Thread Number 100: Hidey People In Fast Forward.

POSTED BY: mai
UPDATED: Wednesday, June 25, 2008 05:59
VIEWED: 12216
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JADEHAND

Friday, June 20, 2008 6:36 PM

[I've] been awake way too long. Not thinking clearly.
This is dedicated to Firefly, Wonderfalls, Drive, The Inside, Strange Luck, Touching Evil, Miracles, etc.

Mark Rivera still cooks on the sax.

A man who walks the Earth.

MSB

Friday, June 20, 2008 7:02 PM

ooh finish the story Dave... yes tell us a bed time story

*draws for the inside straight so she won't end up old maid*

____________________________________________

Love doesn't make the world go 'round; love is what makes the ride worthwhile.

DAVESHAYNE

Friday, June 20, 2008 10:09 PM

Quote:
Originally posted by mai:
please? pretty please with a cherry on top?

Oh all right. But only because I like cherries.

Slow In the Usual Spots: Part Two

I didn't learn much at the crash site. Partly because the actual crime scene was 1000 yards up in the air and partly because my only witness was in no shape to talk having witnessed her partners death and narrowly avoiding her own death only because of the dying act of that same partner. The slug was fired from below and was something big and fierce like a fifty calibre machinegun or maybe one of those Russian fourteen point five millimeter anti tank rifle bullets. A weapon like that is used by someone who really wants to cause damage.

I was staring at an expensive and tastefull suit. Inside the suit was George Derby the news manager of channel Twelve. He didn't know of anybody who wanted to kill Skye. Or Transom either for that matter. "Was there anybody with a grudge against the station?" "Besides channels three, six, and ten?" He instructed his administrative assistant to provide me the file with all the death threats received by the station in the last year. Apparently the file was not small.

It was unhelpful as well. Though I was surprised to learn how many people were murderously annoyed by the Action Twelve News jingle. It was time to talk to the exes though I had the feeling it would be a waste of time. Turned out I was right. I met three very angry women with two things in common they all hated their now dead ex and they all depended on the alimony checks they now wouldn't be getting from "Captain Inadequate"

The uniforms had been canvassing within the two mile radius of the crash site looking for the murder weapon. Or somebody who saw the shooting. Or really just anybody who would give them the time of day without a lawyer being present. Police are not well liked in the valley. The ME dug a half inch hunk of metal out of my corpse and sent it off to the labs. With luck we could eventually match the slug to a weapon and a weapon to a shooter. With luck I could win the power ball.

Lieutenant Cromarty was not pleased with my briefing. I can't say I blamed him my briefing was not pleasing. No suspect, no motive, and only the slimmest of physical evidence that may never be linked to the perpetrator. Plus the news gathering professionals of our fair city were demanding both constant updates and visible progress in the investigation which was showing signs of having neither.

I drove back to my cozy two thousand dollar a month closet and went straight to the fridge for a beer. Only when half of it was gone did I check for messages. It would seem that Ellie Transom had a romantic notion regarding the hours police detectives work and the places they do that work as she expected me to meet her in a bar downtown in about an hour. Automatic callback gave me a this phone does not accept incoming calls message and I drained my beer as I prepared to enact a potboiler mystery cliche and meet the femme fatale in a seedy smoke filled jazz club.

It was much more of a cliche than I cared for particularly. As I drove up the police were just taping off the crime scene where the beautiful and brilliant traffic reporter lay dead in an excessively large pool of blood.

End part two.

David

'Geeks can't admit that anything worthwhile was invented before 1981. Soon, "making cocoa" will be called "milk hacking."' - Lore Sjoberg

http://xkcd.com/386/

I has myspace - http://www.myspace.com/daveshayneforpresident

MSB

Monday, June 23, 2008 9:27 PM

and then????

____________________________________________

Love doesn't make the world go 'round; love is what makes the ride worthwhile.

MAI

Monday, June 23, 2008 10:36 PM

I know what happened next! There were monkeys!
Terrifyin' Space Monkeys got loose, didn't they?

DAVESHAYNE

Tuesday, June 24, 2008 1:01 AM

Ok, ok. Here's part three.

It looked a lot like any celebrity crime scene. The uniforms pushing back the hordes of onlookers, the paparazzi wasting disk space on shot after shot of glamor gone bad, the corpse laying in an all to awkward position with the rust red blood slowly drying on the concrete in front of the nightclub. The only thing missing was Danny Bonaduce getting a blow job from a transvestite hooker and Mel Gibson screaming racial slurs.

It didn't seem to make much sense to me. Who would want to kill a traffic reporter? Why would the vultures with the flash cameras care about a local celebrity when Brittany was almost due to either enter or leave rehab again? The crime scene guys stalked about in their plastic booties with ziploc bags filled with state's exhibits A through Z while a young woman stood off to the side sobbing. I wondered why she looked familiar until we we're introduced, "Anica DuChase, the deceased's roommate." Also coworker - she was Derby's administrative assistant. If the name seems familiar think DuChase chemicals. She's a great granddaughter but daddy got himself and his children disinherited during an environmental protest outside one of the corporation's smellier plants.

She didn't know why Ellie had called me earlier. Hadn't known Ellie had called me at all. They were out for a drink to maybe calm down and console each other after this morning's gruesome and unnerving events when a car sped by leaving a puff of exhaust, several bullets, and a dead roommate in it's wake. She couldn't recall anybody who might have wanted her friend dead but somebody apparently did.

I talked to the bouncer at the club and he got me the surveillance tapes from the door. After he copied them to sell to the highest bidder. He wasn't looking at the street so he didn't see anything until after the gunshots, scream, and thud. They didn't get drive bys in this neighborhood which was down enough to attract slummers from the TV news without being down enough to attract gang bangers. Ellie and Anica were regulars coming two, three nights a week. They always got in even on the Fridays when a trio that didn't suck was playing because the door guys liked them and management was all about getting cute young women in the club. It was better for business.

I got the number for Amanda, Ellie's mother, and made the call. The department really aught to hire somebody to do that for me because I'm not very good at consoling grieving family. I'm afraid the mother will never really like me after the abrupt way I broke the news. She didn't know who could have killed her daughter or the helicopter pilot. She hadn't talked to her daughter in a week. She didn't talk to her ex-husband at all so she didn't have a number and couldn't leave a message. She couldn't help me with my investigation. Or wouldn't. There seemed to be something she knew that she wasn't telling me but since she lived in the heartland a thousand klicks from the valley I couldn't bring her in for a perp sweat even if my superiors would authorize me bringing the mourning mother of a murder victim in for a perp sweat on a hunch.

I went home to get some sleep for real this time. I was drifting in that weird half asleep state when I suddenly sat bolt upright. How did Amanda know about Skye's death?

Continued in part four.

David

'Geeks can't admit that anything worthwhile was invented before 1981. Soon, "making cocoa" will be called "milk hacking."' - Lore Sjoberg

http://xkcd.com/386/

I has myspace - http://www.myspace.com/daveshayneforpresident