Chapter Three
1352 Words
The ride towards the crime scene was going smoothly until Cass nearly rear-ended a vehicle, a dark red 2010 Toyota Corolla, in front of us. “Can't you see the lights?!” she yelled in vain. The driver a female with long dark brown curly hair glared “What the hell?” eyeing back at us through her rearview mirror. Obviously, she is frustrated that she has nowhere to pull over to let us pass. Morning rush hour, always fun. She seems to be headed in the same direction as us. Interesting.
After driving a few more blocks, the Corolla driver is able to pull over. Cass flies past mouthing “Thank you.” I just shake my head at Cass's antics. She's in an awful hurry this morning. “Slow down, Cass, I'm pretty certain that the body isn't going to go anywhere,” I casually state. “There are patrol officers at the scene securing it.” Normally, she isn't like this.
The area of the city where the nightclub is located has fallen into a ragged disrepair state. What once used to be home to thriving business for the former industrial workers, now has become a beacon sadly to those of the same appearance, usually through no fault of their own. Like begat like? I like to imagine what this part of the city used to look like back in its heyday. That would have been something to see. Maybe if we can get the crime rate back under control, then maybe, people will begin to come back into Wolfdale City once more. “Keep dreaming, Mike,” I muttered. “Huh?” Cass questions, bringing me out of my brief daydream. “What?” I question back. “Whatever, Black.”
Cass pulls the GMC Terrain into the gravel lot that is used for parking. The Roundhouse was in fact part of an actual roundhouse used for the railroad that used to visit the city on its daily routes. So, the City Council decided to have an outside entrepreneur turn it into a nightclub. Urban renewal. However, it has become a virtual beehive for illicit activities. The building still looks rundown on the outside. I suppose granting the liquor license first was more important than getting the building in better shape? Someone from the Health Department was paid to look the other way. That's an opinion that I keep close to myself, as I have no physical evidence to prove so otherwise.
Cass and I climb out of the SUV with our badges on display and make our way towards the roped-off alley. In my peripheral vision, I catch the same 2010 dark red Toyota Corolla slowly driving past, heading away from us. The alley behind the nightclub is disgusting in both looks and smell. Garbage litters the ground around the overfilled dumpster. There is a stack of rotting wood pallets leaning up against the back wall of the club. Slumped in a mass up against the back door, is our victim. The forensic team, Cass and I are anxiously awaiting the medical examiner's go-ahead to search the scene. He's already contacted the Prosecuting Attorney Kane Riesling to get the proper paperwork started. We need the go-ahead from the judge to proceed. I may be an ass, but I do go “by the book”. I'm meticulously serious about my job. Homicide cases are not one to screw up on. Families are expecting us to help bring justice for their lost members. “I want everything gone over with a fine-tooth comb. Nothing gets missed. I don't care how tiny or even insignificant it seems. Do not miss a single thing. Do you understand?” the ME barks out the order to all of us. “Yes, Sir,” we answer.
Our victim on the first observation at least to me died from a massive blow to the head. Seeing he has a gash in the back of his skull and his blood is smeared down the back door from which he fell. But I'll leave the actual cause of death up to the medical examiner.
The only advantage that this particular crime scene provides is absolute privacy. No media personnel of any kind comes into this area. Ever. Is this strange? Probably. Do I care at the said moment? None whatsoever. We can do a thorough job at the scene without having the annoying interruptions to respond to questions that we obviously don't have the answers to, yet.
As the forensic team conducts their general sweep of the scene, Cass and I take this opportunity to find and witnesses to question. Again, the area around The Roundhouse is eerily quiet. Very strange. How can there be no one around? Who reported seeing the victim? My brain is pounding as a headache is starting to begin. One major downfall of not eating breakfast. We continue to sweep the area looking for anyone who may have heard or seen anything that might be willing to help us figure out what exactly transpired here. But to no avail? Meanwhile, Cass and I have seemed to have found our way behind the nightclub and near the crime scene.
“Wait, what's that scent?” I ask myself in my head. “I missed it the first time. A rogue?” Is the scent coming from the victim or from a familiar figure slowly working her way near our crime scene? “No, there can not be any other werewolves in Wolfdale City. I would have picked up on them. I am certain of this. I am of alpha blood after all,” I keep saying to myself.
As the figure continues to move in my direction, the scent does not get stronger. Okay, so it is local. Was the victim a wolf? The figure, a female, is not a wolf. She is, however, getting too close to our crime scene. She is going to cause major trouble if she doesn't stop doing whatever it is she is doing. I don't want the crime scene contaminated by her carelessness. It almost looks like she is looking for something. I immediately recognized her as being the driver of the 2010 Toyota Corolla.
“Looking for something,” I gruffly asked her. She jumps backward startled out of her intense search. “You're going to have to stop whatever it is that you are doing and leave the premises. This is a crime scene that you're trespassing on,” I firmly state.
“I'm “contaminating your crime scene”? Is it?” she answered with annoyance. “More like you're contaminating my “crime” scene!” she yelled.
Both Cass and I just scoffed at that remark. “And what pray tell does your particular “crime scene” involve?” Cass asked in a mocking tone. Yeah, she loves interrogating people.
“I'm searching for evidence of a large Animalia Vertebrata Mammalia Carnivora Canidae Canis Lupus. One was supposedly sighted sometime last night,” the female smartly answered.
“Animalia Verte...what?” Cass replied. “Uh, can you repeat that in English for me?”
“It's a wolf, Cass. She used the entire scientific name for the gray wolf,” I said answering Cass. I'm impressed by her knowledge and how she handles herself. She must get questioned frequently.
“Not bad detective...?” she complimented ending in with a question.
“Oh, Black. Detective Sargent Black. This is my partner Detective Cassidy Peterson. Miss?”
“Grimm. Hanna Beth Grimm,” she stated back holding out a hand to shake which I obliged in return. “Pleased to meet you both. I'm with the Biology Department at Wolfdale City University. I specialize in the forensic analysis of anything pertaining to flora or fauna to help with the conservation of certain species,” she rattled on.
“Okay, so which species are you helping to conserve?” questioned Cass almost mockingly.
“All things wolven,” Hanna replied back with a firm resolve. I smirked at that.
- Writer
