Chapter 2

 

The rain lacked consistency and enthusiasm, with slight spatters falling sporadically. Just enough to send the crime scene guys fumbling to erect some cover over the bodies. Not an easy prospect in the cramped alley, and even less so with just the two of them. It must be a busy night, or a result of cuts.

They’d decline any offers of help, as that might contaminate the scene. At least avoiding contamination offered an excuse for Cassie to stay under the minimal cover offered by the doorway, alongside Harry.

‘Minetti,’ said Harry, clicking his fingers. ‘That’s it. Carl Minetti.’

‘Which one?’ asked Cassie.

‘The fatter, older one, with the dumb red trainers.’

While hard to judge their respective obesities, the footwear identified Minetti - and older was comparative, since Carl didn’t look much older than her. But given his lifestyle, he would be old within his social circle.

Both victims had bullet holes in their torsos and heads, and from the few traces of blood the rain had yet to dislodge, it looked to have happened here. The alley had a bend at one end, and a rusted door to a derelict factory at the other. No through traffic, and no overlooking windows, meant no witnesses. The alley leading to it had corners where the bodies could’ve been hidden if brought here, rather than dragged all the way in.

‘He anyone I should know?’ asked Cassie.

‘He wasn’t,’ said Harry. ‘Low-level pusher, but been around a while. Knows people. Don’t think that many of the people he knew liked him that much. And I guess at least one person really didn’t.’

‘Not necessarily. It looks like a clean hit. Both put down before they could draw their guns. Might just be business.’

Harry’s inarticulate grunt could be taken as agreement.

They’d been called because of the drugs found on the deceased, but the bodies meant it should go to Homicide - or possibly Organised Crime, if the pair were usefully connected. Vice was bottom of the pile, and only got the cases other departments didn’t want.

Not that Cassie was bitter. But she had only another couple of hours left on her shift, and until another department took over, this officially belonged to Vice. That required their presence, unless they had anything more urgent to deal with. That seemed unlikely.

When potential replacements appeared a few minutes later, it wasn’t exactly a relief.

Simons’ gaze locked on her with a degree of distaste, but he didn’t slow his approach. She didn’t recognise his sidekick. He must be new to Homicide, arriving in the two months since her lateral demotion.

‘Detective Kinsala,’ Simons greeted her in a clipped tone. He wore a predictably smart suit under the too-clean coat.

‘Detective Simons,’ she said. ‘This is Detective Jansen.’

Harry nodded a brief acknowledgement, eyes unreadable. He slouched casually, enhancing his slovenly demeanour. Harry disliked other departments on principle, so would happily support any antagonism he picked up on in her tone. ‘You’re taking the case, then?’ asked Harry. ‘Have fun with that.’ He straightened, preparing to leave.

‘We’re just having a look,’ said Simons. The smile that danced across his lips looked like a playful sneer, though her irritation might colour that impression. ‘Jurisdiction is still under discussion.’

Why? Okay, no one wanted a double homicide bringing down their stats - unless it was obviously a quick clear - but it was usually a brief horse trade to decide who’d take a case. Why waste more executive time arguing the point?

She groaned. Harry glanced at her. ‘Stats review next week,’ she said.

Harry snorted and shook his head, then glared at Simons. ‘So, this gets left hanging around our necks until after the review.’

Simons shrugged, glancing around at the crime scene with little interest. ‘Try not to mess things up too badly before we get a chance to solve it.’

Harry turned to Cassie. ‘Does he have to be such a dick about passing on the news?’

‘I don’t think he has to be a dick,’ said Cassie. ‘It’s more of a lifestyle choice.’

Simons’ gaze hardened. ‘Don’t take it too hard when you fail this time,’ he said.

She met his glare in kind.

‘Oh,’ said Harry, in an exaggerated tone. ‘Is this the guy who threw you under the bus to save himself? Now I get the being a dick stuff.’

Simons didn’t spare him a glance. ‘Try to keep your temper in check this time, Ophelia.’ He turned and left.

Harry waited until the pair were out of sight. ‘Ophelia?’

Cassie sighed. ‘Bastard looked at my personnel file.’

‘Is it Ophelia Cassandra Kinsala, or Cassandra Ophelia Kinsala?’ asked Harry, the smile evident in his tone. ‘Now I get why you don’t talk to your folks much.’

She ignored him.

Simons hadn’t really betrayed her. He just hadn’t supported her indignation when a case fell through because the murderer was rich. The perp could afford lawyers who scoured the evidence for any minor error in process. The error hadn’t even been hers, but because she’d vocalised her frustrations, she’d been nominated scapegoat, and this was her punishment.

‘I suppose we’d better investigate, then,’ she said.

Harry offered an unenthusiastic sigh. Neither made any move to do so. They had to wait for forensics to finish their work, which might take hours.

It was a bad quarter of an hour before one of the techs handed them the bagged personal effects of the victims for perusal. They confirmed Minetti’s identity, but his associate had a couple of IDs on him, so they’d have to research which was real.

The drugs on their persons wouldn’t normally have earned them a second look. It was the area’s reputation for the trade that had gotten Vice called in. And, to be fair, it seemed justified, given what Harry knew about Minetti.

Harry held up a bagged piece of paper. Cassie looked at it: a handwritten note with a company name, Mayweather Technologies, and what was presumably their address.

‘This’ll be a clue, then,’ said Harry.

‘Really?’ said Cassie. ‘You almost sound like a detective.’

‘Almost. You think he had a job interview there?’

‘Was he technologically gifted?’

‘Opening a bottle strained his technical acumen.’

‘Then I’m guessing not,’ said Cassie. ‘Only ideas that come to mind are that it’s a burglary target, or part of their operation. He do much burglary?’

Harry shrugged. ‘Not that I knew. He focussed on drugs, and stuck to what little he knew. Not the entrepreneurial type. I suppose we could go look.’

Cassie glanced at the time. ‘Gone ten. Doubt they’d be open.’

‘We’d be derelict not to investigate the possibility of a burglary. Or are you enjoying standing around here?’

He had a point. A potentially urgent lead was an excuse not to stick around doing nothing. They didn’t know it wasn’t urgent yet. If she was forced into involuntary overtime, she might as well look for something interesting to spend it doing.

She called in their change of action as they headed back to the car.