Chapter One – The Policeman
The sun shone with a bite on a tanned body that glistened with sun screen and perspiration. Andy tried to angle his head to take in more of his gorgeous female companion but felt some unseen force prevent him from doing it. Then a noise that quickly grew in crescendo. Familiar but not yet identified. Then everything seemed to go dark. That’s when Andy woke up.
He shook his head to clear it and had only microseconds of memory of a beach and someone by his side, before it all faded and became too difficult to recall. Dreams were like that. The noise was still there, filling the bedroom with its raucous buzzing. He looked at the clock and slapped a hand down. There was instant quietness, but only for a second then gradually the sounds of day crept in to replace it. A bird twittering. Car noises. Another day had begun.
Andy shaved, soaked up warmth in a hot shower and dressed in his work suit. Yesterday’s shirt caught his eye but he shook his head. The shirt was also yesterday’s shirt, yesterday. Still one left in the robe. Coffee was good and something more substantial would be had on the way. Ben’s Burgers did a mean breakfast of toast and eggs and other bits and pieces.
He was halfway into the eggs when his cell phone rang. He ignored it but finally when other customers were giving him strange looks, he took it out and pressed the required button. Couldn’t he at least get into the office before starting? Eggs and coffee continued to go down together, as he listened. It was going to be one of those days. Not even starting at the sanctuary of work where a second cup of black coffee would keep him going. Straight out into the world. Maybe Len would be efficient until he became fully functional.
Andy paid the tab and drained his cup by the time he reached the door. Traffic was as bad as ever and he gave the freeway a miss. Boston was getting just too crowded and he often thought of moving. May be New Bedford with views of Nantucket. One day.
The house was large and set back on the street. Already two black and whites were positioned and three plain units. One was his colleague and the other was the county medical officer, Dr. Helvers. Andy had worked with him long enough to call him Ivers. In return, he got called Andyou. He couldn’t remember how that came about, but it was years back. The officer at the door nodded a recognition and inside he headed to where the noise was.
“Morning boss. Should be safe to walk about. Forensics were here early. Out the back checking the windows and grounds.” Andy gave a half wave and realised the other car was theirs.
“What have we got Len?” In truth, he already had the outline. Sharp eyes and a probing mind, plus the earlier phone call, were enough.
Len beamed as he spelt out the facts. He liked to feel he was useful but he did stick to the facts. Andy employed his gut feeling as well. Not always appreciated in the modern day of doing it by the book or by the superintendent’s orderly process. “His name is, or rather was, Walter Merrell, the owner. Found by a John Sturgiss at about 8.30 this morning. Came to play golf. Found the door open and went looking for his golfing partner. Found him as you see him. On the floor with his head cracked open.”
“Where is this Sturgiss?”
Len pointed over his shoulder. “In the kitchen with a patrolman.
The doctor entered and looked pleased to see his old friend. “Andyou. Nice day. Well not for this fellow obviously. Blow on the head. Only one but very heavy. Crushed the cortex obs……anyway death was instant.”
Andy looked at the body and the step ladder lying on it’s side nearby. The room was a library and shelves reached to near the ceiling. He noticed the ladder had small wheels.
“Any idea when death happened?”
Ivers pulled off his gloves and dropped them into his bag. Then smiled at his work companion. “Thermo suggests ten hours. Found at eight this morning so that makes it about ten o’clock last evening.” He put up his spare hand in a mock self defence attitude. “Sorry. That’s your department.”
“Accident or foul play?” Andy hoped the good doctor had a guiding tit bit to start the ball rolling.
Ivers smiled and did up his coat. “All work for you, my friend. I can’t say either way. Only that whatever way it was, our book worm ended up not breathing. More after I get him back on the work bench.” He smiled and left.
Work bench. Andy winced at the choice of words. ‘No sensitivity for the dead’ he thought. There was little to go on. Merrell may have leaned too far on his ladder and toppled off. That means maybe a book or two on the floor. There was one near the window. It was big and looked heavy. He bent down and looked carefully. No obvious blood. So what did he hit his head on?
“Sergeant Davies.” Len knew that when he was called by his title, his boss was in thinking mode and needed answers to anything that passed through his mind.
“Boss.”
“If this fella did the high dive, what did he hit his head on?”
Detective Andrew Dewhurst had already found two items to suit, but needed confirmation. Maybe a third but he doubted it.
Len Davies scratched his head. “Well I thought of that. Only thing could have been the floor. No furniture to speak of.”
Andy shook his head. “So the floor fitting for the portable gas fire is out?”
The younger man coloured a little. “Hadn’t thought of that. It seemed too far away. I’ll see if forensics found blood.” As he started to turn, his superior’s voice stopped him in his tracks.
“There’s a broken ceramic something under the desk. Add that as well. Anything from our golfer?”
“Still upset. Appears Merrell kept to himself and rarely went out. Some sort of retired academic. I’ll get a full statement tomorrow.”
At the police station, Andy read the preliminary medical and the forensic on site evaluation. No footprints in the garden. No windows or doors forced. He had found where ‘Seas and Lands’ by Sir Edwin Arnold had rested on the top shelf before it came to rest on the floor. It was a first edition and besides hard bindings to enclose a lengthy treaty, also boasted metal corners. But there was no blood. They had re-enacted the ladder falling from where it had lay and found two things. One was that upright, it was about three feet beyond where the book resided. This meant that Sturgiss could have reached for it with a long stretch and lost his balance. The ladder would have come down where it did and where the victim had ended up. The other thing was that there was no blood on the gas connection, but there was on the ceramic bust. Sizeable pieces were found in a couple of locations. It may just have been on the floor at the point of impact, causing death. The medical report found minute porcelain pieces from the statue in the wound.
Len Davies entered with two mugs of coffee and sat down, placing one in front of his boss. “ What’s it look like?”
A big sigh came from the elder man as he picked up the mug and sniffed it. “It looks like we have a dead man.” Davies screwed up his nose at the droll comment. His boss continued. “As to what killed him, we know that it was a statue of Napoleon’s head. Probably. Did he fall off his perch and hit his head on Bonaparte? Probably. Did some one steal into his library and pick up the porcelain dictator and clobber him? Probably. My gut feeling is the latter.
“Why.”
“It’s all too neat. Ladder conveniently pushed over. Don’t like things that look like accidents. They invariably turn out to be the opposite. Some one got in and took our quiet librarian out.”
“Can you be sure?”
Andy scratched his head. “Nope. Can’t be sure of anything, but I have a feeling it was deliberate. Library man was the target and they succeeded.”