The Wife of a Lesser Man (LA Cops Series Book 1) (6 page)

Richard scanned them and found one of the couch and the wall.  He brought it over to Mark.  “It appears this one was taken”.  Mark glanced at the picture and said, “It looks like this pattern might be an earring or necklace or something.  But it was removed after the victim died.”

“Did you notice a jewellery box in the bedroom?”  Mark asked.

“A small one, and there’s also a trinket box beside it full of crap.”

“I’m just wondering if the jewellery was picked up by the investigators.  Let’s head over to the coroner’s and see what was on her.” 

Mark carefully set the cushion on the floor next to the couch and grabbed a plastic ‘evidence’ tag and placed it in front of the cushion.  He took as good a picture as he could using the camera on his cell phone and they left.  Nelson was just pulling up. 

“We’re heading to the Coroner’s now but we might be back later,” Richard said.  Nelson nodded and went back inside the house.

“That boy better learn how to talk or he won’t survive in
our
precinct,” Richard commented.

“Well, not with
you
anyway.”  Mark laughed.

…

Richard hated going to the Coroner’s office.  It was the most dank, cold and creepy place.  What made matters worse was the Coroner, Bob, loved to listen to metal music while he worked.  His favourite band was Metallica, and you always knew when he was having a bad day because the song ‘Enter Sandman would be playing.  Bob had just returned from vacation and he was playing catch up because the rookie who covered for him left many loose ends.  His day wasn’t going well and that song was on just as Mark and Richard arrived.  Richard shuddered when he saw the bodies all laying there, covered in white sheets like furniture being protected from dust, lined up like lady finger cookies on a tiramisu.

Knowing how Richard felt about the place, Mark offered to wait in the car.  “Na, I’ll tough it out.  I’m curious anyway.  It’s been a while since I’ve seen a point blank shot.”

“Suit yourself.” Mark said, holding the door for him as he winced once his foot touched the highly polished floor. 

His face darkened when he saw Bob standing over a body with his back to them.  Bob turned around to greet them and then immediately turned back; the man was not easily distracted.  “Reed’s body is the one over there,” Bob said, pointing his gloved hand over to the body nearest the cadaver storage drawers.  Richard closed his eyes tightly when he noticed something hanging from Bob’s glove.  He had to stifle the urge to walk with his eyes closed, holding Mark’s shoulder for direction.

Mark noticed Richard’s expression and he said under his breath, “This is why you’ll never make chief.”  And he nudged him gently with his elbow.  Richard opened his eyes and looked up at the ceiling, as though he had walked in on someone using the washroom and he could later claim “I didn’t see a thing.”

Richard nearly walked right into Mark when they reached the table where Karen Reed’s body was located.  “Do you
mind
?”  Mark said. 

Mark pulled aside the sheet covering Karen’s face, lowering it just to her collarbone.  “Was she wearing any jewellery?”  he asked Bob.  Mark seemed to be oblivious to the sight of her.  Richard, however, couldn’t keep it together and turned his back to avoid looking.  There was a small hole between her eyes on her forehead, slightly to the right.  The shot went clean through to the back of her skull.  Her eyes remained open. 

“It’s in the bag under the table,” Bob answered with his back still turned.

Mark bent down and raised the sheet far enough to see the yellow manila envelope.  He dumped the contents onto the clean table beside them.  There was a watch, a pair of cubic zirconia earrings, and a birthstone ring inside.

He looked closely at her earlobes; she had two sets of holes for earrings.  He looked at her left hand; there was no mark where her wedding ring used to be and no mark on her wrist.  Then he pulled up her right hand and couldn’t see any marks on her fingers, but her wrist had a noticeable set of indents and scratches. 

“Were these marks post mortem?”  Mark asked.

Finally, Bob turned around.  “Yes.  Must have been a bracelet.  Nothing was on her though.” 

“Did you get a shot of the markings?”  Mark asked. 

“Yeah, but it isn’t great.  I can try to get a mould of them if you think it’s relevant.”

Richard interjected, “Yeah, that would be great….are we done here?” 

“Yeah, we’re done for now.” 

“Thanks Bob, we’re going to head back to the house and see if there’s a bracelet in with her jewellery.  See if it matches the markings on her wrist and the couch.” 

Bob grunted and turned his back again.

When Richard and Mark exited the morgue, Richard said, “That guy gets along better with the bodies.”

…

“So you think this freak killed her and then removed some bracelet?”  Richard asked Mark on the way back to the victim’s house.

“I think so.  It was probably a gift he gave her. If so, we might have a chance matching it up if we can get a description or something to go on,” Mark said.

“At any rate, we need to go back to the house and search for anything else.  We also need to contact Lisa and see what she’s been able to dig up.” 

Richard shuddered again at the mention of ‘dig up’, thinking of the bodies in the morgue.

They pulled up to the house and it was like a déjà vu.  Constable Nelson appeared at the front door instantly and saluted both men.  Mark immediately noticed that Nelson’s face looked very much like Andy’s had, pale and sick.  “You look like you need to be relieved Nelson.  Go get some air, my man,” Mark said, patting Nelson on the shoulder.  He watched Nelson almost miss the first step off the porch, then gain his footing and lose his breakfast in the bushes just to the side of the steps.

“You wanna go make sure he’s okay while I get started?”  Mark said to Richard.

“No problem. I almost did that at the morgue.” 

Richard laughed under his breath as Mark opened the door and entered. 

He went straight to the bedroom.  The jewellery and trinket box were just as Richard had told him.  Mark opened the jewellery box and to his surprise it was nearly empty.  In the top portion there were three small cushions lined up like logs lengthwise to hold rings.  There sat her wedding band in between two of the cushions.  In the small compartment in front was a simple silver bangle and a large safety pin.  He opened the drawer underneath and found nothing but an old movie stub and a packet of mints.  The side openings were empty.  She wasn’t into necklaces, he thought. 

Next, Mark took the overflowing trinket box and dumped it out onto the bed.  There were about ten pairs of mismatched earrings in varying styles from stud to dangling, another watch and a set of small nail clippers.  He looked up, strummed his fingers against his chin in thought and stood up.  Beside the dresser was a three tier wood shelving unit which held a number of hard cover books, some pictures in frames and a bunch of photo albums.  He quickly perused the framed photos and found a few wedding photographs, a picture of Karen and what appeared to be her mom and a vintage picture of a childhood dog.

He sighed, picked up one of the photo albums, sat down on the bed and opened it.  The album consisted of wedding pictures, so many that he lost interest after the second page.  He scanned the rest of the albums and found one that looked kind of interesting in that it was fat and had lots of paper hanging out of it.  Once he picked it up, a piece of paper immediately fell out.  When he leaned down to retrieve it, he saw something poking out from the small gap between the dresser and the carpet. 

“See something interesting?”  Richard asked.

“Yeah, see if you can find me a pair of tweezers.”  Mark answered, looking behind the dresser, noticing the change in nap thickness behind; you could see a clear line where the dresser had been moved. 

“Found them in the master bath,” Richard said, handing him the tweezers with his rubber gloves on.  “You better put these on, too,” Richard added, handing him a pair of gloves.  ”Charlie gets wind we were in here at all without them we’re up shit’s creek.”

Mark grunted as he made his way down on his hands and knees.  He carefully pulled the object out from the bottom of the dresser.  It was a picture.  “Looks like Charlie’s crew missed something.”  Mark commented in a sly voice, holding the picture up with a knowing look on his face.

…

Mark yawned as he sat upright in bed, propped up with pillows and checking his emails on his laptop. 

“Tired babe?” Shelley asked, turning the page of her romance novel, also propped up in bed. 

As he exhaled he answered, “Yeah, a bit.”  He swallowed and laughed, shaking his head.

“What’s so funny?”

“You should have seen the look on Richard’s face today when we went into the morgue.” 

Shelley smiled, “Oh no, poor guy.”  Then she grimaced.

“Yeah, not nearly as bad as Nelson though, he tossed his cookies today.” 

“Are you serious?  Man, how do you get off having such a cast iron stomach?”  Shelley put down her book and looked directly at him.

Mark nodded and typed something on his computer, “I really couldn’t tell you.  I’m the only one who’s had a heart attack though.  Not sure what
that
means.”  Then he paused and looked at Shelley, “Lisa’s online and is asking if it’s too late to call…..is it okay with you?”   

“Sure, shall I give you some privacy?” 

“Not necessary, but I’m not sure you want to hear some of this stuff.  It’s to do with a murder.”  He answered, typing his response to Lisa.  Shelley nodded and rose, “I’ll go empty the dishwasher.”  The second she arrived downstairs the phone rang. 

“Hey Lisa, what’ve you got?”  Mark said warmly.

“Well, the only relative willing to talk to us is her mother.  She lives in Peterborough.  That’s where she grew up.  Father’s dead.  Her sister lives in the States but is estranged; she’s a cokehead and all her ex in-laws live in Europe, but it looks like they’ve disowned her after her and hubby divorced.”  She waited.

“You got contact information for mom?”  Mark asked.

“Yup.  I have some numbers for the ex in-laws anyhow, but phone records haven’t shown any conversations in the last year.”

“Okay.  Put the phone records on my desk; I’ll look at them in the morning.  Set up an appointment for me or Andy to interview the mom over the phone tomorrow.”  Mark paused for a moment and then Lisa interrupted. “Richard tells me you guys found a picture or something at her house.  Charlie’s really embarrassed about that.  Just fyi.”

“Yeah, well, whoever was in charge of detail there slept through the job; the photo albums weren’t even touched.  When this case is closed, Charlie and I need to have a conversation or two about his crew,” Mark said matter-of-factly. 

“Did she have a cell phone?”  Mark asked.

“Yup, but it was one of them pay-as-you-go deals, so there’s a better chance of me sprouting a new leg than there is of getting records for that.”  Lisa snorted.

“See what you can dig up.  Find out how long she had it; maybe she only got it recently and there’s another one on a plan that she had previously.”  Mark shrugged.

“On it.”

“Thanks Lisa…..say hi to Richard for me, eh?  Oh, and, by the way, he likes bacon and eggs for breakfast,” Mark joked.

“And you guys say women have big mouths,” Lisa scoffed as she hung up the phone.  Mark giggled and nodded as he heard the click on Lisa’s end.

…

Mark walked into the office and saw Richard sitting with Lisa.  They were both at her desk; Lisa in her desk chair and Richard pulled the extra chair out of Mark’s office and sat beside her.  They were looking through a file together.  It was seven forty five.  “Don’t you people have lives?”  He asked incredulously.  “It’s Saturday morning of a long weekend.  What the hell are you two doing here?” 

They both looked up with blank, exhausted and unfocused eyes.  “We’ve been here all night.”  Mark grinned devilishly.  Richard put his hand out as if to stay ‘stop.’  “We’ve been combing through Karen Reed’s phone records.  Don’t get excited.”  Richard stated flatly.

Mark walked into his office, hung his jacket over the back of the chair and wheeled it over, next to Richard.  As he sat down, he asked, “So, anything good?”

“Not really,” Lisa said, “But we did find the number to a friend of hers.  She called several times at the beginning of the year.  The calls petered out about three months ago,” 

Richard yawned.  “We looked it up and the number is registered to a Monica Sutherland.  Local.”  He showed Mark the slip of paper that he wrote the information on.  Mark looked at it and took a paper clip from Lisa’s desk; he attached it to the top of the first page of phone records.

“Anything else noteworthy?  Any luck getting a hold of her mother?”  Mark asked, rising from the chair.

“There’s been a few calls made to her employer, I guess calling in sick or late.  She was a child and youth worker for the city.  Some calls to a hairdresser and dentist, a few to her doctor, but nothing unusual,” Lisa answered, frowning.  Mark sensed the disappointment.