by JM Addison
*
Dell awoke with a start. He was cold, lying on the hard floor. He sat up and discovered his head had been laying in a small puddle of his own blood. He tried to think back to the last thing he could remember. He flipped on the light and the lights apparently went out for him as someone, someone who was just a dark blur coming from the left and a bit behind, clubbed him good alongside his head with what must have been what is generally referred to in police lingo as a ‘blunt object’.
He tried to stand and felt a sharp stab of pain run through his head. His vision blurred and he stumbled into the wall. He remained still a moment and his vision cleared. It must have been quite a blow. He considered himself fortunate for even waking up at all.
He looked around what was evidently the kitchen. Obviously, there had been quite a struggle here. Drawers were pulled out and kitchen utensils were scattered everywhere. The table was shoved aside and its’ contents pushed onto the floor. He noticed more blood, some on the counter some on the floor. Blood that wasn’t his. There was an occasional drop here and there that seemed to lead out the back door he had come in last night. With the limited view the flashlight offered in the dark of night, he was focused on getting into the door and not a trail of blood, so it went unnoticed until now.
He went out the back and in the early morning light, found a couple of more drops on the steps that went to the ground. He had seen many crime scenes before, but this one made him sick. Not sick from getting his own head practically bashed in, though that hurt enough, but sick because he didn’t get here in time to save her. Such a young, pretty girl. He could kick himself. He could have taken her more seriously. He should have insisted on a police escort for her. Now she was likely dead.
All he could do now is simply turn the case over to the local police. There was no town of any significance here, so probably the New Hampshire State Police would end up with this.
He went back inside to find the phone and never made it past the kitchen sink. He vomited in the kitchen sink and felt worse than ever. He probably had a concussion but the realization that he utterly failed this poor girl hit him with even more disappointment. Usually he investigated crimes, he didn’t cause them. He cleaned up the sink and abruptly realized he was altering a crime scene. He checked his pockets and found he was still carrying his cell phone.
Before he phoned the crime in, he had to call the Bedford station and report. He did not expect to spend the night in Ashbury and would normally have been at the station by now. He called his own number knowing someone would be taking calls for his phone. Jeni answered the phone.
“Hi Jeni, It’s Dell.” He began.
“Dell! Where are you! The chief was looking for you and he seemed pretty upset.”
“I’m in New Hampshire. I didn’t plan to be here this long, but it was beyond my control.” He didn’t elaborate on being assaulted and spending most of the night on the kitchen floor. “There’s a crime scene here that I still need to turn over to the locals, so as soon as I’ve finished, I’ll be heading back.”
“O.K. But before you go, the chief is here, and he really wants to talk to you, so hang on and I’ll put you on with him.”
Dell wondered what could be so urgent. He was hoping there wasn’t some serious new crime back in Bedford that needed his immediate attention. “Sure, put him through…”
“Oh, wait, I almost forgot, you got a call from Mara Chandler. She seemed pretty anxious to talk to you.”
He couldn’t believe his ears. Was she alive? “When did she call!”
“Just a few minutes ago, you just missed her. I said I would have you call her, but she said she was away and that she would have to call you later.”
He breathed a sigh of relief. She was OK. However, many questions flooded his mind: Then whose blood was scattered around the kitchen? The mother’s? Where was Mara? Was she safe? “Thanks. If she calls back, tell her I’m in Ashbury for the morning. I suspect she’s probably in this area somewhere. Try to pin her down with a phone number where I can call her back, or even better yet, patch her through to me on my cell.”
“O.K., here’s the Chief…”
“Hello, Dell?” came the voice of Chief Donaldson.
“Good morning.” Dell replied.
“Listen Dell, I thought we had an understanding. You were supposed to lay off this Chandler case. I don’t appreciate getting calls in the middle of the night to complain about your continued pursuit of this situation. We are turning this over to the State and that’s final! Are we clear?”
Dell wondered what on earth was going on. Called in the middle of the night? Who would even know he was here? He felt the breast pocket of his sport coat and realized his wallet was missing. No, not missing, taken. It all began to fall into place. Someone cold-cocked him and took his ID. They found out he represented the Bedford police and put further pressure on to drop the case, or ‘give it to the state’ as the chief put it. That meant someone probably had some control over what happened once the case got to the state police. It would likely be quietly forgotten just like the last missing persons case at Viiradium of a few months ago.
“Dell? Are you there?” asked the chief.
“Yeah, I hear you. I get the message. I wasn’t actually investigating the case, simply helping a victim on my own time.”
“Dell, you know the policy on personal involvement with witnesses or victims of any open case. This better not in any way be in violation of those policies. After last night I’ve had enough!”
“No problem Chief. There is a crime scene here which I’m going to turn over to the locals right now. As soon as I’m finished, I’m heading back. See you later.” He hung up without waiting for a reply. He didn’t want to hear any more of the policy nonsense from the chief. He was already irate enough. Somehow, powerful corporate corruption was at work here. He was always a stickler for following procedure and staying ‘by the book’. Being meticulously honest was his personal creed and he felt was, at least partly, what made him a successful detective. It angered him to realize that even his own department could be so easily affected.
He had a lot to do. Foremost was to find Mara. He also had to report this mess to the authorities. That would be easy. He used the phone in the kitchen to dial 911 and asked for the police. The 911 operator confirmed his address and name and asked for a reason for the call. He explained he needed the police to investigate an apparent crime scene, himself being a law enforcement officer from outside the area. She confirmed her intent to dispatch a patrol car and asked him to wait there until they had arrived.
Before he could reply, there was a sharp knocking at the front door. He hurriedly finished the call with the emergency operator and rushed through the living room to the front door. As he approached the door, he could see through the window, a county sheriff patrol car in the driveway behind his car. ‘Wow the police respond fast around here!’ he thought to himself. As he approached the door, he could overhear the muffled voice of the cops talking about entering the house.
To their surprise, he swung the door open and intended to greet them. However, they both had guns already drawn. They asked him to step outside with his hands raised and allow them to search his person. They found his gun and cell phone, but obviously, no wallet, no Police ID. They handcuffed him and led him to their waiting patrol car where they locked him in the backseat. No amount of protesting on his part could convince them to stop and think. They indicated that he would have to wait until they returned after having a look around.
As he sat waiting, he became simply infuriated. He was not only an innocent bystander, but a member of the law enforcement community. Their treatment of him was appalling. Why barge in and treat him as a criminal.
Then, from his seat in the back of the patrol car, he overheard the call over the police radio from dispatch to respond to Dell’s call. That meant these police were not here as a result of his call to 911, but were here on some sort of coincidental basis. Did M
ara’s mother call the police from somewhere?
The two gray uniformed officers emerged from the house and returned to the patrol car. They opened the door and began to question him.
One of the officers, apparently named ‘H. Hansen’ from the name pin he wore above the breast pocket, asked his name.
Dell responded, “Detective Dell Taylor of the Bedford, Massachusetts Police department.”
“What is your business here?” asked H. Hansen.
“I was working on a case involving a crime victim who was recently attacked. In fact, it was an aborted kidnapping attempt. She was planning to come here to stay with family for a few days to recover and relax. When I could not reach anyone here where she was expected to arrive, I got worried and drove up. I didn’t think it was anything serious, probably just out for a while, but I had some time so I just thought I would just follow up.”
He continued, “There were no cars when I got here, so I was about to leave when I noticed the broken glass and the mess someone made driving across the back yard and away through the field.
“I went around to the back door and entered the house because of the suspicion of foul play. When I walked in, I was attacked and left behind. It would seem that my assailant took my wallet with my police ID. When I came to, I phoned 911 to get you guys out here.”
“We just received the call,” said the other officer, the one wearing the radio on his belt.
H. Hanson asked, “Would that crime victim you spoke of be Ms. Mara Chandler?”
“Yes!” replied Dell.
“It would seem that she is wanted for questioning in the possible homicide of her mother. There’s an APB out on her, that’s why we came here. That’s probably who cracked you over the head last night. We need to verify your story. Is that your car?” He indicated Dell’s car in front of the patrol car. He drove up in his own car instead of using a police cruiser to maintain separation from the case.
He couldn’t believe what he was hearing! Mara simply could not be involved. Pieces were rapidly fitting together in his mind, pieces of something larger, sinister, a plot that was still not understood. Getting her framed was a a smart plan when kidnapping attempts fail. “Yes, that’s mine, since this was an unofficial visit, just out of my own concern, I did not drive one of our police units.”
The other officer went to the car and opened the passenger door. They could check the registration with Massachusetts Motor vehicles, but simply looking at the registration would suffice. The officer noted that the car was indeed registered to him.
“Since you have no ID, we just need to confirm with your department if you don’t mind.” H. Hanson said.
“No problem, I can give you my office number, and in fact there should be a couple of business cards in the car someplace which are issued by our department.” They graciously removed the handcuffs and accompanied him to the car while he found a business card. He handed it to the officer and one of them went inside. After a moment, he came back out and said, “Yeah Howard, this is really Detective Taylor.”
Apparently, the ‘H’ stood for ‘Howard’ Hansen. They apologized for their treatment of him and explained that when he came to the door with blood in his hair, he looked much more like a participant of foul play than law enforcement. He hadn’t even realized what he must look like after being cracked over the head. He remembered first sitting up and seeing that he had bled some from his head wound.
Dell wasn’t quite sure where to go from here. He could explain the story from the beginning, but the corruption of the Massachusetts state police and the corporate involvement of Viiradium seemed a little far-fetched and he didn’t think he could convince his own boss of any such relationship, let alone these two guys. So, instead, he decided to play along and see what he could find out.
They explained that the police had received an anonymous call claiming that Mara had apparently assaulted her mother viciously and left her for dead. However, their search of the house revealed no remains other than a few bloodstains. Dell explained that he was actually working with Mara on a case in Bedford involving the disappearance of her brother and tried to minimize his suspicions by describing only the most necessary details and finishing up with the fact that she was simply going to visit her mother’s for a few days while things settled down and the Bedford police could hopefully make some progress. He left out the details he knew that implicated possible government corruption or even involvement of Viiradium Corp.
However, his efforts to clear her of any blame only resulted in further suspicions. Now the sheriff was thinking that Mara herself may have actually had something to do with the disappearance of her brother Chris. Perhaps the fact that she reported him missing to the police was only her attempt to direct any attention away from her.
They had Dell’s number and appreciated the information he supplied. They would expand the APB to include Massachusetts, but agreed that it would only be a bulletin indicating she was wanted for questioning and not considered dangerous. The sheriff, Howard, retrieved a roll of yellow crime scene border ribbon from the patrol car to span and officially seal the doors of the house. The other officer was calling for assistance on the radio. It sounded like the New Hampshire state police would be sending in their investigations unit and would even likely end up in charge of the case. They were interested in a forensic investigation of the house as well as a detailed examination of the tracks that led back through the field beyond the old barn. More investigators would be showing up soon.
The officers wanted Dell to clear his car out of the way so they could examine all of the tire imprints, though little was left of any actual tread marks with the rain last night. He discovered his car wouldn’t start and then remembered looking at the tracks in the yard under the light of his headlights. Since he was knocked cold, he never did get a chance to turn them off. The officers were not pleased and didn’t want to disturb the scene any more, so they collectively pushed his car down the driveway a bit. Someone would have to give him a jump when they got a free moment.
Dell wanted to make another call to the Bedford station. One thing for certain, he could not believe that Mara was involved with the abduction and possible murders of Chris Chandler or Mara’s mother. He had to find out where she was. Hopefully, she would have called back to the station by now and with any success, Jeni convinced her to leave word with her location. He hoped he could make the call without either of the other officers overhearing his conversation. But he had no cell phone. He could ask for one of their cell phones, but it would be more private to return to the house to use the phone inside. He thought they would be OK with him cossing the police tape, but he wasn’t going to risk asking permission. He just made the assumption and wen inside.
As Jeni answered the phone, Dell said, “Hi Jeni, it’s Dell. I just wanted to check in one more time before I left.”
