Price No Object Ch. 01

"Yes sir." said Julia, realizing that my intent was to get Carole out of the room.

"Y'all might want to check out the study room down the hall." said Theo Washington. "It looks strange, too." Julia and Carole left the room.

I quietly said to Martha "I suspect something more happened to Mrs. Matheson, here, and I'd prefer that seven-year-old Detectives not learn about these aspects of crime quite so quickly. Check and see if she was sexually assaulted."

"Sir?" asked a very surprised Roark Coleman. "You think her husband raped her before he killed her?"

"Why do you assume that he killed her?" I replied.

"Sir, it has all the earmarks of a murder-suicide." said Coleman.

"Teachable moment... several of them, in fact." I said, then started in as everyone paused to listen: "I am not assuming anything like that, at least not yet. The only data we have right now is that Mr. Matheson very likely committed suicide with that Glock. It's likely that she was murdered, but we have no data to confirm that he killed her. We have to have the data before we form further theories, Mr. Roark. Never theorize without data." Coleman nodded, his face looking more confused that it had a moment before.

"Sir," asked Theo, "what data suggested to you to have Martha look for signs of sexual assault?"

"Good question." I said, a bit pointedly and acerbically in Roark's general direction. "Let's observe what we have here, instead of just seeing it. I am observing here that she is not wearing any pants, but she is wearing a sweatshirt. I noticed when I first came inside the house that it is pretty cold, so I'm speculating with that data that it's likely her pants were removed rather than her not having been wearing any today." Everyone nodded...

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

While that was going on, I did my own quick tour of the house, and Theo wisely took the opportunity to go with me. I went into the master bedroom first.

"Nothing really out of place, sir." Theo said. "The bed is made, and appears undisturbed, so if Mrs. Matheson was raped, it likely was not on the bed. And to your point about how she was dressed, there's no pants or sweatpants or anything lying around, nor in the dirty clothes hamper."

"I'll buy that for a dollar." I said. The room was painted a light beige color and simply but tastefully furnished. Only the bedside lamps on either side of the bed gave further illumination that the window, but I could see that there were pot lights and a fluorescent light in the ceiling. I flicked a switch next to the bedroom door, and those lights came on.

"Wow, very bright in here with those lights." I said. "You see any cameras anywhere?"

Theo grinned. "You think they were making adult movies in here, sir?"

"I'm remembering Carl and Wanda's home setup when we were investigating his death." I said. (Author's note: 'The Babymaker', Ch. 01.) "They had a setup in their third bedroom for making fitness videos as well as of themselves having sex. This reminds me of that."

Theo went to investigate the rest of the house as I looked at the second bedroom, which was simply furnished to act as a guest bedroom, and was in pristine condition, including the bed being made. In fact, it looked and smelled a bit stale, as if the room had not been used or even cleaned in a while.

A moment later Theo called me on the cellphone and asked me to come up to the apartment that was situated over the garage, and I made my way to it.

The entrance was at back left, as one looked from the front of the house. It was basically one room, with a kitchenette counter along the back wall, a toilet and shower in the corner past that, a shallow closet with fold-out doors, that served as both a pantry and a clothes closet, and the rest of the space occupied by a sofa-bed, a television, and a desk with a monitor and computer dock in the corner. It was sparse, but functional.

"It looks lived-in, sir. There's fresh milk and Coca-Cola Zero in the refrigerator, and some pot pies in the freezer." said Theo. "But there are absolutely no papers of any kind anywhere. No bills, no printer or anything printed, nothing."

"Hmmm." I said as I looked inside the closet and then rummaged around. "A suit in the closet, as well, and the size of the jacket is 44L, which would properly fit a man taller and more broad-shouldered than Mr. Matheson. It does not appear that the door was forced open, but have the techs check it out. And have them get fingerprints, too, especially around that desk and computer dock. In the meantime, I'm going to go make sure the dead husband wasn't kicked out of the house and banished up to here by his wife, by seeing if most of his clothes are in their bedroom in the main house..."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Meanwhile...

Julia Rodriguez came into a small room with a desk against the back wall and a computer desk against the left wall, close enough to each other for one chair to move between them easily, and a piece of hard plastic on the floor to facilitate such movement. There was a computer monitor and keyboard on the computer desk, but no computer was visible anywhere. A CSI was dusting for fingerprints.

The desk was totally clean. There were no papers on it at all. To the right of the desk was a metal mesh trash can; it was also empty, and was lying on its side, suggesting it had been emptied and carelessly dropped.

To the right of the desk was a very large, curved television monitor and sound system. On the near wall, to the immediate right of the door, was a large sofa upholstered in soft leather, with big, comfortable cushions. In front of the sofa was a table whose color matched the sofa, and Julia recognized it as a table whose top could be pulled up to eat off of.

"Movie room." Julia said. "Man cave, maybe."

"No ma'am, they both watched movies here." Carole said, pointing to the two light blankets on the sofa. One of them was plain green, and the other with a pattern of flowers. "My mom and dad have 'sep-rette' blankets like that for when they watch TV."

"Good point, Carole." Julia said, impressed with the observation.

"Looks like someone cleaned out the desk." said one of the techs. "There's not a scrap of paper anywhere. The computer is gone, too; you can see the dock for one there."

"So they took it." said Julia.

Carole said "Maybe not, De-tec-tive Julia. It may be in Mr. Math-uh-son's car."

"Uh, that's a thought." Julia said. "Mike, go out and see if that's the case. Take someone to record you in case you find it." Mike exited the room, movijng out smartly to complete the CSI mission.

Meanwhile, Carole had gone to the sofa and sat down on it, then got up and went to the side of the desk, where the trash can was, and peered into the small space between the back of the desk and the wall. "De-tec-tive Julia, do you have a flash-light?" she asked.

"My iPhone has a light." said Julia. "Did you find something?"

"I think so." Carole said.

"I'll turn on the video recorder on my iPhone, which will turn on the light." Julia said. She did so, then said "This is Detective Sergeant Julia Rodriguez of the TCPD, Badge No. 2-0-3-0. With me is Honorary Auxiliary Detective Carole Troy, Badge Numberrrrr?"

"Number 1-6-4-2." Carole said to the cellphone as Julia recorded Carole's badge on its necklace on her chest. Julia then shone the light behind the desk and Carole said "There's a wadded up piece of paper there."

"Let's get someone to move the desk." Julia said, standing up and about to get some help.

"I can get it!" Carole said. She was about to reach in when Julia stopped her.

"Hold on, you need a glove." Julia said. She handed Carole a latex glove. "You'll have to wear this adult size glove."

"That'll work!" Carole said, putting the large glove on her seven-year-old hand. As Julia recorded, Carole lay down and reached her little arm behind the desk. A moment later she pulled out a wadded piece of paper.

"Got something, Fussbudget?" I asked, having just walked in.

"Yes, Daddy!" Carole said. "There was a piece of paper behind the desk."

"Let's have a look." I said as Carole handed it to me, still wearing latex gloves on my paws. I sat down on the sofa and carefully unwadded the paper as Julia recorded and Carole watched with great interest.

"Hmmm." I said. "it looks like the sheet of paper was torn into multiple pieces, and this is the middle portion. It reads '...Price is no object. You will earn a salary of $300,000 a year, with a signing bonus of $100,000 and an advance on your first year salary of $100,000 if you choose. Additionally, you will hold any patents produced, which we will license...'."

"Sounds like a job offer." Julia said.

"Yes, it does." I said. "And a heckuva offer, at that. Did you find any other pieces of torn up paper?"

"No sir, the desk was cleaned out." Detective Sergeant Rodriguez said.

"And I suspect we now know why." I said, holding up the scrap of paper. "I get the feeling that this is an extremely important clue to the case."

"Carole found it, sir." said Julia, giving credit where due.

"Good work, Fussbudget." I said.

"Daddy, why do you still call me 'Fussbudget'?" Carole asked. "I'm seven now! And I'm a De-tec-tive on your Po-leece Force!"

"And what would you like me to call you?" I asked amusedly.

"The next Iron Crow-bar." Carole said simply.

"And she already has delusions of grandeur." I said to Julia with a grin, making Julia laugh. I then turned to Carole and said "Carole, 'Fussbudget' has been my nickname for you since the day you were born, and I will be calling you that until the day I die. Even after you earn this crowbar... if you earn it. By the way, what made you think to look behind the desk?"

Carole replied "I was sit-ting on the sofa, and I saw that trash can. I thought maybe someone threw a wadded up paper at the trash can, like Jim and Ross do at home. They never hit the trash can, and Mommy makes them go pick up the paper off the floor and throw it away prop-er-ly. I thought maybe a piece of paper bounced off and went behind the desk, so I looked."

"Outstanding." I said. "And I'll make sure to tell your mother that Jim and Ross's poor shooting led to your successful result."

Just then the CSI returned to the room. "Ma'am... oh, hello sir. Mr. Matheson apparently did leave his computer in his car when he got home. It was in its bag. There was nothing else in the car except a few oil change invoices in the glove compartment."

"That's another kudo for Carole." Julia said. "She suggested it might be there." She and Carole fist-bumped.

"You're batting a thousand today... Fussbudget." I said with a wicked grin. "Here, hold this. You may earn it yet, one day." I handed my firstborn child my red crowbar. She suddenly forgot about pouting at her nickname as she took it...

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Senior Detective Joanne Warner had come to the scene, theoretically on her way home from work. When she asked if she could be of help, I asked her to go with Julia to interview Mrs. Jones, and asked her to record the interview so that I could watch it later.

The two women went to the house next door and knocked. When a middle aged woman answered, Julia said "I'm Detective Rodriguez and this is Detective Warner. Are you Mrs. Jones?"

"Yes, I am." said Mrs. Jones.

"We understand you called 9-1-1 about hearing a noise next door?" Julia asked.

"Yes, I did." said Mrs. Jones. "Is everything okay over there?"

"Ma'am, may we come in for a moment?" asked Joanne. "We need to get your statement."

"Well, I suppose you can." said Mrs. Jones. "But... are Julie and Dwayne all right?"

"We'll answer everything in a minute." said Julia as they took the initiative and walked on into the house. Mrs. Jones had them sit down on the sofa in the main room, and seated herself on the chair opposite. The window was to the Policewomen's left and her right, giving neither side an advantage.

"May I record this?" asked Joanne, showing her iPhone. "This way, you won't have to come down to the Station and make a statement."

"I suppose that is okay." said Mrs. Jones, albeit a bit skeptically. Joanne was already recording, and continued to do so as Julia began the interview in earnest.

"You called 9-1-1 about something next door?"

"Yes." said Mrs. Jones. "I heard a loud noise, like a gunshot, over there. Just a moment before, Dwayne... Mr. Matheson... drove very fast into the driveway, got out of his car, and rushed inside. I heard the shot... er, the noise, just a few minutes later, and called 9-1-1."

"And what time was that?" asked Julia.

"It was... well, I think it was not quite four o'clock yet." said Mrs. Jones.

Joanne took over: "Did you see anything unusual during the day? Were there any visitors to the house?"

Mrs. Jones said "A van did come to the house, about 9:30 this morning. The sign on the side said 'Morrison Plumbing & Electric'. I didn't recognize that name. A man in work clothes and an overcoat and ski cap went to the front door, and Julie... Mrs. Matheson... let him inside. There was another man, the driver, and he backed the van halfway inside the garage after the garage door was opened, next to Mrs. Matheson's Subaru."

"Can you describe them?" Julia asked.

"They were white... well, they weren't dark skinned." said Mrs. Jones. "The man at the door was short, had a big mustache. He looked like that 'Mario' cartoon character. The other man was taller, leaner. I didn't see much of his face."

"How long were they there?" asked Joanne.

"About... two hours, I guess." Mrs. Jones said. "I really wasn't paying attention the entire time."

Yeah, right, Julia thought to herself, then asked. "Mrs. Jones, did you ever hear the Mathesons arguing, getting into any fights?"

"Not... not for a long time." said Mrs. Jones. "Early last year, last Winter and Spring, Mr. Matheson would come home very late almost every night, eleven p.m., even midnight, and I would hear them arguing that night and sometimes the next day."

"Any idea over what?" Julia asked, which caused Joanne to look over at her colleague with a slightly surprised look on her face.

"I... I couldn't hear them directly." said Mrs. Jones. "But their neighbor on the other side, Mrs. Alicia Tate, was friends with Julie, and she suggested that Mrs. Matheson didn't like the long hours her husband was working."

"You said 'not for a long time'." Joanne said. "So they stopped arguing?"

"Oh yes." said Mrs. Jones, much more enthusiastically. "They must've taken a nice vacation trip, because last Summer Mr. Matheson began coming home much earlier at night, no later than about seven p.m., and they would spend time together on their back patio. They seemed much happier, and I never heard them argue again."

"Okay, then." said Joanne. "I've written this down, and I'd like for you to sign it as a sworn affidavit."

"So are they all right?" Mrs. Jones asked as she perused the notes, then signed at the bottom.

When she was done, Julia answered: "I'm sorry to say, ma'am, that they are not. We found both of them dead. I need to advise you to keep your own doors locked and watch out for strangers that might approach your house, thinking you saw something."

"Oh my!" exclaimed a very shocked and now flustered Mrs. Jones...

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"She's nosy, a busybody." Julia said as they walked back to the Matheson home. "She's probably been watching them for years and listening in on their conversations, which is why I asked if she'd heard what they'd argued about."

"Ah, I was wondering about that." Joanne said. "What interested me, though, is that they stopped arguing, but now months later they're both dead in what sure looks like a murder-suicide."

They walked past the Matheson home to the house on the other side, and knocked on the door. No one answered.

"We'll have to talk to Mrs. Tate later, then." Joanne said. They returned to the crime scene home. They went inside, and found that the bodies were being removed, to be taken to the Morgue.

Martha the M.E. was telling the Iron Crowbar "I believe your initial suspicions are true, Commander, but I can't really tell much here. I did fingernail scrapings, and I'll do the rest during the autopsy."

She meant a rape kit, and she was being vague because Carole was standing next to me, still carrying the red crowbar. The techs were finishing up processing the scene, and would soon put away their gear and leave.

"Hicks!" I called out, and Corporal Hicks appeared almost like Bowser and Buddy would do when called to the door to go out. "Hicks, call First Precinct Headquarters, and have them have two-man details stand watch here overnight. If we leave the place unguarded, the perps might try to come back."

"Why, sir?" asked Roark Coleman.

"To find the one thing they overlooked, but Auxiliary Detective Troy did not." I replied, holding up the bagged piece of paper Carole had found. "Okay, I'm heading back to the Station. Rodriguez, Warner, sorry to do this to you, but duty calls. Meet me at the Station so we can compare notes. You too, Coleman, Washington."

"Yes sir." said a chorus of outstanding Detectives...

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"Mind if I sit in?" asked Chief Moynahan as we assembled in Classroom 'E' at 6:00pm.

"Not at all, Chief." I replied. The Chief sat down in his customary spot at the near end of the table, closest to the door. I was in the middle of the table facing the matrix of screens on the wall. The door (and the Chief) were to my right. Also in the meeting were Detectives Theo Washington, Joanne Warner, Julia Rodriguez, Roark Coleman, Lieutenant Jerome Davis of MCD, Lieutenant Mary Milton and Corporal Penny Scott of Intel, Captain Claire Michaels, and ADA Paulina Patterson.

Carole had been less than pleased when we got back and Sheriff Griswold said he'd take her home. Selena Steele had come by earlier and collected Marie, and the boys and Tasha had been picked up by Molly Evans. I told Carole that I would keep her in the loop about the case, which did not mollify her much... until I asked her if she was changing her mind about going to 'meetings'. At that point, Carole could not get to the Sheriff's vehicle fast enough.

"I watched the interview with Mrs. Jones," I said to start the meeting, "and I want to commend you, Rodriguez, and you, Warner, on they way you conducted it. Very good job, and we got a lot of good information out of it." The Chief nodded in their directions.

"Thank you, sir." said Julia, appreciated being praised in front of her bosses as well as the Chief.

I continued: "One point to that, though... there is no 'Morrison Plumbing & Electric' in this County, and my checks showed no such company by that name in the tri-State area. So either Mrs. Jones was not correct, or we have a 'strangeness' on our hands."

"Yes sir." said Lt. Mary Milton. "There's no company even close to that name, so she didn't just slightly misread it. I suspect it's a fake company."

"Probably." I said agreeably. "Meanwhile, Martha is expediting the autopsy. She's doing it now, so we may get a preliminary report soon. Okay, Mary, what does Intel have for us?"

Mary deferred to Penny Scott, who brought up two DMV photos onto the monitor matrix. One showed Dwayne Matheson, wearing spectacles. He looked 'average' at best and a bit 'geeky' at worst, very much the stereotypical look of a computer programmer. The other showed Julie Matheson, dirty blonde hair, attractive face. One would not automatically assume she also was a brilliant programmer.

Penny Scott began: "Dwayne Matheson and Julie Matheson, both age 26, married four years ago right after graduating from Eastern State with degrees in Computer Technology. No criminal record for either beyond two speeding tickets for him and one for her."