Sunday mornings are for laying in bed late before drinking a cafe latte down at your favorite coffee shop. But not for Detective Steve Rickets. Not this Sunday. His phone rang for the third time in the last five minutes.
Steve rolled over and checked the time. 7:23am. An ungodly hour on a Sunday.
His phone rang again and he decided he best answer it.
‘Morning detective’ he said. It was Detective Sarah Branson his partner for the last eighteen months since he moved to the Collingwood Police Headquarters.
‘About time you answered’ she greeted him tersely.
‘It’s Sunday morning what could be so important?’ he asked though he already knew the answer. There was only one reason she would be calling him this early.
‘We got a homicide. You are required to come on down’ she said.
‘Okay give me fifteen minutes. Where will I meet you?’
‘Gold Street. Murder on Gold Street’
‘See you there shortly’ Steve replied and hung up the phone.
Fifteen minutes later, after showering and throwing down a coffee, Steve pulled his Ford Falcon in behind the other police vehicles at the scene. He stepped out of the car and pulled his jacket tight around his chest to keep out the icy July winds.
Gold street, Collingwood was your typical inner city urban street just a couple of kilometers to the north of Melbourne. Formally a working mans suburb it was a mix of miners cottages, old factories converted into warehouses and apartments. Mostly lower income earners lived in the area. Over time the precinct around Gold Street had seen more than its share of shady and colorful characters.
Steve spotted Branson and walked over to her.
‘What we got?’ he asked her as he glanced at the body half buried in the bushes in a small park. The body was face down in the mud. The back of the head was a bloody mangled mess and the side of the neck had gaping open wounds that looked like puncture marks.
‘Deceased male, approximately early to mid fifties. Name is James Firth partner in the financial firm Firth & Pinkton based in Carlton according to details in his wallet.’ She replied reading through her notes.
‘Any sign of a murder weapon?’
‘Not yet the uniforms are sweeping the area at the moment’
Steve glanced around at the scene. A group of locals had gathered on the perimeter wondering what was happening. ‘Any witnesses of any kind?’ he asked.
‘None that have come forward. Body was called in by a neighbor who was on the way to get his morning paper. He didn’t hear or see anything though.’
‘Okay. Do we have an approximate time of death?’ Steve was growing impatient. He really didn’t need this today. He was looking forward to having the day of but not anymore.
‘Forensics are getting details now but their early guess is around 11pm last night. Looks like it rained overnight so possible that any evidence could have washed away in the night.’
Steve walked over to the body to take a closer look. Branson followed him. In the eighteen months since they became partners she had learned more from Detective Steve Rickets than she had learned in her entire ten years before hand.
Kneeling down Steve took a closer look at the hands and arms of the body.
‘No signs of defensive wounds’ he stated.
‘So he possibly knew the attacker?’ Branson clarified.
‘Yes either that, or he was struck from behind catching him by surprise’ Steve responded. He looked at Branson and felt glad he had her on his team. He loved how enthusiastic she was about her job and how much she loved to learn from him.
‘However it went down, its a bloody mess’ Branson said looking away. No matter how many of these scenes she went to it still turned her stomach. They stood up and Steve put his arm around her shoulder to reassure her. They walked back towards the car as forensics snapped various photos of the scene.
‘So we don’t have a lot to go on detective’ Steve said to her as he leaned against the car.
‘Not a lot. Middle aged guy, partner in a financial firm in Carlton, found stabbed to death multiple times in an area like Gold Street.’ Branson read back the evidence. ‘Question is, what was he doing here in a shit hole like Gold Street?’
‘Answer that and we will solve this murder’ Steve suggested to her. He looked around Gold Street. His great grandfather used to live here back in the days when there was a pub on every corner. From his single fronted terrace house he could look across to Victoria Park, the famous home to the Collingwood Football Club. Of course they had moved on long ago and now Gold Street was a grimy inner city street decorated in graffiti and litter. It attracted a range of low income earners, drug dealers and under world figures. A perfect setting for a hard working detective.
‘So what do we do when we have absolutely nothing to work on in a case like this detective?’ he asked her. He had told her a hundred times or more and he hoped her response indicated she had listened.
‘Start with the family!’ she replied.
‘Correct. Let’s get going’ Steve said and opened the passenger door of his car for her. She stepped in and took her seat in the passenger side.
A young constable ran up to Steve and handed him a piece of note paper.
‘The address that Detective Branson asked for’ she said to Steve with a grin on her face for having done a good job. She was young and cute with her blond hair up in a bun. Steve momentarily thought about going there but thought better of it.
‘Thanks constable’ he said and hopped into the drivers side. He handed the note to Branson who plugged the address into the GPS. The GPS showed a travel time of thirteen minutes to Carlton.
Steve gunned the engine and pulled away from the curb.