2: Bodies, Minus One

Character is much easier kept than recovered.

Thomas Paine

The Commissioner leaned back in his seat, brushing the raindrops from his pea coat as Nathan pulled into traffic. “I assume you have a few questions before we arrive?”

Em silently nodded towards Nathan.

Mike pressed a button which raised a pane of glass between them and the driver.

Em’s eyes scanned the back of the limo.

Mike laughed. “Don’t worry. The department searches for electronic devices periodically, but I rarely discuss police business here. Anyone would be a fool to bug the Police Commissioner’s vehicle.”

Em eased back, her shoulders relaxing. “Well, nowadays, when every Tom, Dick and Harry feels entitled to everyone else’s private information, that’s the best we can hope for. So tell me about the affair.”

Mike sighed. “It’s a ... complex situation. We travel in similar circles: fundraisers, political, civil and cultural events. While Councilman Adams and I never said more than twenty words over the years, I discovered I share a lot in common with his wife, Martha. We have the same sense of humor, appreciate the same novels and think along similar lines, both politically and morally. Her husband was always so busy, and never spent much time with her, especially at those events. Socializing with his political cronies bored her—.”

“That’s wonderful, but I wasn’t looking for why you were attracted to her. I’m looking into the nature of your relationship. What I need is who was aware you were involved? Did you have a common meeting place where someone may have observed you? Does anyone else know about the two of you? Could your wife or the deceased have discovered something to clue them in on what was occurring?”

The Commissioner stroked his chin. “We began by flirting by text. Once we realized we had something, we drew definite rules about the affair. Neither of us wanted to damage our marriages. Believe it or not, we both love our spouses. They weren’t there and we ... fell into a convenient relationship. We didn’t meet in public. We didn’t use our work phones, so nothing can be tied back to us. I can’t think of anyone who knew about it, though clearly Nathan did. He’d drop me off a couple blocks away, so someone may have observed me entering. It’s possible someone noticed me, didn’t respond, but talked about it to the wrong person.”

“But if the councilman discovered her private phone, he’d press her for details.”

“Possibly, but if he did, he wouldn’t be the one dead, would he?”

Em answered that with a silent look before continuing. “Who found the body? His wife?”

Here Mike grew silent, staring out the window. “No. I didn’t want to cast her in a bad light, but you need to know. Their maid discovered his body. No one’s heard from Martha since the murder.”

“So it’s possible he forced her to admit what was happening, they fought and she defended herself.”

He sighed, tapping his fingers on the seat. “That occurred to me, but I can’t believe she’d do anything violent. In any case, she’d have contacted me. She’d know I could set things up so she could quietly turn herself in.”

“Unless she didn’t intend to surrender?”

He shook his head. “No. Martha loved her husband, as I do my wife. Even if she couldn’t live with him, she wouldn’t dream of hurting him. After all, they’ve got their kids and relatives to consider.”

“But if it wasn’t planned, she may have panicked, expecting you’d press her to confess.”

“No. That’s the thinking of someone who’s desperate; someone who’s considered what to do and has few options available. Not only does she have my counsel, she’s got enough money to hire the best lawyers. Even in the worst case, it would be years before a final legal decision. Her legal team could arrange any number of obstructions. Running makes her look guilty. When she’s caught, she’d sit in jail versus being free. It isn’t logical she’d run.”

“So how do you account for her disappearance?”

“Personally, I’m worried. I’m afraid she’s either been kidnapped, or we’ll discover her in a few days floating in the East River.”

“You realize I’ll have to put an all-points bulletin out for her, don’t you?”

“Yes. I anticipated that.”

“Yet you didn’t tell me upfront, as if giving her extra time to make herself scarce instead of searching for someone in trouble.”

Mike stared at her, not saying anything for several moments as he frowned. “No. I’m assuming if anything happened to her, she’s either already dead, or there’s a minuscule chance a kidnapper will contact me personally.” His eye glistened with a newly-formed tear. “I doubt she’ll be found if she wasn’t there when the body was discovered.”

Em placed a comforting hand on his arm. They were interrupted by a buzz from the front of the limo.

The commissioner turned, noting where they were. He cleared his throat and wiped his eyes. “We’re here. With the weather, there isn’t much traffic. We’ll have to finish the grilling later. I’ve included all Martha’s contact information, phone numbers, description and most recent photo. That’s enough to put out an alert. But, please, for the sake of her name, can we list her as a potential victim rather than the lead suspect?”

“I can, but frankly, it’s better for you if she was. Otherwise, you’re my prime candidate.”

“I can live with that,” he said, unlocking and opening the door. “I’ll remain here and wait for your friend Paul. I don’t want to compromise your crime scene, especially since my DNA is all over their home. Contact me if you need anything else. Otherwise, I’ll leave time available to meet tomorrow at ten and three when we can discuss anything you need to know.”

“Thanks. I’m hoping this will be an open and shut case. So far, it sounds like it’s anything but.”

Em exited the limousine, shaking her head at how much larger it was than her Camry. She headed towards the stately brownstone in the middle of the block. The only sign anything was amiss was a single New York CSI van parked in front. However, there wasn’t any police tape or a patrolman to be seen.

“Hey, Em!” She turned to see her partner, Doug Wei, jogging to catch up with her. “What the hell is going on?” he whispered, as if afraid a superior might step out of the shrubbery surrounding them. Doug was a wiry guy, thin and relatively short. Em initially wondered how he’d ever made it as a beat cop, but he proved to have a sharp mind and was excellent with details, which made him an ideal detective—especially since so many people underestimated him, revealing more than they would otherwise.

“Lieutenant Anderson told me all my other duties are being assumed by someone else and this one investigation is my sole responsibility.” Em opened her mouth, but Doug jumped in before she could explain. “He also said I no longer report to him. What the heck is up? Who did you piss off, and what kind of hard-ass are we reporting to now?”

Em held her hands up. “Whoa. Slow down a minute. The hard-ass in charge of this case is me. And the person we both ultimately respond to is him,” she said, pointing to the limousine. Doug turned and stared. It took a moment, but when he figured out the symbol on the side of the door, his jaw dropped. “Holly shit! You’re working directly under Commissioner Eddleson?”

Em grinned, enjoying this little game. “Technically, no. As of now, I report to no one. We both have complete autonomy. Though once it comes to light, all bets are off. This is a high-profile case, and one Eddleson wants handled delicately—for more reasons than just the obvious. But—”

Their conversation was interrupted by a loud horn. Actually, more of a high-pitched beep. They turned to see Em’s little powder blue Camry pull to a stop in front of them. Detective Paul Simmons jumped out and stormed forward, his anger too palpable for immediate words. He waved his hands wildly, signifying nothing but his mounting frustration. “Who ... what ... where do you get off turning me into your little errand boy?”

He was so pissed, he didn’t notice the car door shutting behind him. Closing in on Em, towering over her by a good three inches, he sputtered in her face, waving his hands on either side of her body. “You’ve got some nerve! I’m not going to let you forget this. You’ll live to regret ever—”

“I don’t know about the where or the what, but the who would be me,” Commissioner Eddleson said from behind him.

Paul jumped, so surprised he collided with Em, who leapt back to avoid being bowled over. Growling, he spun around, his face transforming from a fierce scowl to ashen white as recognition spread across his face. “Sir ... Sir.”

Smiling, Em stepped into the breach. “Paul, I believe you’re familiar with Commissioner Eddleson. Mike, this is the man I thought you’d want to talk to, a trusted companion from my department, Paul Simmons.” Despite her pleasant tone, her voice conveyed the pleasure she got twisting the knife in his self-inflicted wound.

Gathering his wits from where they’d spilled—before he could trip over them—Paul danced a quick recovery. “Sir, it’s an honor. I’m a big fan. You’ve done more for the police in—”

“Please, don’t embarrass me with too many platitudes. The mayor and his cronies do too much of that as it is. That’s why I like dealing with cops. They tell it like it is, like real men. Em asked you to ferry her car so we could talk while I drive you back to your office. I’ve been eyeing you for a while. I’d like to hear about your current cases, just to get a feel for how you think.”

“Of course, sir. I’d be hon ... yes, si ... gladly, sir.”

With that, Mike guided him towards the waiting limousine. Doug turned to Em, his mouth moving like a guppy, looking for an explanation.

Em shrugged. “It’s a long story. I’ll get to it in a minute. But first...” She proceeded to outline what they were facing. As they ascended the front stairs, both detectives reviewed the building, looking for any subtle external clues, but nothing stood out.

“No police tape, no seal on the door, no one in uniform and the only two police vehicles are parked away from the actual crime scene. But the solid oak door is freshly polished and the steps and door fixtures are immaculate.” Doug shook his head. “Just one of the privileges of wealth and prestige, yet it didn’t keep crime from walking in the front door and murdering them.”

Em entered, guiding her partner through the door. They encountered an older gentleman, bent over the crime scene marked by a large dried bloodstain and several fresh nicks at the base of the ornate but narrow wooden staircase. The man glanced up and smiled, standing as he sealed the sample he’d collected.

“Ah, the mysterious Detective Em. I’m Sergeant Detective Walter Thomas, the man in charge of this ragtag but excellent group. We’re still collecting data, but we’re ready to give you an initial overview.” He turned and called out, “Detective on the premises!” before turning back. “We were specifically told not to run any tests until you authorized them, so we’ve spent our time examining and labeling everything. Since I’ve never heard of you, I assume this is a special case, beyond who the victim was.”

Walter was an older gentleman, clearly familiar with the gritty aspects of murder, but still removed from the dirty underside of humanity most cops faced on a daily basis. He had short white hair and, like the other two detectives, wore civilian attire. His eyes bore wrinkle lines from squinting too much, though he had large wire-rim glasses perched on his nose. As he finished speaking, a nervous young woman descended the stairs, stepping carefully to avoid contaminating the scene.

The two detectives approached and Walter handed them protective booties and gloves, which they donned like the others already had. “I’m glad I have you all together so I only have to explain this once. I assume you trust your team?”

Walter arched his brow, looking them up and down. “More than either of you at the moment. I realize the commissioner wanted you in charge, and I’m sure he had his reasons, but these people have proved their loyalty time and again.”

“Don’t worry.” Doug indicated his partner as they approached the stairs. “Em will prove just as loyal, and for the same reasons. She may be a little gruff, but she puts in the time and is dedicated to her job.”

Walter waved at the woman standing above him. “This is Juliana Ashcroft. She specializes in blood splatter, which she’s been wading through.” He gestured to indicate the bloody scenario before them. “She was examining the initial attack scene, where the bloodstains tell more than this ... blood pool does.” He turned to highlight another gentleman approaching from the hallway. “Bob Wellis is a jack of all trades, but his forte is computer forensics. Since we didn’t find any computers, he was collecting the fingerprints of the maid, who discovered the scene and worked here. I manage everyone and cut through red tape.”

Em introduced themselves; reaching over Walter to shake Juliana’s hand. “Commissioner Eddleson had his reasons for selecting me. You need to understand upfront, his prints, hair and semen stains are in many of the rooms. Mike’s been having an affair with the lady of the house, a minor detail no one bothered to inform Adrian about.”

Walter removed his glasses, taking a moment to absently clean them. “Yeah, I can see why he’d prefer keeping a lid on that.”

“Don’t misinterpret this. This is an independent investigation. I’m free to take it wherever it leads, including arresting him if necessary. But he didn’t want the information to leak out prematurely and become a political witch hunt which damages his career and blackens the reputation of the entire NYPD.”