Diamond in the Rough

As I handed Milt his coffee, he said: “I hear you’ve been making friends again….”

“Wouldn’t surprise me. I have that kind of face. Which stories have you heard?” I asked.

“Daniel Foreskin,” he replied, trying to look stern and almost succeeding. “I’ve met the man and can’t deny the name fits…. But his partner has an uncle who can make or break careers with a phone call…”

“I’m aware,” I replied, “but his presence makes me wonder what the mayor’s interest in this case is…”

“I doubt the mayor himself even knows about it, but his nephew loves name-dropping, and Carlton will do what he can to protect Stanley. Always has, ever since they were little as far as I can tell.”

Carlton was mayor Carlton Scanlon, of course, the guy who has run the city for about nine years, three times longer than I have been with the Force.

“Still the speed the lawyers got involved seems suspect to me,” I replied. Milt just nodded and handed me a stack of paperwork.

“Fill these out, as much as you can, kid, and then grab some lunch and meet me at the morgue around one. Should have something for us by then.”

I sighed and nodded. A bunch of witness statements, an equipment requisition form and an overdue arrest report dated the day before I made detective. I sighed a second time and went to work. Took a ten minute break to grab more coffee from the break room and a sandwich from the vending machine and another fifteen minutes trying to decide which had been worse for my digestion, but I barely managed to get through the papers - paperwork is at least half of what Your Boys in Blue do on a daily basis, and detectives do more of it than beat cops (also rookies get the lion's share and the veterans just sign on the dotted lines, and then yell at us if there were mistakes) - in time to meet my partner at the morgue.

I was about five minutes late and hesitated outside the door, as it was clear Milt and Doctor Grant were in full-on flirt mode. I know she is much older than she looks, but she was still maybe half his age. But hey, they seemed to enjoy it. I hesitated a moment, and then knocked before entering.

Karen looked up as I entered and went straight to business: “now that you are both here, we believe your hunch is correct - there are indications that at least three people left biological trace in that room, and we will know more when the state crime lab can get back to us.”

I tried not to groan. The feds can usually get DNA evidence examined in detail within forty-eight hours, but if we have to go through a state or federal lab, we are lucky to hear back within seventy-two hours and I have heard of delays up to a week if there are higher priority cases in the queue. The only place you get an answer in a day or less is on television, and sometimes even they have it taking over a day, if it seems more dramatic that way.

“So definitely two people plus our known victim in that room?”

“Five people present at least,” Milt said. “Three who lost blood or body parts and two more who left prints that either are in places that staff would not leave any or who aren't staff. One isn't in the system, but the other should be here in about half an hour if the uniforms do their job right.”

“Good to know. Why did we need to meet here to discuss it?”

“The finger,” Karen replied. “I am still trying to figure out what severed it. All I can tell for certain is that it belonged to a man and was likely the index finger. Print matches the unknown. But look at this,” she said, turning her laptop to face me. It showed a series of photographs of the finger from several angles.

“What am I looking at here?” I wondered aloud.

The doctor replied: “The edge of the wound. There is no trace of metal. I am running tests for ceramics but doubt anything will turn up that way, and the edge is not really clean enough for that, anyway. It looks like a bite of some sort except…”

“It looks burned?” I offered.

Milt nodded. “Thought so too. Wondered if it struck an oven or something.”

“Possible but unlikely,” Karen Grant replied. “My best guess is some kind of serrated blade that was on fire and consumed by the flames as it cauterized the wound. That would probably require some kind of accelerant, and I have not found any trace of any known chemicals that might work for that, but we're still checking. This is the weirdest thing I have seen in my nine years here,” she added.

“Wait, could an automatic weapon at close range do that?”

“In theory, but that would leave gunshot residue all over the finger and probably the rest of the room,” she replied, and I mentally slapped myself for forgetting that detail.

“It's almost as if a fire breathing dog bit it off,” she said absently. “At least there are traces of metal in the neck of the female vic, traces that match one of the butcher’s knives brought in, as a matter of fact. Sadly, either everyone who used that blade wore gloves or it was wiped clean afterwards.”

I sighed. “I guess they want us to earn our pay on this one,” I replied.

“On a brighter note,” Milton chimed in, “I just got a text that our one suspect is being taken to Interrogation Three as we speak. Time to head up Jack. Always a pleasure, Karen.”

“Are we still on for tonight, Miltie?” She asked.

I almost gagged. If I had, I could always blame it on the smell of the place…

“Sure thing, Doc,” he replied with a bright smile. “Come on rookie, time to earn our keep.”