Hidden Steel

Chapter 5

FIVE

The rain poured down relentlessly onto McCall’s faded blue Mustang as they turned onto Madison and headed north. As Detective Samantha McCall drove, the wipers on her ’66 Mustang worked overtime to clear the windscreen of the pounding rain. They soon arrived at the hotel on East 56th Street; the rain had kept many of the New Yorkers off the streets. Unfortunately, the people who had stayed home on East 56th had abandoned their vehicles rather than parked them. Between the poorly parked cars and UPS vans making deliveries, parking would be a nightmare on any day of the week, let alone a day when it was full of police cars and the ME’s wagons.

Eventually, McCall found a parking spot next to a dry cleaner’s, its red and green sign seemed brighter as the rain streamed down the front window of the store. Both detectives made for the hotel. Rushing from the car, they entered the large brass front doors of the building, the lobby of the hotel was quite dark, even though the walls were a mixture of white paint and mirrors, the highly polished floor mirrored the small lights encrusted into the ceiling. Before them, stood a uniformed officer who directed them to the second floor. Not far behind them, Tooms and Tony came through the entrance, dripping on to the polished floor.

“What the hell are you guys doing here?” McCall asked, with a scowl.

“We got the call as well,” Tony said, waving his cell phone. “Besides, the date sucked, she preferred the waiter,” Tony shrugged.

“Speak for yourself, I was havin' steak tonight man, friggin' steak and they call me in,” Tooms growled. McCall shot him a confused look – not understanding where his priority’s lay, it was his anniversary, and he was worried about steak?

They took the elevator to the third floor. The small box shuddered to a halt, and the doors opened. As they stepped out, McCall noticed the hallway was full of uniform officers making door to door enquiries, to try to get some information on the victim or hopefully, the murderer. They moved up, passing officers in the hallway until they reached room 208. The room was large with a double bed that had been placed in the middle of the room against the right wall, the only light came from the bedside and a lamp on a dresser which was opposite the bed. Next to the large window, a standard lamp illuminated the corner. Two armchairs had been placed in front of the window with a small coffee table nestled between them. Thompson oozed with pride as she passed the uniforms. She had gone through the ranks quickly, some thought too quickly, but she did not care. As they stood in the doorway, they could see Tina examining what appeared to be a woman on the bed. Before entering, the detectives put on the blue plastic booties, they had found next to the door, and a pair of blue gloves.

“Ok guys, don’t touch anything, CSU hasn’t been in yet,” Insisted Tina, they all nodded in agreement. McCall was a thorough cop, a good cop; she insisted that the other detectives carry at least two things - a notebook and a camera. Some thought the camera was unnecessary, but she had learnt from her dad that sometimes, memories are not enough on a case. McCall walked up to Tina, who was noting the body temperature.

“Hey,” McCall said, greeting her friend. Tina looked around at McCall.

“Hey,” Tina said, returning the greeting with a smile. “Well we got a Caucasian female around late thirties, early forties,” Tina said, as McCall took notes. The victim was wearing a red dress which looked more evening wear than as if she were going shopping, possibly for a night out or rendezvous with someone special. The woman had been pretty once McCall had thought, noting the photographs of the woman that were on the woman’s cell phone.

“So, I guess she sat on the edge of the bed and took out the .45, put it underneath her chin and…?” McCall said, mimicking the action with her fingers. The team took note of the massive blood splatter on the ceiling and most of the back wall; there was also a blood pool on the bed where she had fallen. The woman lay there, staring upwards into nothing with her grey, lifeless eyes. In her left hand, she held a nickel-plated snub-nosed .45 revolver – her fingers wrapped loosely around the pistol grip and trigger. McCall moved in closer to get a better look, behind her the CSU had arrived and were taking photos. McCall turned to see a small woman in CSU coveralls holding the SLR camera fully laden with flashes to get the perfect shot.

“Sorry,” McCall said, moving out of the technician’s way. “Can I get copies of those as soon as possible please?” McCall asked.

“Sure, Detective,” the tech replied as she took another shot. McCall watched as another tech removed the pistol from the woman’s grip, and clicking the chamber open, he removed the cartridges one at a time, checking them and placing them inside a clear self-sealing evidence bag.

“One round fired,” he said, holding up the empty brass case, then bagging it separately. McCall leaned in and looked at her face, studying the features. Thompson stood next to her and noted the expression on McCall’s face.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, inquisitively. McCall stood up and began to take her photos of the body. McCall’s face winced as she watched Tina try to separate the woman’s blood-sodden head from the bedclothes.

“What do you see?” McCall asked Jenny. Thompson gave McCall a confused look.

“What do you mean?” Jenny asked, suddenly feeling as though McCall was picking on her. Ever since she had moved up, McCall had been hard on her, or so she thought – did McCall feel threatened by her? She couldn’t say.

“Jenny tell me what you see,” Thompson studied the scene, she felt like saying “A dead chick on the bed,” but she knew that would go down like a lead balloon.

“White female, possible suicide,” Jenny started to explain, then she paused.

“Go on,” McCall said. She smiled as she could feel the tension building in Jenny.

“I…I don’t know.” Jenny suddenly barked. “What is this? Are you testing me or something?” with that, she stormed off. Tina looked up at McCall and gave her a sympathetic look.

“Ok, Tina, have you got a T.O.D?” Tina looked at her clipboard, “Well till I get her back I can’t be sure, but you’re looking at around twelve, twelve-thirty last night.” McCall thanked her before turning, and went looking for Thompson. McCall found Jenny in the hallway, leaning on her knees, gasping for breath.

“You ok?” McCall asked – her look was unsympathetic, emotionless even. Jenny looked up and gave McCall a bad puppy look, which caused McCall to smile.

“Look, yes, I am testing you, but I am also training you. I need to know what you know and well – fill in the blanks.” McCall said, recalling her own experience as a new detective. Working the street is one thing, but McCall had soon learnt it wasn’t like the movies or books. Jenny stood up and blew out a gut full of air.

“Ok, we’re going back in, and you tell me what you see, but don’t speculate, just what you see,” McCall said, extending a hand so Jenny could pull herself up. Jenny nodded, and they went back in. The metallic tang of dried blood filled the air – along with the stench of perfume and hairspray. Jenny walked over to the body and McCall waited close by, giving the rookie detective space to observe.

“White female, possible suicide,” Jenny said, moving her head around the body to get every angle possible.

“Why possible?” McCall butted in.

“It’s an assumption to say one way or the other without proof of anything suspicious, or the ME’s results,” Jenny answered with a serious face.

“Go on,” McCall smiled. She was learning.

“We found a purse, but it’s empty so it could be she didn’t want to be identified, she comes from money judging from the clothes and jewellery, also looking at the way she looks, we could rule out working girl.” McCall nodded in agreement.

“Anything else?” McCall asked. Jenny’s eyes strained, and McCall could see this was a determined look, rather than an observing look.

“Ok, that’s good, so would you say murder or suicide?” Jenny knew, either way, she would have to explain.

“Suicide,” Jenny said confidently. “The note, the door was locked from the inside, the position of the wound,” McCall nodded and walked around the body to the other side of the bed.

“I am going for murder,” McCall said. Jenny suddenly looked confused. What had she missed?

“The note was written by a left-handed person, which was obviously faked. Plus, if you’re going to the trouble of being unidentified, you don’t kill yourself where you can be found,” McCall explained, Jenny nodded as she took in the deduction. McCall had a point, something she had missed, more out of trying too hard than a rookie mistake. She was better than that; all she had to do was chill out.

“How do you know it was faked?” Jenny asked, inquisitively.

“How do I know she was left-handed?” McCall asked, hoping her question would answer Jenny’s.

“The watch! She wore it on her right wrist” Jenny smiled as an idea washed into her mind. McCall nodded in agreement.

“Well done. However,” McCall started to say, Jenny’s expression dropped, “If you look closely, you can see a white line on her right wrist, a tan line.” Jenny leant in to observe, “No, she was killed, and the watch put on after, in hope to throw us off.” McCall explained. She turned to the CSU tech.

“You done with the body?” McCall asked. The tech nodded as she put some sample bottles into an evidence bag and labelled it. McCall turned to Tina and nodded confirmation that she was good to remove the body. As the orderlies came with the gurney, McCall moved towards Thompson.

“You’re doing well but it’s my job to make you better, look you have a lot to learn. Follow the body to the morgue and get the report, ok?” Jenny nodded and went with the coroner’s crew. McCall spent a while studying the room; nothing was out of place apart from the fact that she had no luggage. McCall bit her bottom lip as she concentrated, making pictures in her mind as to how the whole thing must have gone down, but the noise of too many people about broke her concentration. No, she would have to come back later; instead, she would settle for a hundred shots of the room with her small camera. Tooms walked over to her.

“You will be shocked to know that nobody saw anything, let alone knew our vic,” Tooms said, flipping his notebook shut.

“Why am I not surprised?” McCall cracked a smile. “Wouldn’t surprise me if our vic didn’t pay for the room either,” she said, heading for the elevator, Tooms followed close behind.

“Only one way to find out.” he shrugged.