Short Fiction - by Cheryl Pillsbury
The Black Cat
The early morning rays breached the veil of gray haze, leaving the last vestiges of the storm far behind. Henry buttoned his worn sweater and ventured from his box in the alley near 43rd and 3rd Street to scavenge from the rain soaked neighborhood trash. As he was returning with his booty, he heard two gunshots echoing from inside the building behind him. Startled and curious, he dropped his things and ran to the window above his makeshift home. He quickly cleared the dirty glass with his sleeve and peered in. It looked like a man lying motionless on the floor; he cautiously entered the building through the rear and stumbled over to the body.
Henry gasped at the thick red fluid seeping from under the man’s head. He froze when he heard what sounded like light footsteps from behind turning he watched a black cat gracefully pad toward him. He sighed allowing his muscles to relax and then reached down to pet the animal. The cat hissed and then scratched his out-stretched hand he cursed at the retreating black blur as it shot out the window and disappeared into the early dawn.
Henry heard a whimpering sound and followed it to a young man curled in a ball and covered in blood. Henry raced to the nearest place banging on the windows yelling excitedly for them to call the police.
Help arrived in a sea of flashing blue and red sparing no time blocking off the area with their yellow tape. Two Detectives and their Captain cautiously approached the body and then they went to the aide of the injured young man. The Captain ordered the area secured then he joined the doctor early in the process of examining the injured man stressing the importance of keeping him warm reducing his chances of shock.
The ME joined the two detectives offering them sterile gloves and specimen containers. By this time, they had been at the scene since a little after sunrise they were tired and wanted to get the crime scene wrapped up so they could begin putting the evidence and known facts together adding the pieces to solve the puzzle. They joined the Captain watching as they load the body on the stretcher. They peeled their gloves off with a snap and tossed them in the orange bag wiping the powder residue from their hands. An officer approached with the man who heard the shots and found the body.
“Hello I’m Captain Boggs Detective LaVole and Taylor, and Doctor Torres Medical E and you are ?
“Henry.”
“I heard a loud bang looked through that window over there and then I went in through the open back door. I saw the body on the floor and then found the other fella sitting in the corner and a black cat was in here, too.”
“You're sure, you saw no one else?” LaVole said keeping constant eye contact.
“Yep, only the three of us and that mean cat”
“Alright leave your info with the officer.” Then he told them to scan for anything and everything.”
“Yes sir.” Taylor said.
“If you need more gloves just yell,” Doc replied.
LaVole whistled for Taylor waving the camera guy over as well. They both rushed over and looked down where LaVole was pointing. It was bloody paw prints in a straight line leading to the other window. They took photos and one of Doc’s aides came over and removed a sample of the paw print.
Captain Boggs yelled for his Detectives to join him and he showed them the dozens of pieces of paper scattered all over the floor.
“What do you think?”
“Not sure, it’s almost the same shape as money, but wrong color.” Taylor answered.
“Grab a few samples and then go see Doc before he leaves.”
They tapped his arm, “Doc, you have anything to tell us yet?”
“Well he has two gunshot wounds, both in the back of the head; execution style, bruising around the neck and a single bruise on his inner left arm.”
“Damn,” Boggs uttered, frustrated. “LaVole, hand those to Doc for testing.
“I’ll know more after we run some tests, you two drop by later.”
“All right I have to get back to the station,” said the captain.
He ordered the building sealed and placed guards outside to keep the curious public out. They walked outside climbed into Lavole's car and drove to the station parking on the left side of the building; Captain Boggs followed close behind.
The two detectives entered the police station with the Captain a female officer joined them as they disappeared into the office and closed the door. The officer went to the computer desk and pulled up a blank file for the new case ready to take notes.
“Are you ready to begin?”
“Yes, sir”
“Let’s begin,” he said clearing his throat. “Case File 562; Building at 43rd and 3rd; one victim shot twice in the back of the head, one bruise on inner left arm and bruising around the throat. Second victim; traumatized with no injuries noted at this time.
LaVole removed his notebook from his inside jacket pocket, flipped a few pages, “We found a pool of blood surrounding his head, pieces of paper shaped like currency littered the floor and bloody paw prints, of what appears to be a cat. A homeless man named Henry said he heard two gun shots and came through the rear door and discovered the scene then called it in.”
“Taylor, do you have anything further to add?"
“It appears it may have been a botched deal. The second victim was in shock. Hopefully he’ll be able to give us a statement later.”
“All right, that’s all for now, you may leave.” he told the woman officer.
She nodded and closed the door on her way out. Boggs turned his attention to the two Detectives, “All right, don’t let this one get out of hand, don’t talk to the media and keep me posted.”
“Yes sir.” LaVole replied.
“Go see if Doc has an ID on the body.”
“Yes sir.” Taylor answered.
They jumped to their feet running down the stairs to the car. LaVole started the engine and headed for the Forensics building about a mile away.
LaVole parked out front and they stepped out of the car running up the stairs entering Doc’s lab. They saw him performing the autopsy, so they stood in the doorway until he said it safe to enter. Doc tilted his head back stretching his neck and spotted them out of the corner of his eye and waved them over.
“Hello, gents,” Doc said.
“Hey, Doc; what you got?” LaVole inquired.
“Let’s see, over there on my desk is wallet, keys, some coins and a business card. His name was James LaRosa thirty-two years old, brown hair, blue eyes and approximately a hundred and ninety pounds. Cause of death: two gunshot wounds to the back of the skull, possibly a 32 caliber revolver and I discovered a needle hole at the center of the bruise on his left arm; I’m still waiting for analysis from the lab.” Doc briefed them.
**********************************July
“Can we poke at the stuff?” Taylor asked.
“Sure,” Doc replied, yawning.
“Doc, what about the range of impact?” LaVole queried.
“Close range, there’s gun residue embedded in his scalp and he was on his knees; I found impressions from the cement floor on his knee caps, but what I can’t explain is the needle mark yet, the bullets killed him instantly.” Doc answered.
“Hmm---call us when the results come in,” he requested.
“Always,” he said, returning to the body. LaVole approached the desk looking at his partner’s face, “Taylor, what is it?”
“A picture of his wife,” he mumbled.
“And…” LaVole inquired further.
“She’s pregnant.” He told him.
LaVole sighed loudly, “Damn it, come on,”
“Where to?” Taylor asked.
“Lunch first then his wife.” LaVole suggested.
Taylor hesitated a moment, “Good idea, let’s roll,”
They quietly left Doc’s lab while he finished up the preliminaries on the autopsy. They walked down the stairs towards the car and climbed in. LaVole pulled away from the curb driving to the little café at the heart of their fair city: Rick’s Café.
LaVole parked out front; they stepped out of the car and entered the establishment. The hostess walked to them then escorted them to a table at the rear of the Café placing menus down and walked away. A few moments later she returned with two glasses of water; she took their order and left them to relax. The waitress appeared carrying their lunch on a silver tray and placed it before them walking towards the kitchen. They spent about thirty minutes savoring their hot lunch before delivering sad news to woman and the child she’s carrying will never see their father.
They quietly rose to their feet approaching the register and paid for their lunch. They walked outside climbing into the car; LaVole drove towards the Highlands on Grace Lane, number forty-one. He drove into the driveway turning the engine off and they exited the car walking up the path. Taylor reached over pushing the doorbell and they waited patiently.
A woman about six months pregnant appeared in the doorway; she looked at Taylor then glanced at LaVole, taking a slight breath feeling nervous, “Yes,”
“Mrs. LaRosa?” Taylor inquired.
“Yes, who are you?” she questioned.
“I’m Detective Taylor; my partner Detective LaVole; may we come in?” he asked.
“Yes, sure,” she replied, opening the door.
She opened the door allowing them to pass and they walked into the living room where they saw an older woman sitting on the couch knitting. She joined her on the couch while they stood off to the side of her and folded their hands trying to be professional.
“This is my mother; is there something wrong?” she inquired.
“We regret to inform you that your husband was found this morning; he was murdered; we’re terribly sorry.” LaVole told her, calmly.
The mother dropped her knitting needles as the daughter cried hysterically in her mother’s lap. They stood in silence for a few moments then cleared their throats to draw as mush as attention as they could from her.
“Ma’am, we’re sorry, but we need to know if he had any enemies, trouble at work or at home,” Taylor requested.
She sat up wiping the tears from her cheeks holding her mother’s hand, “Please, call me June; he uhm---we had no troubles here, but work was giving him a lot of trouble lately, mainly his boss; Peter Scanlon.”
“Do you know what kind?” LaVole queried further.
“He said he was cutting back on the overtime, but wanted him to work longer hours; he explained he needed the money for the baby, but…” she replied, whimpering.
“Can you tell me the place of business?” Taylor asked.
She couldn’t speak, so her mother intervened, “He worked for UA Parts, Used Auto Parts.” She replied.
“Thank you, ma’am; again, we’re sorry; we’ll show ourselves out.” LaVole told her, handing her a business card.
They nodded their heads turning about walking outside and over towards the car. They stepped inside closing their doors and Taylor picked up the mike requesting the address for the UA Parts. A male voice came over the speaker instructing them where to go; LaVole started the engine and back out of the driveway heading for thirty Nelson twenty-eight East Street.
LaVole drove through the parking lot putting the car along the side wall and they exited the car walking around to the front of the building entering the shop. They saw a few people shopping and one gentleman standing behind a counter reading a book. They approached him displaying their badges and requested Peter Scanlon’s presence. He picked up the phone dialing his office informing him he had two detectives looking for him. He told him to have them come to his office and discuss the problem there. The gentleman hung up the phone telling where his office was and they walked away heading for his office at the far right side of the narrow corridor. They politely knocked then turned the doorknob and entered his office.
They saw Peter sitting behind his desk typing on his computer, but jerked his head around when he heard the door open and saw them offering them the two chairs across from him. They sat down; Taylor pulled out his notebook and pen while LaVole stared at Peter; he had a little sweat on his forehead and appeared a bit nervous.
“I’m Detective LaVole; my partner Detective Taylor; are you all right, sir; you seem nervous?” he inquired.
“I’m fine, a little warm; what can I do for you?” Peter asked.
“Did you have a James LaRosa working for you?” he inquired.
“Yes, I do; he didn’t come in today; is there a problem?” he questioned, slightly hesitant.
LaVole glanced at Taylor then back to Peter, “Yes, he was found murdered this morning.”
“Oh, my God; how?” he asked, acting concerned.
“It’s under investigation; we can’t answer that, but rumor has it; you two didn’t get along very well,” LaVole inclined.
“We had our normal disagreements between boss and employee, but nothing out of the ordinary; what rumor’s?” he asked, very curious.
“We can’t say; did he have any friends here?” Taylor asked.
“Uhm---Andy and Paul; Paul didn’t come in today either.” He told them. “He wasn’t there was he?”
“No, he wasn’t; thank you for time; we’ll be in touch.” LaVole said, standing up with Taylor following him.
Peter stood up walking around his desk shaking their hands and escorted them to the front door, smiling. They walked around the building leaning upon the driver side with their arms folded and in deep thought.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” LaVole asked.
“Yep, let’s run it and go check on the other guy; let’s see if it’s Paul.” Taylor suggested.
“You’re on,” LaVole agreed.
They climbed into the car; Taylor removed the mike requesting information about Peter this time and LaVole drove towards the hospital to interrogate the survivor from the scene.
LaVole drove through the garage parking near the main entrance; they stepped of the car and walked up the path going inside approaching the reception desk. They displayed their badges identifying themselves and requested someone in charge. She quickly picked up the phone dialing for the doctor on call and told them to wait in the waiting area for him. They turned about strolling a few feet away and examined the paintings along the wall.
Approximately twenty minutes had passed when a tall man dressed in green came through the double doors swinging slowly and approached them with his hand extended. They shook hands to greet one another; they displayed their badges with their names to follow and the doctor escorted them through the narrow hallways towards the gentleman’s room from the scene. They noticed the guard out front giving him a quick hello then entered the room seeing a woman sitting at his side holding his hand and he was their resting, staring at her.
The doctor walked them over standing along the opposite side and told him who they were, but not to over exert yourself. The doctor quietly left the room closing the door behind him and they showed them their badges explaining why they were here.
“I’m LaVole; how are you feeling?” he asked.
“Achy, tired; what happened?” he inquired.
“You don’t remember?” Taylor questioned.
“I remember fighting with James and Andy was there with someone, I can’t see his face,” he replied, stuttering.
“It’s all right; you have slight head trauma, it’ll come back to you.” LaVole said. “Did you see where Andy went?”
“No, is he all right?” he asked.
“He’s missing,” Taylor answered. “Do you remember your name?”
“Paul; Paul Fury; this is my wife, Nancy,” he replied, softly.
“All right; that’s it for now, get some rest and we’ll talk tomorrow.” LaVole told him.
“Thank you,” he said, drifting off to sleep.
Paul’s wife stood up walking with them out into the corridor and they stood secretly in the corner by the window; she looked around making sure it was secure, “Before this happened, Paul got a phone call around nine that night; he hung it up and told me he needed to go out to see Peter and Andy.”
“Do you know who called?” LaVole inquired.
“No, he didn’t tell me, but he seemed irritated, angry; he grabbed his coat and stormed out slamming the door.” Nancy briefed them.
“Thanks for your help; we’ll check it out.” Taylor said.
Nancy smiled walking away returning to Paul in his room; they glanced at each other walking down the hall and exited the hospital. They quicken their pace towards the car climbing in and stared out the wind shield in deep thought.
“We have one dead, one witness who can’t remember the events and the other guy is missing.” LaVole replied feeling confused.
“Yep, and we have the black cat,” he replied.
“Black cat?” LaVole inquired, puzzled.
“Yeah, the cat was there the whole time; it could’ve gotten some blood or skin on him; he’s walking around with DNA all over his fur.” Taylor said, grinning.
“True,” LaVole whispered. “All right, have someone at the station trace the phone calls at Paul’s residence and get an address; let’s eat then grab some sleep.”
“Sounds good to me,” Taylor replied, nodding his head.
Taylor picked up the mike requesting the information LaVole needed; LaVole started the engine and drove out of the parking lot heading for a quiet restaurant in the city. They ordered a quiet dinner discussing the case and they stood up placing money onto the table exiting the restaurant. They climbed into the car; LaVole took Taylor home then he drove to his apartment to rest for the night.
The sun rose high above the city shining through LaVole’s bedroom window beaming in his eyes. He rolled over as the alarm clock sounded and reached over turning it off. He crawled out of his warm bed stumbling into the bathroom to clean up then got dressed and walked into the kitchen as Taylor entered his apartment meeting him there. They each savored a cup of hot coffee discussing the case when LaVole’s phone rang. Taylor picked it up handing it to him and wiped his face off.
“LaVole,” he said.
“I need you two to return to the crime scene, Andy’s waiting there; go inside and wait for him; I’m setting up safe house and food for him. I will notify his girlfriend to come here, be careful.” Boggs ordered.
“Yes, sir.” LaVole answered, hanging up the phone.
“What’s up?” Taylor inquired.
“Come on, I’ll tell you on the way.” He said.
They placed their coffee cups into the sink running out of his apartment down the hall and rode down in the elevator then outside jumping into the car. LaVole drove at top speed back to the crime scene parking in the alley and they exited the car walking towards the rear door. They cautiously entered the building seeing the outline of James’ body, and Paul’s in the corner.
Suddenly, Andy stepped in from the rear door seeing them; he was dirty, shaking all over and bleeding from his head and shoulder. They walked quickly to him examining him; he had cuts to the head and bullet wound in his left shoulder. LaVole called the Captain on his cell phone requesting a black and white meet them at the hospital to protect him. He agreed saying they will question him there then send him to the safe house and he will his girlfriend as well.
LaVole hung the phone; they covered him up as best as they could and took him outside to the car placing him into the backseat lying down on the seat. They climbed in, sirens blaring and flashing; he drove to the hospital at the emergency entrance where they saw a cruiser waiting for them. All together they entered the hospital requesting a doctor for his immediate need and they wheeled him into the operating room. LaVole led everyone into the waiting room as Boggs and a young lady came in. They introduced each other and waited for the doctor to return with the results.
“Henry came in with the black cat; I sent him over to Doc for testing,” Boggs informed them.
“Good, this Peter seems to be the guy we’re looking for.” Taylor inclined.
“Not yet, we need more to nail him.” He said.
The doctor came walking in looking for someone in charge; Captain Boggs stood up requesting the information and informed him of the case at hand.
“He’s fine, a slight infection from the bullet wound, a few stitches in his head and a few bruises. A few days here then he can go home.” The doctor replied.
“No, I’m posting guard outside of his door then he’ll go to a safe house. Doc, the bullet; may we have it; its evidence.” He inquired.
“Sure, follow me,” the doctor told him.
“Marcy; did Andy work for Peter at UA Parts?” LaVole asked.
“Yes he did; why?” she asked.
“Just wondering.” Taylor said.
Captain Boggs returned asking his detectives to follow him to Andy’s room for questioning. They quietly walked down the hall entering his room at the end on the left and saw him lying in bed all covered up with a few needles and tubes dangling from above his head.
“Andy, don’t push, but tell us what happened in the building.” Boggs instructed him.
Andy inhaled slowly, “Paul and I were going out for lunch; he needed to make a stop, to meet James and we went there. I was walking around, didn’t pay attention to much; they were discussing money or something, and they started to argue, threatening each other. Suddenly he pulled out a gun; I heard it being pulled back, I turned around; I saw the paper flying everywhere; he begged for his life and he made him stand on his knees and shot him twice in the head; I was…” he replied, hesitating.
“All right, Andy; who shot James?” LaVole asked directly.
Andy swallowed hard, “Paul,”
“What?” Taylor asked softly. “Why?”
“Thank, Andy, get some rest; Marcy’s here; there will be a guard outside to watch you both.” Boggs said. “Let’s go, gents,”
They exited his room standing in the hallway by the window and looked around. Boggs waved an officer over ordering him to stand guard outside of Paul’s room; he left them alone at the window.
“Okay, we got dealt a twist, work with me on this,” Boggs requested.
“We have one dead; he was shot by Paul, why?” LaVole queried.
“I feel this is about money; it smells like embezzlement, where does Peter fit in?” Taylor asked.
“They were working together on it; James found out; Paul tried to buy him off and he refused then got killed for it; Andy saw it all.” LaVole replied.
“He thought he killed Andy because he a gunshot wound and head injury.” Taylor added.
’This is so sick,” Boggs said, shrugging his shoulders. “We’ll stay here and question Paul; you take this and go to Forensics, test it and see what else he has then go get the trash at UA Parts; I’ll have a cruiser waiting there for you, but out of sight until you arrive.”
“Yes, sir.” LaVole replied, eagerly.
They practically ran out of the hospital towards the car jumping inside and LaVole drove to the Forensics building and parked along the curb screeching the tires.
They climbed out of the car running up the stairs inside of Doc’s lab and saw him playing with the cat on the slab with a ball of string. They felt it to be a little odd, but they walked in standing along of him and Taylor tapped his shoulder.
“Hey, Doc; having fun?” LaVole asked, being the joker.
“Yeah; this cat had all the answers we needed.” He replied, smiling.
“What?” Taylor asked, puzzled.
“The file is on my desk; the cat had blood and skin tissue embedded in its claws; the DNA matches a gentleman named, Peter Scanlon and Paul Fury. The paper that was discovered is regular printing paper, but if you look in the upper left corner, you will find three faint black dots; each company applies its symbol to their products, that’s theirs.” He briefed them.
“Here, test this against the other two and see they match; we’re heading over to UA Parts to see Peter, call me a.s.a.p. with the results.” LaVole said. “Thanks, Doc.”
“Thank the Black cat; he was our good luck charm in this one.” He said.
“True,” Taylor replied, laughing slightly.
They raced out of Doc’s lab running down the stairs and got into the car. LaVole peeled away from the curb leaving a trail of rubber behind and drove to UA Parts.
LaVole pulled up out front of the garage, the cruiser spotted them and pulled up behind them. They exited the vehicles walking inside and told the young lady not to call him; infact, one officer remained behind to make sure she didn’t. They enter through the double doors walking down to Peter’s office, knocked lightly turning the doorknob and walked in. Peter quickly rose to his feet staring at them, swallowing hard and sweat began to bead upon his forehead.
“What’s this about?” he asked, shaking in his shoes.
LaVole calmly stepped up to the desk leaning over with a grin, “Embezzlement, it’s a no-no,”
“What?” he uttered the question?
“You and Paul were taking the funds to enjoy the luxury life, Andy found out; Paul tried to pay him off; he refused and he killed him.” LaVole said.
“He also thought he killed Paul, but missed and Andy escaped hiding until he felt safe enough to call in and gave us the whole story.” Taylor added.
“I want my lawyer,” he told them.
“You’ll need one; officer, take out the trash,” LaVole replied, as his phone rang. “LaVole,”
He spoke a few words then hung up watching the officer cuff up Peter’s hands. Taylor looked at LaVole, “What is it?”
“All three bullets match and the bullets belong to a .32 caliber which is registered to a Peter Scanlon.” LaVole informed him.
They exited the building with everyone staring at them, shaking their heads in disgust at Peter and knowing Paul had his hands in it. They climbed into their cars riding back to the station to book him on Embezzlement and conspiracy to commit murder. The Detectives sat in Boggs office and gave him the entire confession from Peter. They left the station for a few days off for rest and relaxation, they hope.
The early morning rays breached the veil of gray haze, leaving the last vestiges of the storm far behind. Henry buttoned his worn sweater and ventured from his box in the alley near 43rd and 3rd Street to scavenge from the rain soaked neighborhood trash. As he was returning with his booty, he heard two gunshots echoing from inside the building behind him. Startled and curious, he dropped his things and ran to the window above his makeshift home. He quickly cleared the dirty glass with his sleeve and peered in. It looked like a man lying motionless on the floor; he cautiously entered the building through the rear and stumbled over to the body.
Henry gasped at the thick red fluid seeping from under the man’s head. He froze when he heard what sounded like light footsteps from behind turning he watched a black cat gracefully pad toward him. He sighed allowing his muscles to relax and then reached down to pet the animal. The cat hissed and then scratched his out-stretched hand he cursed at the retreating black blur as it shot out the window and disappeared into the early dawn.
Henry heard a whimpering sound and followed it to a young man curled in a ball and covered in blood. Henry raced to the nearest place banging on the windows yelling excitedly for them to call the police.
Help arrived in a sea of flashing blue and red sparing no time blocking off the area with their yellow tape. Two Detectives and their Captain cautiously approached the body and then they went to the aide of the injured young man. The Captain ordered the area secured then he joined the doctor early in the process of examining the injured man stressing the importance of keeping him warm reducing his chances of shock.
The ME joined the two detectives offering them sterile gloves and specimen containers. By this time, they had been at the scene since a little after sunrise they were tired and wanted to get the crime scene wrapped up so they could begin putting the evidence and known facts together adding the pieces to solve the puzzle. They joined the Captain watching as they load the body on the stretcher. They peeled their gloves off with a snap and tossed them in the orange bag wiping the powder residue from their hands. An officer approached with the man who heard the shots and found the body.
“Hello I’m Captain Boggs Detective LaVole and Taylor, and Doctor Torres Medical E and you are ?
“Henry.”
“I heard a loud bang looked through that window over there and then I went in through the open back door. I saw the body on the floor and then found the other fella sitting in the corner and a black cat was in here, too.”
“You're sure, you saw no one else?” LaVole said keeping constant eye contact.
“Yep, only the three of us and that mean cat”
“Alright leave your info with the officer.” Then he told them to scan for anything and everything.”
“Yes sir.” Taylor said.
“If you need more gloves just yell,” Doc replied.
LaVole whistled for Taylor waving the camera guy over as well. They both rushed over and looked down where LaVole was pointing. It was bloody paw prints in a straight line leading to the other window. They took photos and one of Doc’s aides came over and removed a sample of the paw print.
Captain Boggs yelled for his Detectives to join him and he showed them the dozens of pieces of paper scattered all over the floor.
“What do you think?”
“Not sure, it’s almost the same shape as money, but wrong color.” Taylor answered.
“Grab a few samples and then go see Doc before he leaves.”
They tapped his arm, “Doc, you have anything to tell us yet?”
“Well he has two gunshot wounds, both in the back of the head; execution style, bruising around the neck and a single bruise on his inner left arm.”
“Damn,” Boggs uttered, frustrated. “LaVole, hand those to Doc for testing.
“I’ll know more after we run some tests, you two drop by later.”
“All right I have to get back to the station,” said the captain.
He ordered the building sealed and placed guards outside to keep the curious public out. They walked outside climbed into Lavole's car and drove to the station parking on the left side of the building; Captain Boggs followed close behind.
The two detectives entered the police station with the Captain a female officer joined them as they disappeared into the office and closed the door. The officer went to the computer desk and pulled up a blank file for the new case ready to take notes.
“Are you ready to begin?”
“Yes, sir”
“Let’s begin,” he said clearing his throat. “Case File 562; Building at 43rd and 3rd; one victim shot twice in the back of the head, one bruise on inner left arm and bruising around the throat. Second victim; traumatized with no injuries noted at this time.
LaVole removed his notebook from his inside jacket pocket, flipped a few pages, “We found a pool of blood surrounding his head, pieces of paper shaped like currency littered the floor and bloody paw prints, of what appears to be a cat. A homeless man named Henry said he heard two gun shots and came through the rear door and discovered the scene then called it in.”
“Taylor, do you have anything further to add?"
“It appears it may have been a botched deal. The second victim was in shock. Hopefully he’ll be able to give us a statement later.”
“All right, that’s all for now, you may leave.” he told the woman officer.
She nodded and closed the door on her way out. Boggs turned his attention to the two Detectives, “All right, don’t let this one get out of hand, don’t talk to the media and keep me posted.”
“Yes sir.” LaVole replied.
“Go see if Doc has an ID on the body.”
“Yes sir.” Taylor answered.
They jumped to their feet running down the stairs to the car. LaVole started the engine and headed for the Forensics building about a mile away.
LaVole parked out front and they stepped out of the car running up the stairs entering Doc’s lab. They saw him performing the autopsy, so they stood in the doorway until he said it safe to enter. Doc tilted his head back stretching his neck and spotted them out of the corner of his eye and waved them over.
“Hello, gents,” Doc said.
“Hey, Doc; what you got?” LaVole inquired.
“Let’s see, over there on my desk is wallet, keys, some coins and a business card. His name was James LaRosa thirty-two years old, brown hair, blue eyes and approximately a hundred and ninety pounds. Cause of death: two gunshot wounds to the back of the skull, possibly a 32 caliber revolver and I discovered a needle hole at the center of the bruise on his left arm; I’m still waiting for analysis from the lab.” Doc briefed them.
**********************************July
“Can we poke at the stuff?” Taylor asked.
“Sure,” Doc replied, yawning.
“Doc, what about the range of impact?” LaVole queried.
“Close range, there’s gun residue embedded in his scalp and he was on his knees; I found impressions from the cement floor on his knee caps, but what I can’t explain is the needle mark yet, the bullets killed him instantly.” Doc answered.
“Hmm---call us when the results come in,” he requested.
“Always,” he said, returning to the body. LaVole approached the desk looking at his partner’s face, “Taylor, what is it?”
“A picture of his wife,” he mumbled.
“And…” LaVole inquired further.
“She’s pregnant.” He told him.
LaVole sighed loudly, “Damn it, come on,”
“Where to?” Taylor asked.
“Lunch first then his wife.” LaVole suggested.
Taylor hesitated a moment, “Good idea, let’s roll,”
They quietly left Doc’s lab while he finished up the preliminaries on the autopsy. They walked down the stairs towards the car and climbed in. LaVole pulled away from the curb driving to the little café at the heart of their fair city: Rick’s Café.
LaVole parked out front; they stepped out of the car and entered the establishment. The hostess walked to them then escorted them to a table at the rear of the Café placing menus down and walked away. A few moments later she returned with two glasses of water; she took their order and left them to relax. The waitress appeared carrying their lunch on a silver tray and placed it before them walking towards the kitchen. They spent about thirty minutes savoring their hot lunch before delivering sad news to woman and the child she’s carrying will never see their father.
They quietly rose to their feet approaching the register and paid for their lunch. They walked outside climbing into the car; LaVole drove towards the Highlands on Grace Lane, number forty-one. He drove into the driveway turning the engine off and they exited the car walking up the path. Taylor reached over pushing the doorbell and they waited patiently.
A woman about six months pregnant appeared in the doorway; she looked at Taylor then glanced at LaVole, taking a slight breath feeling nervous, “Yes,”
“Mrs. LaRosa?” Taylor inquired.
“Yes, who are you?” she questioned.
“I’m Detective Taylor; my partner Detective LaVole; may we come in?” he asked.
“Yes, sure,” she replied, opening the door.
She opened the door allowing them to pass and they walked into the living room where they saw an older woman sitting on the couch knitting. She joined her on the couch while they stood off to the side of her and folded their hands trying to be professional.
“This is my mother; is there something wrong?” she inquired.
“We regret to inform you that your husband was found this morning; he was murdered; we’re terribly sorry.” LaVole told her, calmly.
The mother dropped her knitting needles as the daughter cried hysterically in her mother’s lap. They stood in silence for a few moments then cleared their throats to draw as mush as attention as they could from her.
“Ma’am, we’re sorry, but we need to know if he had any enemies, trouble at work or at home,” Taylor requested.
She sat up wiping the tears from her cheeks holding her mother’s hand, “Please, call me June; he uhm---we had no troubles here, but work was giving him a lot of trouble lately, mainly his boss; Peter Scanlon.”
“Do you know what kind?” LaVole queried further.
“He said he was cutting back on the overtime, but wanted him to work longer hours; he explained he needed the money for the baby, but…” she replied, whimpering.
“Can you tell me the place of business?” Taylor asked.
She couldn’t speak, so her mother intervened, “He worked for UA Parts, Used Auto Parts.” She replied.
“Thank you, ma’am; again, we’re sorry; we’ll show ourselves out.” LaVole told her, handing her a business card.
They nodded their heads turning about walking outside and over towards the car. They stepped inside closing their doors and Taylor picked up the mike requesting the address for the UA Parts. A male voice came over the speaker instructing them where to go; LaVole started the engine and back out of the driveway heading for thirty Nelson twenty-eight East Street.
LaVole drove through the parking lot putting the car along the side wall and they exited the car walking around to the front of the building entering the shop. They saw a few people shopping and one gentleman standing behind a counter reading a book. They approached him displaying their badges and requested Peter Scanlon’s presence. He picked up the phone dialing his office informing him he had two detectives looking for him. He told him to have them come to his office and discuss the problem there. The gentleman hung up the phone telling where his office was and they walked away heading for his office at the far right side of the narrow corridor. They politely knocked then turned the doorknob and entered his office.
They saw Peter sitting behind his desk typing on his computer, but jerked his head around when he heard the door open and saw them offering them the two chairs across from him. They sat down; Taylor pulled out his notebook and pen while LaVole stared at Peter; he had a little sweat on his forehead and appeared a bit nervous.
“I’m Detective LaVole; my partner Detective Taylor; are you all right, sir; you seem nervous?” he inquired.
“I’m fine, a little warm; what can I do for you?” Peter asked.
“Did you have a James LaRosa working for you?” he inquired.
“Yes, I do; he didn’t come in today; is there a problem?” he questioned, slightly hesitant.
LaVole glanced at Taylor then back to Peter, “Yes, he was found murdered this morning.”
“Oh, my God; how?” he asked, acting concerned.
“It’s under investigation; we can’t answer that, but rumor has it; you two didn’t get along very well,” LaVole inclined.
“We had our normal disagreements between boss and employee, but nothing out of the ordinary; what rumor’s?” he asked, very curious.
“We can’t say; did he have any friends here?” Taylor asked.
“Uhm---Andy and Paul; Paul didn’t come in today either.” He told them. “He wasn’t there was he?”
“No, he wasn’t; thank you for time; we’ll be in touch.” LaVole said, standing up with Taylor following him.
Peter stood up walking around his desk shaking their hands and escorted them to the front door, smiling. They walked around the building leaning upon the driver side with their arms folded and in deep thought.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” LaVole asked.
“Yep, let’s run it and go check on the other guy; let’s see if it’s Paul.” Taylor suggested.
“You’re on,” LaVole agreed.
They climbed into the car; Taylor removed the mike requesting information about Peter this time and LaVole drove towards the hospital to interrogate the survivor from the scene.
LaVole drove through the garage parking near the main entrance; they stepped of the car and walked up the path going inside approaching the reception desk. They displayed their badges identifying themselves and requested someone in charge. She quickly picked up the phone dialing for the doctor on call and told them to wait in the waiting area for him. They turned about strolling a few feet away and examined the paintings along the wall.
Approximately twenty minutes had passed when a tall man dressed in green came through the double doors swinging slowly and approached them with his hand extended. They shook hands to greet one another; they displayed their badges with their names to follow and the doctor escorted them through the narrow hallways towards the gentleman’s room from the scene. They noticed the guard out front giving him a quick hello then entered the room seeing a woman sitting at his side holding his hand and he was their resting, staring at her.
The doctor walked them over standing along the opposite side and told him who they were, but not to over exert yourself. The doctor quietly left the room closing the door behind him and they showed them their badges explaining why they were here.
“I’m LaVole; how are you feeling?” he asked.
“Achy, tired; what happened?” he inquired.
“You don’t remember?” Taylor questioned.
“I remember fighting with James and Andy was there with someone, I can’t see his face,” he replied, stuttering.
“It’s all right; you have slight head trauma, it’ll come back to you.” LaVole said. “Did you see where Andy went?”
“No, is he all right?” he asked.
“He’s missing,” Taylor answered. “Do you remember your name?”
“Paul; Paul Fury; this is my wife, Nancy,” he replied, softly.
“All right; that’s it for now, get some rest and we’ll talk tomorrow.” LaVole told him.
“Thank you,” he said, drifting off to sleep.
Paul’s wife stood up walking with them out into the corridor and they stood secretly in the corner by the window; she looked around making sure it was secure, “Before this happened, Paul got a phone call around nine that night; he hung it up and told me he needed to go out to see Peter and Andy.”
“Do you know who called?” LaVole inquired.
“No, he didn’t tell me, but he seemed irritated, angry; he grabbed his coat and stormed out slamming the door.” Nancy briefed them.
“Thanks for your help; we’ll check it out.” Taylor said.
Nancy smiled walking away returning to Paul in his room; they glanced at each other walking down the hall and exited the hospital. They quicken their pace towards the car climbing in and stared out the wind shield in deep thought.
“We have one dead, one witness who can’t remember the events and the other guy is missing.” LaVole replied feeling confused.
“Yep, and we have the black cat,” he replied.
“Black cat?” LaVole inquired, puzzled.
“Yeah, the cat was there the whole time; it could’ve gotten some blood or skin on him; he’s walking around with DNA all over his fur.” Taylor said, grinning.
“True,” LaVole whispered. “All right, have someone at the station trace the phone calls at Paul’s residence and get an address; let’s eat then grab some sleep.”
“Sounds good to me,” Taylor replied, nodding his head.
Taylor picked up the mike requesting the information LaVole needed; LaVole started the engine and drove out of the parking lot heading for a quiet restaurant in the city. They ordered a quiet dinner discussing the case and they stood up placing money onto the table exiting the restaurant. They climbed into the car; LaVole took Taylor home then he drove to his apartment to rest for the night.
The sun rose high above the city shining through LaVole’s bedroom window beaming in his eyes. He rolled over as the alarm clock sounded and reached over turning it off. He crawled out of his warm bed stumbling into the bathroom to clean up then got dressed and walked into the kitchen as Taylor entered his apartment meeting him there. They each savored a cup of hot coffee discussing the case when LaVole’s phone rang. Taylor picked it up handing it to him and wiped his face off.
“LaVole,” he said.
“I need you two to return to the crime scene, Andy’s waiting there; go inside and wait for him; I’m setting up safe house and food for him. I will notify his girlfriend to come here, be careful.” Boggs ordered.
“Yes, sir.” LaVole answered, hanging up the phone.
“What’s up?” Taylor inquired.
“Come on, I’ll tell you on the way.” He said.
They placed their coffee cups into the sink running out of his apartment down the hall and rode down in the elevator then outside jumping into the car. LaVole drove at top speed back to the crime scene parking in the alley and they exited the car walking towards the rear door. They cautiously entered the building seeing the outline of James’ body, and Paul’s in the corner.
Suddenly, Andy stepped in from the rear door seeing them; he was dirty, shaking all over and bleeding from his head and shoulder. They walked quickly to him examining him; he had cuts to the head and bullet wound in his left shoulder. LaVole called the Captain on his cell phone requesting a black and white meet them at the hospital to protect him. He agreed saying they will question him there then send him to the safe house and he will his girlfriend as well.
LaVole hung the phone; they covered him up as best as they could and took him outside to the car placing him into the backseat lying down on the seat. They climbed in, sirens blaring and flashing; he drove to the hospital at the emergency entrance where they saw a cruiser waiting for them. All together they entered the hospital requesting a doctor for his immediate need and they wheeled him into the operating room. LaVole led everyone into the waiting room as Boggs and a young lady came in. They introduced each other and waited for the doctor to return with the results.
“Henry came in with the black cat; I sent him over to Doc for testing,” Boggs informed them.
“Good, this Peter seems to be the guy we’re looking for.” Taylor inclined.
“Not yet, we need more to nail him.” He said.
The doctor came walking in looking for someone in charge; Captain Boggs stood up requesting the information and informed him of the case at hand.
“He’s fine, a slight infection from the bullet wound, a few stitches in his head and a few bruises. A few days here then he can go home.” The doctor replied.
“No, I’m posting guard outside of his door then he’ll go to a safe house. Doc, the bullet; may we have it; its evidence.” He inquired.
“Sure, follow me,” the doctor told him.
“Marcy; did Andy work for Peter at UA Parts?” LaVole asked.
“Yes he did; why?” she asked.
“Just wondering.” Taylor said.
Captain Boggs returned asking his detectives to follow him to Andy’s room for questioning. They quietly walked down the hall entering his room at the end on the left and saw him lying in bed all covered up with a few needles and tubes dangling from above his head.
“Andy, don’t push, but tell us what happened in the building.” Boggs instructed him.
Andy inhaled slowly, “Paul and I were going out for lunch; he needed to make a stop, to meet James and we went there. I was walking around, didn’t pay attention to much; they were discussing money or something, and they started to argue, threatening each other. Suddenly he pulled out a gun; I heard it being pulled back, I turned around; I saw the paper flying everywhere; he begged for his life and he made him stand on his knees and shot him twice in the head; I was…” he replied, hesitating.
“All right, Andy; who shot James?” LaVole asked directly.
Andy swallowed hard, “Paul,”
“What?” Taylor asked softly. “Why?”
“Thank, Andy, get some rest; Marcy’s here; there will be a guard outside to watch you both.” Boggs said. “Let’s go, gents,”
They exited his room standing in the hallway by the window and looked around. Boggs waved an officer over ordering him to stand guard outside of Paul’s room; he left them alone at the window.
“Okay, we got dealt a twist, work with me on this,” Boggs requested.
“We have one dead; he was shot by Paul, why?” LaVole queried.
“I feel this is about money; it smells like embezzlement, where does Peter fit in?” Taylor asked.
“They were working together on it; James found out; Paul tried to buy him off and he refused then got killed for it; Andy saw it all.” LaVole replied.
“He thought he killed Andy because he a gunshot wound and head injury.” Taylor added.
’This is so sick,” Boggs said, shrugging his shoulders. “We’ll stay here and question Paul; you take this and go to Forensics, test it and see what else he has then go get the trash at UA Parts; I’ll have a cruiser waiting there for you, but out of sight until you arrive.”
“Yes, sir.” LaVole replied, eagerly.
They practically ran out of the hospital towards the car jumping inside and LaVole drove to the Forensics building and parked along the curb screeching the tires.
They climbed out of the car running up the stairs inside of Doc’s lab and saw him playing with the cat on the slab with a ball of string. They felt it to be a little odd, but they walked in standing along of him and Taylor tapped his shoulder.
“Hey, Doc; having fun?” LaVole asked, being the joker.
“Yeah; this cat had all the answers we needed.” He replied, smiling.
“What?” Taylor asked, puzzled.
“The file is on my desk; the cat had blood and skin tissue embedded in its claws; the DNA matches a gentleman named, Peter Scanlon and Paul Fury. The paper that was discovered is regular printing paper, but if you look in the upper left corner, you will find three faint black dots; each company applies its symbol to their products, that’s theirs.” He briefed them.
“Here, test this against the other two and see they match; we’re heading over to UA Parts to see Peter, call me a.s.a.p. with the results.” LaVole said. “Thanks, Doc.”
“Thank the Black cat; he was our good luck charm in this one.” He said.
“True,” Taylor replied, laughing slightly.
They raced out of Doc’s lab running down the stairs and got into the car. LaVole peeled away from the curb leaving a trail of rubber behind and drove to UA Parts.
LaVole pulled up out front of the garage, the cruiser spotted them and pulled up behind them. They exited the vehicles walking inside and told the young lady not to call him; infact, one officer remained behind to make sure she didn’t. They enter through the double doors walking down to Peter’s office, knocked lightly turning the doorknob and walked in. Peter quickly rose to his feet staring at them, swallowing hard and sweat began to bead upon his forehead.
“What’s this about?” he asked, shaking in his shoes.
LaVole calmly stepped up to the desk leaning over with a grin, “Embezzlement, it’s a no-no,”
“What?” he uttered the question?
“You and Paul were taking the funds to enjoy the luxury life, Andy found out; Paul tried to pay him off; he refused and he killed him.” LaVole said.
“He also thought he killed Paul, but missed and Andy escaped hiding until he felt safe enough to call in and gave us the whole story.” Taylor added.
“I want my lawyer,” he told them.
“You’ll need one; officer, take out the trash,” LaVole replied, as his phone rang. “LaVole,”
He spoke a few words then hung up watching the officer cuff up Peter’s hands. Taylor looked at LaVole, “What is it?”
“All three bullets match and the bullets belong to a .32 caliber which is registered to a Peter Scanlon.” LaVole informed him.
They exited the building with everyone staring at them, shaking their heads in disgust at Peter and knowing Paul had his hands in it. They climbed into their cars riding back to the station to book him on Embezzlement and conspiracy to commit murder. The Detectives sat in Boggs office and gave him the entire confession from Peter. They left the station for a few days off for rest and relaxation, they hope.
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