Dragging his frustrated fingers through his dark spikes, of hair, Detective Dorough made his way back around the perimeter, of the crime scene. It was around an hour ago, that he was called to the scene, and nearly twenty minutes, since he had arrived. His head shook, as he glanced back over the interior, of the victim’s car. There was something about this one, that just wasn’t right; and he was not the only one, on scene, that thought this may be the work of a copy cat killer, rather than the actual Defacer. But no one could be sure. It would take hours, upon hours, of sifting through any evidence, to come up with that answer…even then, it could still remain a mystery. What was so different, anyways? Howard just couldn’t put his finger on it...at least, not yet, but he was sure it would come to him.
“Alexander McLean…homicide department. Let me through.” The distinct voice of his new partner perked his ears and caused his eyes to glance up. Through the crowd of suits and uniforms, you couldn’t miss McLean…not by a long shot, even if you wanted to! Wrinkling his brows, he looked over the kid…faded jeans, black wife beater, a load of jewelry, black nail polish, and more tattoos visible, than Howard had ever seen, on anyone, other than gang members and drug dealers. No wonder the punk couldn’t get through the suits. Howard couldn’t stop the roll, of his eyes. Hadn’t this kid ever heard the concept of looking professional?
“The kid is with me.” He finally spoke, heading toward his partner. He still wasn’t too fond of that term…he felt like he should be building a case against this kid, not working with him…side by side…every day, until the case was solved…that added up to way too many hours, if you asked him!
“Kid? I resent that! How ‘bout I start callin’ ya fancy pants?” The comment was only met by a roll of Howard’s deep brown eyes, as he watched Alexander push past the police officers and suited detectives. “Sorry it took me a bit D…I was um…preoccupied.” The shit eating grin, that crossed his face, told Howard exactly what that meant. Not that he needed to know that much about this guys personal life!
“D? The name is Dorough…or Howard.” Closing his eyes, he shook his head, to calm himself. “Whatever. Look…it’s three in the morning and it doesn’t look like we are going home for at least 18 hours or so…I would appreciate it, if you didn’t start getting on my nerves, until we are at least halfway through. Now are you here to cover the scene, or not?”
“Dude! You sound like a chick on PMS…chillax, man. Stop bein’ a bugger.” Ok, this kid talks like a damn punk, too? Howard stepped aside as his partner brushed past and started scoping out the scene. “So why is everyone in a tiff?”
“A bugger? I don’t even know what that is! A tiff? We are on the scene of a brutal murder, what do you expect?”
“Whoa. First off…you have got to stop rerunnin’ everything I flap, in the form of a fuckin’ question…it’s highly vexatious. I don’t think it would look so good if I lopped my partner in the first week here. And what I meant…was…this ain’t no normal murder scene tiff. There’s something else goin’ on here that you ain’t sharin’.” The insanely tattooed arms crossed, and Howard pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Uh…” Shaking his head, he tried to comprehend the words that he had just heard. This must be they way they talk out in LA. “…we are thinking this is a copycat killer, rather than our guy.”
“Oh? And why is that?” With one brow raised, the younger man snapped on the rubber gloves that were handed to him, by another detective. Turning away, he began to look over everything that Howard had already examined.
“There’s just….there’s something different. The scene looks just as clean, as all the others. The victim’s face was…severely…disfigured.” Pausing, a little light bulb clicked in the detective’s mind. “That’s what it is…the way the victim was murdered…it’s not like the others.” At that very moment, Alexander was lifting the red stained sheet that covered the body.
“Oh….SHIT!” Howard had, pretty much, the same reaction, when he first looked at the victim. It was a gruesome murder...even more so than all the others. Wrinkling his brows, he watched as the corner was lifted, once again, by his partner’s fingers. “Sweet….Jesus! That’s…wow…you don’t catch an eye on that…too oft. What the hell…man?” He was visibly taken back, by the sight as his eyes lifted up, to the frame of the car. Howard pursed his lips, watching the less experienced man take in the scene more closely.
“It’s bad. Her purse and license were found a few feet away…right over there.” Lifting his hand, he directed Alexander’s sights, to where the purse still laid, with a small numbered, orange marker beside it. “But…they will still have to officially identify her by dental records…supposing her teeth are still well enough intact.”
“Something’s not legit. I sense it, now, too.” The corner of the sheet flopped to the ground, with a disturbing wet sound. The more they stood there, the mingling smells of the young woman’s blood and perfume, turned their stomachs. And after another moment, neither man could stand to be in that spot, and moved on to continue observing the surrounding area.
“The Defacer mars his victim’s faces…but it has never been to this extreme. Thus the possibility…of a copycat.”
“Let’s appraise this, here. The car doesn’t break news. So it’s just the offing, that’s throwing it all for a spiral.” McLean’s face was serious, as Howard’s brow rose.
“Uh…yeah?” McLean chuckled, turning back around, to face him. Their eyes met, but their brains were on completely different wave lengths. This was something that was quickly getting on Dorough’s nerves.
“We need to knuckle down, on our communication skills, man. For real.”
“It would help, if you spoke…oh I don’t know…English!” Howard’s brows knitted together in both agitation, and frustration. All he wanted was to crack this case…to get this sicko behind clad iron bars; and working with this guy, was going to make it damn near impossible.
“I ain’t flappin’ German, dude!”
“You might as well be!” Howard shot back, with a glare. “If we are going to have any hope of solving this case…we need to be on the same page. That means…speak so I can understand you!” Both men sighed, their brown eyes still locked. “You didn’t talk all…crazy before….at least, not as much.”
“Ha. It’s an old habit. My partner in LA…Q…was this big black dude. We kinda had our own language.” The tattooed shoulders shrugged upward then shook slightly with laughter. “It made things a little less…typical and added variety to the daily grind. Ya know?”
“Ah. Well…I’m only fluent in English and Spanish. But…back to the case here.”
“Right. Personally…I think it’s our Defacer. He just didn’t have the self control that he usually does. I’m going to guess a fluke…a struggle within himself, or whatever. I doubt a copycat could pull off a clean scene, like he does.”
“That’s exactly the part that I’m having trouble understanding. A copycat really only makes sense on one level. But the Defacer is a complex enough character, that it may even just be a ploy to try throwing us off.” Howard’s little notebook was open and firmly gripped within his hand, as he scribbled noted regarding the discussion.
“This dude is natty…uh…smart enough…to possibly be trying something like that. Usually, though, don’t they do that…only when they think the detectives are getting close to their trail? Why would he be yankin’ this stuff now, when we aren’t even close?” Both faces had a hand brush over them, as the men tried to hash out the potential explanations. A case like this could…and likely would…drive a man to the brink of insanity.
It was over two hours later before the men sat down in the office, over steaming cups of caffeine based drinks. Papers, files, and pictures scattered the large table, before them. It was the usual picture you would find, after the latest murder. The conference room was large and nicely decorated; but the chairs were hard and uncomfortable, which made the hours seem to drag even slower. Settling in, the men began to pour over the newest information, hoping to find something…anything.
“Yo, D, check this out!”
Author's Chapter Notes:
I would like to thank those who are giving this story a chance, I appreciate it! Special thanks to Resa for keeping me motivated, on this story. :-)
