Unfinished Business. C. A. Walters Walters
be a laugh riot at a bar mitzvah! Anyway, here’s what we’ve got so far.” Simon handed each of the detectives a copy of the report he had created.
Putting his reading glasses on, Wilson read: Forensic report on the demise of one “James McCutcheon”. Approximate time of death: between 2300 and 2400 hours, Friday, April first 2008.
Cause of death: exsanguination due to severing of both carotid arteries, both jugular veins. Contributing factors: evisceration, blunt trauma to the left temporal region. Sufficient to cause short to long term unconsciousness, but not death.
“So our vic bled to death, that’s what all the mumbo jumbo says, huh” asked Ron.
“Yes, that’s what all the “mumbo jumbo” says”, replied Simon. Then whoever did this gutted him like a deer. The cut across the throat was made in one motion, very efficient.”
“So our man is trained in the use of edged weapons. Martial artist, former military. Something like that.” said Wilson.
“Probably a good guess, until we get more evidence” said Simon. “Your victim was approximately 5’10, weighed 182 pounds. So whoever picked him up and carried him into the woods wasn’t exactly a wimp, either.”
“Great, so we’ve got some sort of strong, trained killer running around. Just what we needed to make the spring complete” said Wilson.
“At least it’s not just some teenager holed up in a cabin getting a little nookie, and making mama all frantic that her “angel” has been kidnapped by terrorists” said Ron.
“I just hope this is an isolated incident, and not part of something bigger”, said Wilson. He had a bad feeling about this one, his gut was telling him it’s not exactly going to be like a case on C.S.I., find some clues and everything falls into place like a demented jigsaw puzzle.
“Any other clues from the scene?” asked Ron.
“Nothing, really. The perp apparently wore some sort of moccasin, or homemade shoe, the tracks were all smooth, no heel print, no tread The shoe size measures out at around a size 13 though, so that’s a start, but there’s one weird thing.”
“What’s that”, asked Wilson.
“Well, in the area where the ground was soft, and kind of muddy, the perp apparently smoothed the ground out after he stepped on it, but in the more solid areas, he didn’t bother. Almost like he didn’t care if we got his prints. I guess since we can’t get a tread, he was right, it didn’t matter” said Simon.
Yeah, except where we could see a good impression of his foot in the shoe, thought Wilson. This guy seems to have all the angles covered. Older building, no surveillance cameras in the parking lot, secluded, no witnesses. I sure hope he left something forensics picked up on.
“Woolgathering detective?” asked Simon.
“No, just putting it all into perspective in my mind. Did we get anything else from the scene?”
“Not that I can gather, you’ll have to check with the guys in the M.E. lab, see if they got any hair or fiber or anything from the body.”
“Thanks, Simon.” said Wilson, “if you get anything else give me a call or send an e-mail.”
“Will do, boss” said Simon. “This is one for the books, huh?”
They left Simon to his machines and data analysis, and trekked on over to the M.E.’s office. The Medical Examiner was an older man, four years in the marine corps, then out to complete medical school.
Why he opted for this particular specialty, nobody really knew, but his reputation showed him to be one of the best in the Country. Sometimes, it seemed he could work magic, even with little to nothing to go by.
“Well, what have you got for us on the nursing home murder, Frank” Wilson asked. Wilson and Frank Richey had been friends since the day Wilson had joined the force.
“Well, as we thought, cause of death was obvious. There was blunt trauma to the temporal region of the cranium, but that didn’t lead to death. It was, however, struck before his throat was cut.” Replied Richey.
“The slash across the throat was done with precision. Straight across, deep enough to get both carotids and both jugulars at the same time. Whoever did this knew what he was doing.”
“Yeah, we figured that. Martial artist, Military, Hunter, something. But is there anything else?” asked Ron.
“The shape of the wound, the depth of the abdominal wound, and the cleanness of the edges of each wound show that the blade was extremely sharp, almost like a razor.” said Richey.
“Also, with the particular markings on the bony structures of the neck, and a nick on the bottom of the sternum, I can say with pretty good certainty that this was a particular kind of knife, known as a ‘Tanto’ knife, used by special forces, SEALS, etc. We found some residue in the bone, and after running it through the mass spectrometer, it came back as high carbon steel, the particular formula known as ‘Solingen’ steel, made in Germany.”
“Okay then, that gives us something to work with. How many places can you get a knife like that?” Wilson said.
“Only a few hundred” replied Ron. “Very popular design, sold in most gun stores, sporting goods shops, and flea markets.”
“Gee, thanks a lot Mr. Doom & Gloom. I guess that really doesn’t help much at this point, but it’s still important information Frank, thanks for all your help.” said Wilson.
“Any time. I’ll keep looking, but this seems like a pretty straight forward case. Particulate matter, plant particulates, all come from the area around the murder site.” “Sorry I couldn’t be more help, guys”
“That’s okay, Simon, you’re still the best. Maybe we’ll get lucky and this will be a one-time thing, jealous husband, drug deal gone bad, something like that.
As they were driving back to the office, James remembered the strange phone call that morning. “Hey, Detective Wilson, what about the lady who said she saw an ‘alien’ at the nursing home last night, I wonder if the two things are related.” He said.
“You know what, you may have something there, I’ll get her address, and we’ll go pay her a visit.” Replied Wilson. As it turned out, the address was one of the houses not too far from the very nursing home where the murder occurred. Driving up to the house, they could see the edge of the nursing home parking lot, off in the distance. There were some trees in between, but because the Home was on a hill, it was still visible. Most of the intervening space was covered in trees, and very hard to see. Knocking on the door, the detectives stood and waited in the afternoon sunshine. A woman’s voice called out “just a minute!” from inside the house. Then, “Who is it? If you’re selling magazines, or religion, you can just go away, I don’t want any!” called a raspy female voice.
“Detectives Wilson and James, State Police, Ma’am” replied Detective Wilson as he held his badge up to the peephole in the door.
“Oh, well, do come in!” The door opened, revealing a lady obviously on the far side of sixty, dressed in a lovely green dress, with a strand of pearls around her neck. Silver hair curled over her shoulders, and a black and white cat sat looking at the two men from its perch on the shelf above the couch.
“Welcome, I’m so glad you came. Shenanigans like this, I tell you, those aliens just won’t leave us poor old folks alone.”
After leading the two men into her living room, she offered them coffee and homemade cookies. Not wanting to insult her, they accepted her kind offer. Then the wonderful aroma of fresh coffee and chocolate chip cookies preceded the lady into the room.
“Now ma’am, can you tell us exactly what you saw last night?” asked Wilson, as he bit into a little taste of heaven.
“Well,