Goddess of Justice by Dwayne Clayden (mobi ebook reader TXT) 📕

We let the facts talk to us.” Brad scrutinized the room. “What does the evidence tell us? Not, does it verify our hypothesis?”

“That’s brilliant,” Steele said. “Did you just make that up?”

“Coulter?” a familiar voice bellowed from the hall.

Brad, Steele, and Zerr swung to the voice.

“What the heck are you doing?” Sturgeon strode toward them slipping off his tan sheepskin gloves and unzipping his brown knee-length overcoat. His winter overshoes were covered with white booties.

“What I always do,” Brad said. “Examining the scene and searching for evidence.”

“Did you not learn anything from my class? You remembered my quote about evidence, but not the part about contaminating the crime scene.” He glared at Brad and then Steele and Zerr. “I understand you two clowns coming in here to secure the scene. But Mother of God, Coulter, why are you in here?”

Steele and Zerr retreated behind Brad. “Uh, I guess that’s my fault. I asked them to bring me in.”

Sturgeon glanced at the floor. “Well, look at that. A few bloody boot prints. Oh my. Is that a Vibram tread? Does anyone here wear boots with a Vibram tread?”

Steele and Zerr glanced at their feet.

Sturgeon’s eyes narrowed. “I need your boots.”

“Sure,” Steele said. “We’ll go to the station and bag them.”

“No, I need them now.”

“But I don’t have a spare pair with me,” Zerr said.

“I don’t bloody well care.” Sturgeon took two evidence bags out of his kit. “In here, boys.”

They glanced at Brad for support. He held his hands high and stepped back.

“Where do you think you’re going, mister?” Sturgeon asked.

“I’m done in here. I’ll get your reports in the morning.”

“Not so fast. I need your boots, as well.”

Brad looked down at his feet. “But I didn’t step in the blood.”

“But you wandered around my crime scene.” He pulled out another evidence bag. “Now.”

“You can’t be serious?” Brad asked.

Sturgeon chuckled. “Not this time, boys. Next time, you’ll be walking in socks.”

Brad stood by the open car window and scratched Lobo’s head. A light snow was falling. The streetlights had hazy glow from the frosty air and snow. The street was blocked off to traffic.

“Your dog is a pig,” Steele said.

“Well, he is a police dog.” Brad zipped his parka, slid on gloves and a black beanie.

Zerr rolled his eyes.

Steele pointed to a line of frozen drool down the side of the car. “Your pretty Trans Am is an icy mess.”

“Are you done here?” Zerr stomped his feet and blew into his gloved hands.

Brad laughed. “Not likely. Why?”

“Let’s get a beer,” Zerr said. “We’ll change and meet you somewhere.”

Brad glanced at the tattoo parlor, the ring of police cruisers and the crowd gathering behind the yellow police line tape. “I should probably hang around here.”

“And do what?” Steele asked. “Stand out here and get covered in snow until you freeze? Sturgeon isn’t letting you near that crime scene until morning, at the earliest. You’ve got uniformed guys to keep gawkers away.”

Then they were blinded by a bright light.

“Detective Coulter, do you have a comment on this situation?”

“Ah, shit,” Brad said.

Steele and Zerr exchanged grins. “We’ll save you a seat.” They slipped away as the light focused on Brad.

“We understand there are multiple dead in the tattoo parlor. Can you confirm this?”

Brad held a hand over his eyes as he crossed the street. “Jeez. Shut that light off. What’s with the cameramen and the bright lights?”

Sadie nodded to the cameraman. “It’s okay.” She was wearing her knee-length white parka, white knit beanie with a pompom and leather boots. The light went out.

“How was your day?” Her bright smile was highlighted by dark pink lipstick.

Lobo was barking frantically and trying to get out the window.

Brad blinked, trying to focus, and turned to Lobo, then back to Sadie. “Lobo, quiet. Ms. Andrus, why do you do that at every scene?”

“Not every scene, just the last couple.” She leaned over the police tape and grinned. “It gets your attention.”

Brad held out his hands. “Next time, Ms. Andrus, try, hey, Detective Coulter.”

Her white-gloved hand touched her chest. “Oh, we’re being formal, are we, Detective Coulter?”

Brad clenched his jaw and sighed. “In this a professional setting, yes.”

“But if it’s not professional, then it’s Brad and Sadie.” Her eyes sparkled.

Brad dropped his head and his shoulders sagged. He stomped his feet as his toes tingled from the cold. “Ask your questions, Ms. Andrus.”

She nodded to her cameraman, and the lights were on again. Brad raised a hand to the light, then lowered it. He stared unseeing at the camera.

Sadie shoved a microphone at his mouth. “Detective Coulter, with you on the scene, I gather it is a murder investigation.”

“It is an investigation of multiple suspicious deaths.”

“For my viewers, a few years ago, the Gypsy Jokers Motorcycle Club owned this tattoo parlor—”

“Gang.”

“What?”

“They’re not a club.” Brad glared at the camera. “They are organized crime.”

“Right, a gang. But the bikers don’t own this place anymore. Do you think the Hells Angels want it back? Is this the start of another biker … gang war?”

“It’s too early to assume anything.” Brad brushed snow off his shoulders. “Until the Crime Scene Unit has done their work, the victims are autopsied, witnesses interviewed, and evidence analyzed, it’s impossible to make any predictions or assess blame.”

“Detective. Are you assuring Calgarians this is not another gang war?”

“That’s not what I said. It’s too early to come to any conclusions.”

“Is this an attack on the sex trade? With the murder of a pimp—”

Brad smiled. “Thank you, Ms. Andrus.” He spun, headed to his car, opened the door, and started the engine.

The camera light went out. As his eyes adjusted again, and before he could pull away, Sadie was tapping at his window. Lobo barked as Brad lowered the window.

Sadie leaned on the car door. “That went well, don’t you think? You’re getting comfortable with TV interviews.”

“Of the many things I would like to perfect, that’s not one of them. Have a safe night.” He put the car in gear.

Sadie leaned farther into the car. Lobo