instead. They start raising their voices, and I’m thinking that they’re gonna wake the whole building up, but then they stop, and the man and the young fella hop back in the truck and take off, and I see my neighbor go upstairs, then come back down with a dolly and haul that big ol’ box up there all on his own. Ever since then, I’ve heard the oddest noises, scratching and thumping and growling, and I think this fool’s gone and brought some kind of animal into this building!” Maude finished with a huff.
“Well, you weren’t wrong, ma’am,” I said to her, and she laughed.
“Sweetheart, I’ve been on this earth a long time, and I can admit when I’m wrong, but I knew I wasn’t wrong about this,” she said, shaking her head. “I kept calling the police ‘cause I just knew that fool would go and get himself killed if he kept messing around up there.”
“Well, I wish they’d listened to you sooner,” I said honestly. If they had, Everett would still be alive, and we might have more leads as to who was bringing the animals in. “Is there anything else you can remember that seemed out of the ordinary the past couple of days?”
Maude closed her eyes and seemed to be thinking. After a few moments, her eyes shot open. “Oh my, how could I forget!” she cried. “I’m sorry, honey, this old brain of mine, it does the strangest things sometimes. I didn’t even tell the other officers about this.”
“About what?” asked Hills, who up until now had been letting me take the lead on talking.
“Two nights ago, so not last night but the night before, his girlfriend came over,” Maude replied. “I could hear them arguing. I didn’t even think anything of it since they’re always arguing, but she seemed so angry. Usually, they’re both yelling back and forth, but that night it was just her. Screaming, so angry. ‘You moron,’ ‘how could you,’ stuff like that. I hardly paid it any mind at the time, thinking bonehead had probably cheated or something, but now that I think about it… Oh my, do you think that could mean something?” Maude was wide-eyed and seemed shaken, and I tried to reassure her.
“It might mean something, but it could also be nothing at all. Either way, you’ve been a huge help, Maude,�
�� I said to her, and she really had been. Thanks to her, we now had a basic timeline as well as another reason to go and see the girlfriend, Carmen.
After saying goodbye to Maude and giving her my business card in case she remembered or needed anything else, we left the apartment and headed toward the car.
“What do you think of the girlfriend?” I asked Hills once we were both inside.
“I think it’s pretty coincidental that she apparently had a pretty heated argument with Dean the day before they found him dead in his apartment,” he said, starting the car and reversing out of the parking space.
“Yeah, I think so too,” I said, thinking that the more we investigated, the more convoluted this case seemed to become.
9
Fiona
I had hit a roadblock. I’d spent the entire morning trying to locate any suspicious activity pertaining to shipments entering the United States from South America, but so far, nothing had particularly stood out. I was gazing out the large picture window of my office, wondering what my next course of action should be when my phone went off, an unfamiliar number flashing on the screen. I knew it had to be someone from MBLIS, though, as this was a work phone, and the only people who knew my extension were other agents.
“This is Fiona Gardner,” I answered, assuming it was one of the new guys since Miranda and Naomi were already in my contacts.
“This is Agent Chapman,” came the voice on the other end. I was right then about it being one of the new guys.
“We have some new information,” he continued. “It looks like they actually imported the cougar from Greece and not South America like we originally thought. We found the shipping crate they transported the cat in, as well as some vials of animal tranquilizer that both had Greek writing on them. We’re on our way back to the girlfriend’s house now. I’ll send the pictures of the crime scene evidence now, though, so you can get started right away. Oh, we have the victim’s phone too. I’ll get it over to you as soon as we’re finished with the girlfriend.”
