Secret Sins: Murder in the Church (5 page)

Captain West chooses do his weekly tag along and with me and today of all days.
It’s a quarter till twelve and traffic is moving like icy Sorghum Molasses. If I’d been alone I
would have used the sirens to get through traffic, but today is not the day. Captain West
comments, “Your report indicated you’d already spoken to Dr. Hussein.”

I answer in a short agitated tone, “I going to see Dr. Bhat.” I don’t like partners, and
sidekicks only get in my way especially out of shape cohorts. I prefer collaborators. A talented
collaborator can remain almost invisible. As I wheel into the main entrance
gate of the
Medical Examiner’s Office and turn off in t h e
ignition. A Security Guard comes out
carrying bright pink high heel shoes.

“I
hope those aren’t his,” remarks Captain West. “Listen. I don’t think I know a
Dr. Bhat,” he again remarks.
I sat there holding my keys watching the Security Guard place the boots into the truck
of a red Kia. As the guard passes a badge in front of an electronic key pad, “I need to ask
Dr . B ha t a few questions.”
Captain West finally caught on, “Something didn’t quite add up about the cause of
death of Murdock?”
I continued watching the guard enter the building as we both get of the car. “You
could say that.” I glance and smile at Captain West, “If you’re going to lie at least tell a
logical line that adds up and makes sense.”
Captain West rings the buzzer of the electronic door. We could see the guard seeing
at the desk through the glass window as the automatic doors opened and closed behind us.
We already had our badges in our hand, and give the customary quick flash. The guard
asks coldly, “What can I do for you.”
“I need to see Dr. Bhat,” I answer.
“They’ve been searching for Dr. Bhat since yesterday,” replies the guard. He points
to the clip board on the desk, and “I need you to sign in.”
Captain West signs in first and then I pick up the clip board, and glance at the date
and names and
immediately
notice,
names
and
immediately
I recognize
morning. I ask, “He’s missing?”
“He came in,
but there is no record of him ever
leaving
the
building…strangest
thing I’ve ever seen,” says the guard. The guard gets t h e
call on his, “We’ve found Dr.
Bhat!
Captain West was relieved, “Good.”
“Call the police,” said the female voice on the radio.
The radio is attached to the shoulder of his
uniform and pushes the button on the shoulder of his radio, “The police are here, and they
need to talk to Dr. Bhat.”
The female voice, “Talking to him is going to be very difficult.”
The guard smiles me as I lean on the edge of the tall desk and he asks, “Why is that?”
The female voice pauses, “We just
found him in one of the meat lockers, dead.”
Captain West and I glance at one another as the guard releases the button, “What in
the heck?” He rushes from behind the desk, “Follow me!” We take off running down a
long hall as Captain West surprises everyone with his ability to keep up at a study pace.
the date,
Monday July 2, 2012.
I
glanced
at
the
one
name,
Tony
Rome
at
signed
in
at 7:30 that
Undertaker, Brad Mosley

I don’t know what’s wrong with my son, Troy. “Listen. Death and taxes are the only
certainty. You need to forget that Rasta-Dogg Rapper thing, and get into one field that
guaranteed to pay. Be an Undertaker. You can rap about that.”

Troy
looks
down
at
the
floorboard
of
the
Hurst,
then
blurts
out, “I
love
rapping…Dad I’m a great rapper.”
“You rap while you’re embalming.” I tried to rhyme, “I’m the Undertaker. Death is a
money maker. They’ll be cold as ice, but I’ll have them looking elegant…”
Troy roars, “I’d rather be a Rapper!”
I continue my rhyme, “I am not paying for that, and you can bank on that.”
I drive around to the back of the Medical Examiner’s Office as Troy slumps down
in the seat of the Hurst. Troy gets out, and I watch as he gives me the various hand signals
and I back the long white
Hurst
into the dock. I turn off the engine and grab my clip
board and Troy opens the back hatch and pulls out the gurney, then slams the hatch shut.
As we’re walking I tell Troy, “You need to be the Grand Master of your time or you’ll be a
slave to it.” Troy rings the bell as I look over the papers for the funeral arraignments.
Dr. Hussein’s laboratory attendant, Kristen opens the door, and Troy rolls in the Gurney
as
Kristen looked over the
forms. Kristen looks to be no more than eighteen, and I
can see her eyes salivating with hunger at Troy’s long
dreadlocks,
sagging
pants and long
tee-shirt..
Combine that with his over top quality looks and
you have a formula no woman can say no to. I sign
Medical Examiner’s release forms for the remains
of Raymond C. Murdock. Troy grips the end of the gurney as he looks at the many
rolls and
columns of lockers. “Let’s go to locker seventeen,” replied Kristen.
Kristen leads us down a long white sterile hallway, and I notice a lot of activity a
little further down the hall. Police and Crime Scene Investigator’s crowd around like pigs
headed to the slaughter of a roped off area. Troy glances at me and mumbles under his
breath, “It’s time to go.”
I learned to stay calm a long time ago. And I communicated with a simple gesture of
my hand, “And we’ll
be on our way soon,” as we follow Kristen to locker seventeen.
Kristen opens the locker and quickly pulls out the drawer.
On the table, a body covered by a sheet. Kristen pulls away the sheet revealing none
of the external signs of an autopsy; such as stitches, lines and scars. Troy steps back from
the gurney as Brad grabs the body by one leg and arm and slides it onto his gurney and
covers it with a flesh sheet. I hand Kristen my sheet, “I need Dr. Hussein to sign my
release form before I can take the body.”
“Yes I will take your forms,” I handed the forms to Kristen as I rolled the gurney into
the hallway. Troy and I watch as Kristen walks in the
direction
of
the
police
activity.
Detective Virginia Breeze comes out wearing latex gloves, Troy recognizes her immediately,
“That’s the Detective from television.”
I watch Kristen as she stops at
the roped off area and
speaks to
Detective
Breeze.
Detective looks dead at me before she walks back into the room and Dr. Hussein walks
out. Dr. Hussein comes out into the hall and signs the forms Kristen is holding. He
looks in my direction
and
waves, and
I
wave
and
nod.
Kristen
walks
back
in
my
direction, and she escorts us onto the loading dock.
I leave Troy and Kristen with the body of Ray Murdock as Kristen opens the dock
bay door and I back the Hurst completely in. With the press of a button the rear door of
the Hurst opens and Troy slides the gurney on and I press another button and the gurney
locked into place and Troy closed the rear door of the Hurst.
I watch
from the side rearview mirror as
Kristen and Troy walk out together. Kristen hands Troy a slip of paper, and he shoves it into
his right pocket of his pants. Troy opens the car door and watches Kristen as she walks
into the building, and I assert, “Come boy. We’ve got to go!”
As the Hurst get onto the interstate 270 ramp, Troy turns on looks at the gurney. Troy
yelled, “Dad he’s sitting up!”
I respond in deep gruff voice, “Push him down.” And explain, “It’s just his nerves.”
Troy snaps at his father, “His nerves! What about my nerves?”
“It’s only natural reflexes happens sometimes. “When I make the pickups alone, they
stay up until I get to the funeral home, then I push him back down.” I instruct Troy,” Just
reach back there and push him down.”
Troy extends his arm towards Deacon Murdock, but he is too scared and pulls his
arm back, but Deacon Murdock lays back down on his own. “He just laid back down!”
Brad says, “That happens sometimes too.”
Troy says, “I’m not sure I’m cut out to be an undertaker.”
“Son, this is just your first time it’ll get better, and you’ll be as good as anyone ever
flipped burgers in a fast food restaurant.”
From a distance, the large sign of B. Mosley Mortuary is visible.
The
mortuary
looks like an old Southern Plantation Mansion. The Mortuary belonged to Brad father
and
grandfather.
When
his
father
died
the
family, business
passed
to
Brad
and
his
first
cousin, Beulah Murdock. Beulah and her daughter Nichelle took care
of
all the
burial
arraignments for Ray Murdock, but of course a much lower rate than for a normal customer.
People have no idea how affordable a funeral can be, but they get lost in their grief and
lose sight of 3how much they are being charged. My policy, if the life insurance policy is
worth fifty thousand dollars, then I sell them all the bells and whistles. We live on the
third floor, and the business takes up the
entire first and second floor of the building. We
all have a job in the funeral business. Charlene does deceased women’s hair, makeup and
nails on a part-time basis. Charlene owns a school of cosmetology known as Mosley Beauty
Academy. Charlene brings her students in for training them in doing hair, makeup, and
nails and other general duties having to do with the care of the dead. Troy is a student in
the
Mortuary program at
the local community college,
and he gets straight
A’s. Troy’s
problems started when he began his internship at my
funeral home. Brad dreams of Troy
taking over the family business one day, but Troy dreams of becoming a rapper. Troy has
done a few concerts with his buddy, T-Bogy, and they always draw a crowd wherever
they do a concert on Friday and Saturday nights. I told Troy, “You need something you
can fall back on in case that Rap thing doesn’t work out, and undertaking is
one business that you’ll never have to worry about being replaced by a computer or
wait on people to download a CD.”
Troy
explains,
to
his
dad, “There’s
this
guy with a big record company from
California and he wants us to sign with his record company.” Troy’s news falls on deaf ears
as I place Ray’s body on the embalming table in the Lab and look at my watch, “It
almost dinner time, we’ll get stated after dinner.” Troy feeling relieved, takes a deep breath
and rushes out the door and up the stairs.
Dinner is always a formal affair, and not by choice, but because of the profession.
Charlene always uses her best china and wine glasses. N o
one
drinks
in
the
Mosley
household, the wine glasses contain white grape juice or ice tea. Charlene regards dinner
as family time, and dinner is never a simple menu, such a Fried Chicken, Macaroni and
cheese and green beans.
It’s always over-the-top like
tonight, Rice and Sage stuffed Pork
Chops, broiled Zucchini slices; however, dessert is her specialty and everyone’s favorite,
Pineapple upside-Down Cake.
Shortly after dinner, I kiss Charlene on the cheek and inform her, “Great dinner, I’ll
have get another slice of cake later, but Troy and I have to get to work on Ray.”
“It took them
long enough to release his body.”
says
Charlene. “A
shame
he
drowned in
the baptismal pool like that,” and Charlene shakes
her head.
Brad comments as, “The Death Certificate indicates poisoning.”
Charlene lays her fork on her plate, wipes her mouth, “You mean someone, murdered
him.”
“It looks that way.”
“I can’t imagine anyone who would want to hurt Ray,” says Charlene.
I had to clear my throat after that comment, “I would think anyone
he’s ever done
business with.”
Troy gets up from the table and picks up his plate, and was about to take it to the
kitchen, and his mother interrupts, “Don’t worry about that, help your father, I got this.”
“Great,” says a disappointed Troy.
We enter the lab, and the table is empty. Troy
looks around the room and no sign of Ray’s body. I look in the walk in cooler for the
remains of Ray Murdock and somehow I knew they would not be there. I walk around to
the side entrance around the corner of the embalming lab, and the side door is hanging off
the hinges Troy suggests, “Maybe he walked off!”
I look around, “Nothing like this has ever happened before.”
“Someone broke in and stole his body,” responds Troy.
I frown, “Who would want to steal a dead body?”
I walk over to the land line phone hanging on
the wall and dial, 9-1-1 and the
emergency operator answers, “9-1-1 emergency.”
Brad says, this is Brad Mosley of the
B.
Mosley Mortuary and I’d like to report a body stolen.”
The operator reluctantly asks, “Would you repeat that please?”
“This is Brad Mosley of B. Mosley Mortuary and I’d like to report the body
of
Raymond Murdock has been stolen.”
The operator says, “We will send a unit to your location.”
Brad says, “Thank you.”

I feel
like a hothouse
tomato in this bio- hazard suit, but it’s a necessary evil the
entire Forensics Team must endure. My blinking cell phone hasn’t stopped ringing. I’ll let
it ring until voicemail picks the call on the third ring. No sooner had my phone stopped
ringing that Captain West’s phone rung with the theme of Shaft. Captain West answers
his phone then he steps out into the hallway away from Dr. Hussein.

I need to get a closer look at the
man in locker seventeen and standing over him,
without a doubt it was Dr. Ahmed Bhat. I ask Dr. Hussein, “What’s your assessment?”
Dr. Hussein is bent over Dr. Bhat’s body prodding and poking the forehead and skull
like produce in a supermarket. “He couldn’t be better preserved if he’s been put in can like
sardines.” An orderly walks in and delivers a set of ex-rays to Dr. Hussein.
I
would have thought
the Medical Examiner’s
Office was more
up to date and
modernized, with CT Scans like many modern laboratories, but Dr. Hussein prefers to do
things the old fashioned way.
Dr. Hussein holds the ex-ray up to the light, “Just as I thought. Looks like a .38,
but I want know for certain until I fish the bullet out.”
Dr. Hussein looks at the tools on the table, and he picks up a small electronic saw,
“I’m about to remove the crown of the skull.”
I’ve got nerves of steel, but not the stomach. I wanted to excuse myself, but Dr.
Hussein must have seen a trace of apprehension on my face, but I’m determined to stick
this out without hurling my guts onto the pavement.
The Chief of Security Operations, Kenneth
Cox stands in the doorway motioning to me, “I
need to speak to you,” he tells me in a disturbingly
animated tone.
You can look at some people and can’t tell a thing about their character, but not
Kenneth. Kenneth is an albino shaped Humpty
Dumpty with
a
face
full
of
freckles.
Kenneth’s the type of security guard that would give the untrained person the impression
he’s retired police officer. I’ve been around long enough to know that old Humpty is
mostly Dumpty. I knew more about
Kenneth than he realized. I pulled off the blue
latex gloves as I walked out into the hall, “Let me see what’s on the surveillance camera.”
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” he pauses and continues, “All
the
cameras in this section of the building malfunctioned.”
I knew if I were going to hit a snag it was going to be with the video surveillance
equipment, “Take me to the area,” I commanded.
He escorted me to a nearby office with a Do Not Enter sign posted on the door. I
almost expected
state
of
the
art
surveillance
equipment, but not this place. I couldn’t
believe it. I am looking at a cheap wooden cabinet with a VCR inside.
Captain West
over.”
One look at
NASA Pre- launch
over to take a closer look, “They still make VCR’s?”
comes into
the
room
talking on his cell phone, “Yeah. We’ll be right