Chapter 3
Monday morning
Detective Parker studied the body of the young man slumped in the corner of the green bench sculpture. The sculpture was at the beginning edge of the outdoor garden area of the Dali Museum. The body was carefully positioned with one elbow crooked over the armrest and his other hand stretched along the back rail touching the large melting clock form that drooped over the back of the bench. An open newspaper had been placed on his chest to mimic a typical homeless bench sleeper’s need for warmth and privacy.
The forensic specialists were still processing the scene. He had watched them take the newspaper away as well as the contents of the man’s pockets. The most interesting items had been a tattered letter from John Webb, late owner of Webb’s Glass Shop, and a prescription strength inhaler.
He had sent Officer Williams to check in with Savannah Webb. He had authorized Williams to use her own judgment to determine if Savannah could be useful as a consultant on this case. He was impressed with Officer Williams. The probationary officer was a smart young woman who used her brains to full advantage. He was beginning to value her opinion. After the discovery of John Webb’s letter, Savannah’s participation was no longer optional.
“Good morning, David.” Coroner Sandra Gray appeared at Detective Parker’s elbow and looked down at the victim. “This is definitely too surrealistic not to get a big splashy article in the Tampa Bay Times. Did you know this is called the Avant-Garden?”
He stared at her with a quizzical look on his face.
“Okay, not a Dali fan then. Right.” She was dressed in her coveralls and booties and holding her medical case. She leaned over and placed her gloved fingers on the throat of the body. “I am hereby officially pronouncing the death of the victim—time unknown.” She looked at the face and moved his right arm. “It does appear that he died more than a few hours ago. Have forensics processed the area around the body?”
“They’re done with everything associated with the body. It’s all perimeter work now. Do you want to wait until they’ve completely finished?” asked Detective Parker.
“No, I can’t wait. As long as the body is processed, I’m fine to take it away.” Coroner Gray placed her medical case beside the green bench sculpture, opened it, and removed a large digital camera. She attached an external flash and adjusted the flash range to four feet. She took dozens of photographs of the scene to accurately orient the bench into its immediate area. Then she took shots of the body at every possible angle. As she looked through the viewfinder, she said, “Even these technical snaps look like a potential photography exhibit. Those huge glass protrusions on the museum are framing the body perfectly.”
Detective Parker shook his head. “I know how much you enjoy the fine arts, but that’s a bit too far.”
“Of course you’re right, but this setting is distracting.” Coroner Gray continued to circle the bench taking snapshots. “Has anything been moved or taken away?”
“Yes, the contents of his pockets, which included a prescription strength inhaler. I have a sealed evidence bag containing a letter found in his inside jacket pocket. Also, his upper body was partially covered by a damp newspaper. The docent who discovered the body said it had covered the victim’s face. He thought the victim was sleeping and poked him on the shoulder. When he didn’t respond, the docent removed the paper. The forensic specialists have it and are going to try to extract fingerprints.”
“From the newspaper?”
“Yes. It’s not easy, but it is possible to lift prints from a newspaper. They’re going to work on it back in the lab.”
“Thanks.” She removed the flash attachment from the camera and put the pieces in their designated slots in her crime scene satchel. Then she took out a large thermometer and rearranged Dennis’s clothing enough to permit a reading.
Sandra pulled out her phone and opened an app that copied her handwriting into a digital note. She recorded the temperature results. She stood and looked at Detective Parker. “So, what we have here is a healthy-looking male who looks to be in his late twenties or early thirties. I don’t see any obvious signs of violence, but I’ll know more when I get him on the autopsy table. Wait, I see a shadow.”
She pulled out a flashlight and a magnifying glass and took a close look at Dennis’s collarbone. “There’s something here. A bruise doesn’t really make sense in his current position.” She stood up. “Do you have a list of what was in his pockets?”
“Certainly.” Detective Parker flipped back a few pages of his notebook and handed it over for her to see.
She glanced at it, then took a picture of the page. “Not much.”
“Young people these days don’t carry around much. Their lives are all in their phones. Okay, except that he carried an inhaler containing a strong rescue medication. He must have had a serious respiratory condition to be carrying it around.”
A short stocky man dressed in a brown and tan security uniform trudged up from the double doors of the Dali. He stopped to stand a few feet away and waited until Detective Parker acknowledged him with a nod.
“Sir, my name is Lucas Brown, head of security here at the Dali. May I interrupt for just a moment?”
Detective Parker smiled and shook his hand. “Thanks for coming forward. I’m going to need your help.”
“Oh, yes sir!” Lucas bounced on his toes looking like he wanted to salute. “I checked the video camera footage. The biggest problem is that the camera’s focal point is on the gate, not near the bench at all. It shows some coming and going activity at about four a.m., then more activity at six a.m., and then nothing until John, he’s one of the docents, arrived at about eight a.m. The tape also shows, well, everything that’s happening now. Whoever was on camera at four a.m. was very careful to keep his face turned from the camera. The six a.m. activity looks like a person who kept very early hours and he stumbled on the scene and then left in a panic.”
“His? You think the person is a man?”
“Well . . . oh. Of course, I get your point. The figure appears to be large and muscular. It looks male in dark clothes and a ball cap.”
“Great, it’s probably going to be useless for identification purposes.” Detective Parker looked at the brass nametag pinned to the security manager’s uniform shirt. “Mr. Brown, can you send us a copy?”
“Please call me Lucas. I’m so sorry. I don’t have permission from Director Gina Wilkins. She has to approve everything associated with the museum.” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “Absolutely everything.”
“Contact her now and get permission, please.”
“I’ve already tried. I’ve tried over a dozen times.” Lucas removed his hat, smoothed his thinning auburn hair, and replaced the hat. “She isn’t answering her cell phone, nor her home phone, and of course, she’s not answering her office phone because she’s not here.” He shifted his weight to the other sturdy leg. “I’m sure she’ll be here before the museum’s normal ten o’clock opening time.”
“Is she normally so late?” Detective Parker made a note.
Lucas shifted his weight again and his eyes grew wide. “Ten is not late for an executive person in her position. She works a ridiculous number of hours. She’s here for every event and still gets here every morning except Sunday. Do we have to close the museum? I need to know.”
“Yes. I would like to keep it closed until I speak to the director. Please put a sign on all the doors that the museum is closed until further notice due to an unforeseen circumstance.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll do it right away.”
“If she wants the museum to open any time soon, she’d better find time to speak to me.”
“Yes sir. That makes it doubly important. I understand.”
Sandra tapped Detective Parker on the shoulder with her pen. “I’m scooting off now. I’m finished with my scene examination. You can order transport whenever you’re ready. I’ll start the autopsy as soon as he arrives at the morgue.” She made sure no one was watching her, then winked. “I will see you later.”
“Thanks for coming down. Yes, later.” He smiled very wide, then turned back to the security guard. “We need that footage as quickly as possible.” He paused for a moment. “Wait, did you know the victim?”
Lucas looked over to the body surrounded by the forensic specialists lifting fingerprints, adjusting their sketches, placing numbered plastic cones around the bench, and photographing everything from the gate to the bench. He glanced down at his worn but polished black shoes, then lifted his head. “Not personally. He was the featured artist at the reception last night, but I didn’t get to meet him. There’s a big poster in front of the ticket counter. His name is, I mean was, Dennis Lansing.”
“What about access to this area? How did he get in back here?” Sandra sized up the space. The green bench sculpture was somewhat hidden behind the large, imposing museum, and a bit sheltered from the café entry door by a short patio. It wasn’t visible from the street due to the height of the shrubbery and the bulk of the tall gingko wishing tree.
Lucas took out a handkerchief, lifted his hat, and passed it across his forehead and around his face in a practiced manner. “That’s always been somewhat of a problem. It’s not all that difficult if you are persistent and reasonably fit. I put in a budget request for securing the fences to be more resistant to trespassing, but it was turned down.”
“I’ll bet approval is swift now.” Detective Parker nodded to the activity surrounding the green bench. “Show me the ways to get in.”
After ten minutes and at least that many ways to enter the garden, they returned to stand in front of the body. “I think the easiest access point that would permit carrying a body through to the green bench is straight through this gate.” Detective Parker pointed to a waist high set of fiberglass panels that rolled back into the shrubbery to allow outdoor access to the garden. “But the problem with that is, you didn’t see that on the video.”
“No, I think it’s more likely that the person came through the thinner shrubbery straight in off the street,” said Lucas.
Detective Parker looked at Lucas. “So, the suspect could have been someone who is not familiar with this area.”
Lucas nodded and mopped his handkerchief around his face again. “I agree, but another option is that Dennis walked in here himself.”
Detective Parker nodded. “Okay, regardless of how he got here, I’ll get the forensics specialists to cordon off a much wider area. Keep trying for permission to release the tape.” He checked his watch. “As you say, your director should be here by ten. It will take me at least that long to get through the preliminary paperwork process.” He tilted his head down. “Don’t let anyone from the museum staff interfere with our ongoing case. I will hold you responsible.”
Color drained from Lucas’s face and he held his hands up and backed away. “I’m here to help you. Trust me, I want to help. I’ve always dreamed about helping with a murder investigation.”
“Murder?” Detective Parker used his pistol-cold voice. “I haven’t mentioned murder.”