Chapter Twenty-nine
Union Plaza Hotel…Room 3023...Tuesday, Feb 24, 2009…5:00pm
Wally had left Judy in the Hotel's security holding cell with half a dozen uniforms, all of whom he knew personally, and for a minimum of ten years each. He wasn't taking any chances here, this was some serious shit. He looked around the room tied off with yellow barrier tape and shook his head slowly. What a fucking mess! The poor thing put up quite a fight he thought before whoever did this went to work on her, or him, whatever, its not that it mattered much at this point. Whatever services the family planned would have to be closed casket, that's for sure. A female uniform appeared at in the doorway and gestured for him to join her. Whitey and that weasel Iggie were probably here now. He glanced at his watch, they were late, there must have been more traffic then he had allowed for in his original estimate. Iggie was sure to mention that as soon as he went down to fetch them.
"What is it Shaw," he asked the uniform.
"There are a couple of shields and a citizen from LA in the lobby asking for you," the tall blonde officer said.
"Yeah, I was expecting them. Tell the command post that I'll be down in a minute," Wally instructed taking a handkerchief from is jacket pocket and mopping his brow.
The room was air-conditioned but this much gore had caused him to break a stress sweat. He couldn't swear to it as he had only met Rhonda once or twice at a poker game when she was married to Whitey, before the change. But under the circumstances he was pretty sure what was left of her was scattered around the bloody room. He wasn't looking forward to breaking the news to Whitey but as unpleasant as that would be he was sorry that the task of telling Dr. Looney would fall to his old buddy. The thought of it turned his stomach, partly out of compassion for his friend and partly because of the guilty relief that he didn't have to do it. He walked over to the nightstand nearest the bathroom and made a note of the time on the digital clock.
It read 1:15 which is where it froze after being struck with something heavy. Wally looked down at a thick terrycloth bath towel on the floor beside the table. It was still damp and it was one of the few items in the room that wasn't soiled with blood or some other form of bodily fluid or matter. This must have been where she was first attacked. He looked back at the clock and decided that she had likely been knocked back onto the nightstand, cracking the clock with her weight and the force at which she had been propelled backward. Wally took his cell phone and snapped a quick digital picture of an open wallet with a half exposed California driver's license. You could make out half of the photo ID hoping that would be all they would need for a positive ID on John/Jane Doe, and left the room to see what was what with Whitey and the LAPD.
LVMPD Motor Pool...Tuesday, Feb 24, 2009…5:30pm
Shift changes were always chaotic at the precinct, patrol cars coming and going, off duty officers rushing home to the family or out to the casinos for a chance at winning the lottery Vegas-style, before winding down for the day. It was a good place to hide in plain sight, not that I needed the distraction, but chaos always makes it easier to blend in without question, especially when one is dressed for the part. Queer how humans think there is safety in numbers, there isn't you know, not when one is determined. Hadn't that fact been proven time and again in places like Columbine, Beirut, or The World Trade Center? Anyway, it has been my experience for the length of my career, if you can call what I do for sport a career that human beings tend to mind their own business as they go about their business, especially if one gives them no cause to do otherwise. On the few occasions where I have run into a nosey-Nellie I used them as wet stones for my blade, pissant man-jacks!
What I seek should be in the evidence room or possibly within a computer lab of some sort, depending on the level of sophistication this berg has. It's no Scotland Yard for certain, but then that would be an unfair expectation. Given the number of Constables at this location there was likely to be equal chaos inside so I am not expecting any issue with maneuvering at will upon my entrance. Still, a good soldier is a prepared soldier, so I'll un-strap my weapon from the uncomfortable holster portion of my costume. Yanks are so enamored with firepower, so many choices on this belt, no wonder there are so many accidental shootings in the States! Fiddlesticks, it's no concern of mine, to the task at hand now.
Taking care of the Turk had cost me precious moments but was necessary as I had arrived on the scene none too soon! I knew better than to trust the good doctor's safety to this rube friend of Roode's, he was a thirty year amateur! She would be safe for now while I recovered the little jewel she found, and right under my own nose! I must say, I am quite embarassed. That little revelation was quite a surprise. I almost gasped audibly from my listening post when I heard Roode explain everything to his wartime buddy. Telephony has always been a hobby of mine and those skills have paid dividends over the years. I must be slipping not to have expected technology to have advanced beyond even my ability to keep track of the innovations. No matter, I knew what I was looking for and once in my hand I will assure myself that no trail exists beyond what I intend to exist. Likely there was nothing to worry about, but again, a good soldier and all that rubbish.
Ah Mei Li, my little butterfly, you were more clever than I gave you credit for. That will be the last time I allow myself to let anyone close enough to do me any real harm, no matter how slight. I taught you well little flower, too well, and allowed you to think yourself my equal, silly child. Hassan saved me the task of dealing with your ambition. Still, I would have rather you had not given him cause to. Even in death, I miss your company, in spite of your betrayal. You were the only thing I ever loved more than myself. I will explain that to Roode when he asks his twenty questions before his demise. I owe him that much after what the Turk did to his first love…
No comments:
Post a Comment