Magnolia

"Makes you think don't it Sarge."

"Yeah it does. I makes me think about who he might owe. Who do we know that Richard owed money? Who do you like now? Domino maybe?"

"Why would I like that slime bag? He's creepy, and I'd damn sure never let him borrow my lawn tools."

"No, who do you think did this murder? Do you think Domino killed Richard?"

"I don't know. Why would he do that? Weren't they in business together?"

"For the money. For the girl. Maybe Domino was jealous of Richard. Maybe Domino actually thought Tiffany, I mean Miranda, really was in love with him and wanted Richard and his greasy pussy grabbing fingers off of his girl."

"Um, we aren't supposed to be jumping to conclusions here, right Sarge?"

"I'm just postulating here Bill. These two cases are getting away from us in a hurry. Sometimes all you can do is put out a theory and go with it."

I tried to explain it to Bill... Sometimes that's how we did things in homicide. When the clues dry up, or present you with too many unanswered questions, sometimes you just have to come up with a plausible theory and go investigate that.

This making up plausible scenarios was little investigative tool we used whenever we were short on both clues and time. How to use this method isn't in any police manual, but it was probably the most important thing I could teach a new guy like Bill. I needed a good example to really show how it worked, and this case was opening up in front of me like a textbook. So I put a theory out there for Bill to consider.

"Bill, it looks to me like there's a good chance that we've been played by Domino. That story about moving toilets and taking shifts for Richard seemed a little farfetched from the get go. Maybe those two met at the strip club and Domino decided to rob the poor guy. Maybe he lured the guy out here so he could pop him in the bad part of town to throw us off. Then he used whatever money he grabbed off of Richard and added the credit card to his wad to get in good with the stripper."

"What about Mrs. Gash Sarge? How does she fit into your postulation?"

"My what?"

"Your postulation Sarge, you said you were postulating."

"Oh, yeah... Well, my money is on Domino for that one too. Think about it. He probably went to the house looking for Richard. Maybe he doesn't find Richard there because the wife is the only one home. Maybe she confronts Domino, then she retreats to the bathroom where he blasts her. Sure it's a dumb thing to do, but I've seen dumber."

"Okay, that works for me, but if Domino was at the house, how did he know to come here to find Richard?"

"I'm thinking Domino calls Richard and uses some ruse to get him to meet Domino here. There's a housing project a few blocks over. Maybe he says he has some hot tip on a bunch of old shitters or something. When Richard gets here, Domino walks up to the driver's window and bam, Richard is dead. Then Domino grabs whatever cash is in Richard's wallet and the credit card, and heads to the Boogie Bare to see the girl."

"Wow, that's some theory Sarge. Isn't that a lot to prove? At the academy, they taught that most killings are simple crimes of passion. Shouldn't we be trying to keep this simple?"

"That's the beauty of working this sort of angle kid. We don't have to be right. We just make an educated guess and throw it all out there. In this particular case all we have to do is show Domino we have him dead to rights on the Richard murder, and I'll bet you a box of doughnuts that he will try to cop a plea for doing the one over on Magnolia."

We got in the crown vic and headed toward the precinct. On the way I explained more to Bill about how postulating and gathering evidence was more like science than art. In the lab, the scientist puts out a theory, then performs tests to find the proof that his theory is correct. I told bill that good police work can follow that same path. In fact, science has done more for our craft than any other single thing.

By the time we got back to the precinct, I notice that Bill was poking away at his phone like a mad man again. I doubted that he had heard a word I said about crime theory. I've always hated those smart phone things, but hell, the kid had shown me up with that damn thing every step of the way. I wondered what he could possibly be doing with that glorified squawk box to help our case now.

"What sort of sleuthing you got going on that thing now, Bill?"

"Tetris."

"I knew it. That smart gizmo is just a toy, isn't it Bill."

"I was kidding Sarge. No one plays that old school game anymore. I was taking notes on your theory about Domino being good for both of these murders, and tying in the evidence we have, just like you were saying."

Well I'll be damned. Something I said actually soaked into that thick skull of Bill's. The kid was actually listening to me.

"So what's next, Sarge?"

"It looks like it's time to go give Domino his Miranda."

"What? We are going to go pick up that stripper for Domino?" Bill sounded exceptionally incredulous.

"No Bill." I just couldn't believe how dense this guy was. "We are going to arrest Domino, and read him his Miranda Rights. You always have to read them their rights. If you don't, the judge has no choice but to toss the case and the perp walks."

This time I caught myself before Bill could ask another one of his stupid questions. "Oh, and Perp is short for perpetrator. Same thing as a doer."

"Already knew that Sarge. They covered it at the academy."

I was about to get up and head down to holding to book Domino when O'Malley popped his head in the room, "Hey, I got someone here you two dicks may want to talk to. I think he could have some key info on your Washburn case."

"So what's the rub on this one O'Malley? Are you saying we actually have a witness for a change?" I couldn't believe we had finally caught a break, especially one coming from the kind of neighborhood where nobody ever sees anything.

"Not exactly." O'Malley answered. "But robbery just hauled in some punk that tried to knock off the P&W convenience store, and the gun he used is registered to your North Washburn victim."

"Right, Richard, our guy in the minivan. When did they bring this punk in?"

"About ten minutes ago, and you dicks should get down there and question him as soon as you can. The kid looks under age to me, and you know the rules about interrogating a minor. Of course I'm not suggesting that you break the rules or anything, but I don't think robbery has taken the time to track down the kid's true age yet."

O'Malley was right. If Bill and I were going to get anything out of an underage witness, we had to get down there and question him before anyone logged him in as a minor. If he was under age, our only hope was that he thought he was some kind of tough guy, and never told those pricks in Robbery how old he was.

"Come on Bill," I motioned to my trainee as I headed down to holding. "Let's go see what this kid knows, and for god's sake try and remember he is a merely witness in our case. We can only ask what he knows about either of our murders. Be careful not to accuse this kid of anything."

We got down to the interrogation room and just as I suspected, those two fools from Robbery weren't anywhere in sight. They must have be playing that age old interrogation game where you let the perp cool his jets for a bit.

That was our chance. We needed to get in there and ask this kid some questions about our case. It wouldn't be long before the main event where Robbery would put the screws to him to get a confession on the P&W job. As I walked in the kid looked up at me with big sad eyes. O'Malley's assessment was dead on. This perp didn't look a day over thirteen. I had to wonder what a youngster like that was doing with a gun.

I started out light on the kid and let him know right up front we weren't there to bust him for anything. I needed his cooperation. I needed him to feel like he was helping us out. Still, the kid still wasn't saying anything. He was just sitting there like a stone. I needed something to loosened him up a bit before those assholes from robbery got back..

"Hey kid," I asked. "You thirsty or hungry? "

The kid just looked at me with a blank stare.

I handed Bill a fiver and told him to go down to the machines and get our guest a coke and some M&Ms. Bill slowly stood up. I could see that look on his face. The look that said I'm not your messenger boy, but he did what I said anyway. The truth is I wanted Bill out of there. I didn't want this young man to feel like we were ganging up on him. Bill was a big guy, and I wanted this kid to see that I controlled the muscle in this operation.

"Hey kid, while my partner Bill is fetching you the coke and candy, I was wondering if you could help me out with a case I'm working on. This doesn't have anything to do with what those dicks in Robbery hauled you in for. It's something unrelated. If you help me, I'll bet I can get those two Robbery goons to let you go."

"Okay." The kid's frightened eyes turned up from the table and toward me.

"Be honest with me kid. Where did you get the gun?"

"I found it."

"Found it huh? Where?"

"I was walkin' down Washburn and saw this gun on the ground. It was right next to this frumpy old lady lookin' minivan that smelled like a sewer. I looked inside, and the guy in it was as dead as they get. Ain't no dead guy that's got no use for no gun, so I took it."

"And what does a kid like you need a gun for anyway?"

"I needed it to scare that fat bitch at the P&W store. She accused me of shoplifting when I didn't. It was some other boys. Then she went and told my mom I did it, and I got an ass beating over it."

"So you were running a little revenge scheme there?"

"Yeah, I figured if she wanted to accuse me of stealing from her I'd really do it. I was just takin' back from that big fat hoe what was mine."

"That swollen eye come from your mom?"

"No. That big ass bitch at the P&W did this to me. I told her I was there to actually take what she accused me of takin' and she came after me with a folding chair like she was some kind of all pro wrestlin' star or something. Then that fat bitch sat on me until those two cops came. I should have left those damn bullets in that gun."

It was tough not to laugh at this kid's story. Bill came back with a Diet Pepsi and some skittles just in time to change the mood in the room. Bill's mistake was probably the only thing that kept me from laughing out loud at the kid. It was hard for me to believe, but my new partner was so dense that he couldn't even remember Coke and M&Ms long enough to get to the vending machine.

"Those don't look like M&Ms..." I let bill know how disappointed I was in his inability to follow the simplest of orders.

"Sorry Sarge," Bill said as he put the soda and candy down in front of the kid. "The machine was out of regular coke and the thing that drops the M&Ms was jammed. I hope these are okay kid."

It didn't seem to matter. The skinny boy on the other side of the table dug into the Skittles and fake Pepsi like he hadn't eaten in days. In the long run it didn't make a bit of difference. We didn't need to loosen the kid up with the candy anyway. I'd already gotten all the info I needed.

"Okay kid. Bill and I are going to keep our side of the bargain and talk to the cops that hauled you in. It may take a while to get you sprung, and these guys are probably going to want a statement from you. Just keep yourself out of trouble and tell them exactly what you told me about being hit with the chair and how there weren't any bullets in the gun."

"Yes Sir." The kid mumbled as he chewed.

We started to leave and on a whim I turned to the boy. "Hey kid. I need another honest answer here. How old are you anyway?"

"Twelve."

"Twelve huh? On second thought, when those two dicks from Robbery get here just tell them your age. Then don't say another word. Because of your age they can't ask you a god dammed thing."

With that, I went and filled out a release form for the kid, and gave it to the desk sergeant. The desk sergeant looked and asked if I wanted to wait until the arresting officers got back from their dinner break. I just shook my head in disbelief. At first it looked like those guys had put their suspect on ice to let him stew a little. That wasn't the case. Those two asshats were just being lazy. I told the desk sergeant I'd okay-ed the whole thing, and to push the papers through as fast as he could.

The kid would be probably be released in the next twenty minutes or so, and the joke would be on those two hotshots from Robbery. The kid was going to disappear right out from under their noses. This boy wasn't a criminal. He just made a stupid kid choice, and I couldn't wait to see the look on those two Robbery fuck's faces while they ran around trying to figure out how their collar had escaped.

As we headed back to our desks over in Homicide, a clerk handed me a manila envelope marked Forensics. I looked at it and then looked at my watch. It was just before three in the morning and I was beat. I was way too old to be pulling this all nighter shit, but I couldn't let my partner know how tired I was. He needed to see how hard you have to work to solve each and every case. I needed to show him how important the first twenty-four hours are in these things.

"Well, it looks like our two cases are coming together quite nicely." I said to Bill using my best bright and chipper voice as I slapped the forensics envelope with the back of my hand. "The only thing left for us to do is look at these forensics see if it supports our Domino theory."

When we got back to our desks I thumbed through the papers from forensics and looked over the summaries. It wasn't very hard to put two and two together now that I had all of the pieces of the puzzle in front of me.

After looking things over a bit I handed the stack of papers to my young partner to get his take on it all. It was only fair. After all, he was the one that used his new technology to give us most of our breaks in this case. It was only fitting that Bill have a look.

Bill looked over the reports and then he looked back at me hoping I'd enlighten him. "Any idea what all this means Sarge?"

"Okay Bill," I said as I took the papers back from him. "Let's step through this just like we would any other evidence. To start with, let's look at the autopsy of the Gash woman. Nothing special about her outside of the shotgun blast to the face. Sex wasn't the motive. Says here that she probably hadn't had sex in years."

"Well there goes Billingsley's rapist bet in the doer..."

Bill cut himself short before he implicated himself in participating in those doer pools that I had specifically instructed him to stay clear of. I decided it was best at that point to ignore that little transgression and move on.

"Well, let's see here." I told Bill, taking a bit of time to find the particular points that fit our case in the report. "First off, it looks like O'Malley's boys found the shotgun over on Magnolia. It was stashed behind the trash cans. It had Richard's grubby toilet plunging finger prints all over it."

Bill just stood there looking at me. His face was a blank, but my bet was that he was fuming inside. It looked as if all of the key evidence on this case was coming from good old fashioned police work, and his damn smart phone gadget wasn't as smart as he thought.

"Oh, and this is interesting." I pointed the next page on the report. "The lab re-set the time of death to no later than eight, not eight-thirty like coroner said. Wait, didn't the Clayton woman say she she saw Mrs. Gash taking out the trash close to nine?"

Yeah, that's what my notes say Sarge." Bill looked puzzled.

"Well, its my guess is it was actually Richard she saw, not Mrs Gash. Remember we found him in a that pink robe. That robe was probably his wife's, and Richard was a short fat little fucker too. From a distance I bet he'd look just like a middle aged woman. He probably walked like one too... at least wearing those fuzzy pink slippers like we found him in."

After that we just stood next to our desks while I read a little further into the report, and Bill poked away at his smart phone. I'm sure he thought his phone would come up with some miracle that would somehow outweigh all the old fashioned police work that went into those reports. Finally I found another tidbit on page nine before his phone could bleep something out.

"Oh, here are your panties." I nudged Bill.

"Um, I don't wear panties." He said looking up from his phone. "You said it yourself Sarge. Panties are for girls.

"Not your panties Bill. Your theory about the panties. It looks like your assessment was spot on. All those underpants were little girl sizes and brand new, except for one pair. That one pair was a little bigger, and actually contained biologicals from two sources. Says here that one of those biological sources was saliva."

"Are you sure it doesn't say semen Sarge. It looked an awful lot to me like that Richard guy was wrapping his thing in those panties and whacking it."

"Don't get ahead of me Bill. There was semen present, just not in the crotch. What was in the crotch was the saliva, along with some, what the report calls ordinary vaginal fluid. If what the DNA is telling us is correct, it looks like our sitter wasn't going commando after all."

"How could DNA know who wears panties or not?"

"Follow me on this one Bill. The saliva was Richard's, and the vaginal juice belonged to our sitter. That means she had her ass wrapped in those under things at some point in the day. My guess is that Richard found the sitter's panties in the laundry room and took them to his office. Probably thought he would just give them a sniff or two. Then something weird clicked in his head and he licked them."

"Guys do that, Sarge? They lick a girls dirty panties? That's kind of gross if you ask me."

"It takes all kinds Bill. I was working this case a few years ago where a guy liked to lick a dogs..."

"What else we got?" Bill interrupted.

It seemed Bill had gotten his fill of depravity for one day. I guess he didn't want to hear about the guy we dubbed the butt-licking killer. I had news for the rookie. You see a lot of depravity when you work this job. Homicide is no place for the squeamish.

"Okay, forget about that dog licking guy. Let's see what the bit twiddlers down in forensics got off of toilet boy's computer." I fanned the report with my thumb and guessed there were a good twenty pages still to look through. "It looks like those nerds did a bang up job the computer," I announced to Bill as I dug in and read.

Bill continued to fuck around with that damn smart phone, while I while to read through the rest of the stuff the computer lab had put together. Something told me that Bill wasn't doing wasn't police work with that thing anymore. I was about to school Bill on not playing video games while he was on the clock. Then I saw him mouth the name Miranda as he typed. Damned it all if that bugger didn't somehow talk that stripper out of her phone number.

I guess there's no accounting for who a guy's attracted to. I just shut my mouth and went back to reading. It turned out there were seventeen pages in the computer report, not twenty, and everything I saw seemed to fit our case to a tee.

The deeper I read in the report, the more sick and pathetic this poor Richard fellow looked. I'm not saying he was the worst human being I'd ever come across, but at that point I would rather deal with an entire bus load of drug addicted cross dressers from the tenderloin district than that one twisted son of a bitch. Then as I finished reading the last page, I felt that wonderful grin of satisfaction I get every time I solve a case.