The Eighty-eighth Key Ch. 33

He walked over to the driver's door and looked inside, saw the wound on the vic's forehead and bent over to look more closely while he pulled a penlight from his coat pocket. Powder burns on the skin, some reddish-gray - indicating the muzzle had been placed right against the skin.

"So...this was the second shot," he sighed as he pulled on latex gloves before he moved any further along. Next, he felt the back of the skull - "clean...no exit wound...small-caliber hollow-point, maybe a 38, probably a 32..."

He looked around the guy's neck, saw some smeared lipstick and nodded unconsciously: "Uh-huh." He pulled back before he took a deep breath, then he went to look at the lower wound.

Same thing. Powder burns on the flesh just above the guy's dick, so the bullet went through the bladder on the way to the large intestine...which accounted for the absolutely disgusting smell...because when the guy passed he lost sphincter control and everything came rushing out...into the seat...

So, our suspect was female and she was giving the guy head. When she got to the short-strokes, and when he was thoroughly distracted, she pulled out her pistol and put one in his groin, then sat up and put another into the vic's forehead.

Very professionally done, all in all. Forethought, set the trap and spring it, all without giving herself away.

He heard a crime scene van pull up, and probably the coroner's wagon too.

Sure enough, the technicians and a photographer were waiting behind the victim's car and he turned them loose after he told the photographer what he wanted. He watched as fingerprints were lifted from the passenger door and off the passenger's seat belt, then one of the techs barked "Got something!" and he walked over to the passenger's door.

"What is it?" Callahan asked.

"Business card," the tech said, slipping the card into a transparent evidence baggie and handing it to Callahan. He noted the name and address of an art gallery near Ghirardelli Square and handed the card back to the tech, then he walked over to the trail that led down to the old baths and the Seal Rocks overlook.

Because he had suddenly wanted to get away from all this death more than anything in the world, and now he felt sick to his stomach...just like some rookie at his first homicide. He shook it off and walked around for a few minutes, then walked back to the crime scene, then over to his car. He got a fresh note pad and walked back to the scene, got the incident service number and the responding officer's name and badge number before he walked back to his car...

And Bullitt was there, waiting.

"What have you got?"

"Pissed off woman. Double tapped her vic, first in the groin, second in the forehead."

"No leads?"

"One. An art gallery. I'll check it out later in the morning."

"Sorry I ran out on you last night. Had to go out to the airport. We drove by your place, wanted to take you out to dinner..."

"Who's 'we'?"

"Evelyn. My sister. She came in last night, going to stay out at the place with Cathy and I for a while. Going through a shitty divorce, really down in the dumps."

Harry felt a palpable release when the words hit, then a passing wave of guilt. "So, what's with Cathy? I heard some unusual stuff..."

"Yeah, she's been a little unhinged lately. Look, whatever you say, never, and I mean never, ever, say the word menopause around her, alright?"

Harry chuckled at the thought, then shook his head. "So, you guys are okay?"

"Yeah. See, the thing is, she says I've got commitment issues, and well, the thing is, well, I think she's right."

"Uh-huh. And what does that mean?"

"Well, see, the thing about it is, well, I think it's time we got married."

"Frank? You feeling alright? You look a little green..."

"I feel a little green."

"You had breakfast yet?"

"No. You?"

Callahan sighed, tried to put his newfound anguish away. "I feel like I got about two hours of sleep," he said, yawning again. "Maybe some coffee..."

"I need some fuckin' pancakes or something. The Diner sound okay to you?"

"Lead on, sire, and I shall follow."

When they were finally sitting at a corner table and breakfast was ordered, Frank leaned in close.

"The Threlkis reception is going to be at The Top of the Mark..."

"No shit?"

"Yeah. You sure you want to go through with this?"

Callahan leaned back in the booth, then grinned. "Yeah..."

"Good. Because I have a plan..."

© 2020 adrian leverkühn | abw | and as always, thanks for stopping by for a look around the memory warehouse...[and a last word or two on sources: I typically don't post all a story's acknowledgments until I've finished, if only because I'm not sure how many I'll need until work is finalized. Yet with current circumstances (a little virus, not to mention a certain situation in Washington, D.C. springing first to mind...) so waiting to mention sources might not be the best way to proceed. To begin, the primary source material in this case - so far, at least - derives from two seminal Hollywood 'cop' films: Dirty Harry and Bullitt. The first Harry film was penned by Harry Julian Fink, R.M. Fink, Dean Riesner, John Milius, Terrence Malick, and Jo Heims. Bullitt came primarily from the author of the screenplay for The Thomas Crown Affair, Alan R Trustman, with help from Harry Kleiner, as well Robert L Fish, whose short story Mute Witness formed the basis of Trustman's brilliant screenplay. Steve McQueen's grin was never trade-marked, though perhaps it should have been. John Milius (Red Dawn) penned Magnum Force, and the 'Briggs'/vigilante storyline derives from characters and plot elements originally found in that rich screenplay, as does the Captain McKay character. The Threlkis crime family storyline was first introduced in Sudden Impact, screenplay by Joseph Stinson. The Samantha Walker character derives from the Patricia Clarkson portrayal of the television reporter found in The Dead Pool, screenplay by Steve Sharon, story by Steve Sharon, Durk Pearson, and Sandy Shaw. I have to credit the Jim Parish, M.D., character first seen in the Vietnam segments to John A. Parrish, M.D., author of the most fascinating account of an American physician's tour of duty in Vietnam - and as found in his autobiographical 12, 20, and 5: A Doctor's Year in Vietnam, a book worth noting as one of the most stirring accounts of modern warfare I've ever read (think Richard Hooker's M*A*S*H, only featuring a blazing sense of irony conjoined within a searing non-fiction narrative). Denton Cooley, M.D. founded the Texas Heart Institute, as mentioned. Many of the other figures in this story derive from characters developed within the works cited above, but keep in mind that, as always, this story is in all other respects a work of fiction woven into a pre-existing historical fabric. Using the established characters referenced above, as well as a few new characters I've managed to come up with here and there, I hoped to create something new - perhaps a running commentary on the times we've shared? And the standard disclaimer also here applies: no one mentioned in this tale should be mistaken for persons living or dead. This was just a little walk down a road more or less imagined, and nothing more than that should be inferred, though I'd be remiss not to mention Clint Eastwood's Harry Callahan, and Steve McQueen's Frank Bullitt. Talk about the roles of a lifetime...]