Inside the club
1278 Words
The Crime Scene- Alsie POV
Sarah and I pulled up to the crime scene. Sarah parked her cruiser in front of Club 8. We both got out of her car, grabbed gloves, a face mask, and shoe booties.
I shook my head, took a few deep breaths through my nose and out my mouth. I put on my gloves and shoe covers. I put my face mask in my pocket. Then I proceeded to walk into Club 8.
“Here we go”. I said more to myself than to Sarah.
“Yep. Another day in paradise.” Sarah replied.
As we walked up to Club 8 I assumed that the painted cue ball outside the front door was where the bouncer checked people's ID. We walked in the front door. The front door was painted like a billiards 8 ball. Just inside the door to the right was an area marked off for security. I continued down the entry way about 10-12 steps, and it opened into a large room.
“I go right, you go left.”
“Same drill as always Sarah, meet you in the middle.”
On the north wall was the bar. It was U-shaped with 3 service wells. The bar top resembled a pool table with green felt that was lacquered to a spit shine. The backbar shelves were made from pool cues and had a slight green colored glass top for the bottles to sit on. The pour spouts for the bottles were mini billiard balls. The bar stools were pub height, made from black ash wood, and had billiard ball designs on the seats. It was on theme, well-built, and expensive.
I scanned the room. Trying to get my bearings. I go over what Sarge said in my head. There was a stage, big cats, exotic animals, and I thought a strip club. Don’t ask me why. I wasn’t expecting pool hall.
The south side of the room had a small, elevated stage, big enough for a four-piece band and that’s about it. The stage had top-of-the-line lighting, and a Bose sound system that a recording studio would be jealous of. Directly in front of the stage was a dance floor, and on either side of the dance floor sat a few 2 top tables.
Off to the west was a bank of 6 full-size billiard tables, a few small, pub-height tables and the same style bar stools for sitting, eating and drinking, while shooting pool.
If it weren’t for the blood and dead body, this place would be pretty nice.
I walked to the stage and looked at the blood pattern. It appeared this victim was running away when he or she was attacked, fell down, crawled, then he or she laid on the stage. The blood droplets had a forward trajectory, until the smear stains.
“Um excuse me. You, crime scene person. I’m sorry I don’t know your name. Are you new?” I asked, a little embarrassed.
“No, not really. I just don’t usually work this shift, but Jamison is out sick. My name is Patrick. Did you have a question, Detective? My apologies. I don’t know your name.”
“I’m Detective Alsie Jones. Yes, I have a few questions. Have you photographed the blood over here on the stage yet? Do you know if this victim was male or female?”
“I sure did. I cleared that scene 1st. It had the most blood and a few small items that we bagged and tagged. We also grabbed multiple blood swabs to type, match, and do a DNA sequence on. The victim on the stage was female. Coroner took her away about 45 minutes ago.”
“We?” I asked
“Where are my manners? Yes, Detective, myself and CSU lead Josephina Jorge. Josie has already left with boxes of evidence to get logged back at the crime lab. I’m just here finishing up pictures. I’ve probably taken way too many, but this scene is so intriguing. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“How do you mean?” I inquired.
“Here, let me show you.” Patrick said as he walked me to a small walkway behind the stage.
“You see that there, Detective?”
“Yes?! What is it? It can’t be real.”
“It looks like a set of 4 large bloody paws walking away from the mess on the stage, then those paws become a pair of human feet. They continue out the side door, to the sidewalk, and then they are gone. I think whatever it was, it got into a waiting car. Which would mean there is at least one more person or thing involved in what happened here.”
“Interesting assessment Patrick. Thank you.”
“Sure, no problem. If you need anything else, let me know.”
The paw prints turning into footprints is interesting, but I’m sure it can be explained. Unless it was werewolves. I laughed to myself.
“What’s funny, Als?” asks Sarah
I about jumped to the ceiling.
“AW! Don’t creep up on me like that at a damn murder scene!”
Sarah laughs at me and says “You’re being silly. What do you got?”
“Honestly, not much. These paw and human footprints, a lot of blood on the stage, but that’s where our vic died, so to be expected. Like Sarge said nothing out of the norm, except the dead body.”
“Randell said that.”
“What?” I asked Sarah
“Randell. He’s the one who said nothing out of the norm. Alsie-Alsie”
“Oh, OK. That’s what we're doing now?” I said as I smiled and shook my head.
“I’m hungry. It feels like we ate those bagels forever ago. Wanna head over to that coffee shop about a block away? I bet they got pancakes Alsie.”
“You know me so well, Sarah. I can’t turn down a good pancake.”
“Or a bad one.” Sarah quips back and we both laugh.
“Yeah, let’s head over there, eat, see where this case and the rest of the day takes us.”
“Wait, what about the storeroom?” I asked.
“I called the CSU supervisor, Josie, and we can’t get in there until after animal control comes and does their thing. Apparently exotic animals trump homicide. I called Sarge to see if he could pull some weight or strings in the matter and get us in there, but he said no.”
“So…dead lady versus empty animal cages and empty cages wins? That’s what I’m hearing, Sarah?”
“Yep. Ding-ding-ding. Winner-winner chicken dinner.”
“I’ll settle for pancakes. Let’s go. That information just pissed me off. Don’t they know the 48-hour rule? If we don’t get a lead or an ID in the first 48 hours, the chances of solving the murder decline by 50%? This is stupid.”
“Again, yep. It really is stupid Alsie-Alsie. Protocol almost never makes sense.”
“Stop calling me that,” I laughed. “It’s bad enough Randell is going to be calling me that forever. I don’t need it to stick. Look what happened to Banks. That poor guy is Fanks-Banks two years later and people in the squad room still call him that. Officer Randell has a way with coming up with nicknames that don’t go away. It’s like high school.”
“I don’t care. Fanks-Banks is still funny,” Sarah said smiling.
“Yeah, it is,” I replied.
- Writer
