McDermott to keep everyone where they were, then called Dispatch. “Connie, round up everyone assigned to the shoot, and anyone else on duty you can spare. Briefing in ten minutes. And alert the civilian patrol their services will be needed to maintain a visible presence in town while our officers are tied up with this investigation.”
“Roger that,” Connie said. “Coroner is rolling, ETA twenty minutes. CSR in thirty.”
When Gordon got to the station, Solomon was already drawing a timeline on the whiteboard set up at the front of the briefing room. Gordon joined him as other officers trickled in and took seats.
“What did Gaubatz and Jost say?” Gordon asked.
“They told everyone where to report,” Solomon said, “but didn’t escort them, so it’s possible some didn’t show.”
“Do they have the names of those they found?”
“I’m not sure. Damn. I guess I dropped the ball on this one. Sorry, Chief. I didn’t spell everything out. I should know better than to make assumptions, even with experienced officers.” Hands in his back pockets, Solomon stepped away from the board and gave it a long, hard stare. “A whole lot of nothing.”
“On the plus side, we have a fairly narrow window for time of death,” Gordon said. “Marianna wasn’t there when Mai was getting her wardrobe, and we found her less than two hours later.”
Solomon held up a hand. “Unless she was killed somewhere else and dumped.”
“Right now, we have nothing for motive, nothing for means, and probably dozens of people with opportunity, so let’s stick with the positives.”
“Gotcha. Narrow window for TOD. Good Thing. Check.” Solomon set down the marker. “I got the schedule from Marianna’s RV. I’ll put those names on the back of the board, but I’m going to grab some coffee before we start. Want a cup?”
What harm would one extra cup of real coffee do? He was dutifully taking his blood pressure meds. And this had the makings of a very long day. “Thanks.”
“Oh, and if we get a minute of downtime, I’ve got another lead on the Deadbeat Dad Killer,” Solomon said.
“Let's solve this case first.” Gordon tried to make sure he didn’t sound dismissive. Solomon’s love for putting puzzle pieces together had him convinced there was someone out killing deadbeat dads, and that it was connected to a travel blog, Paula’s Places. Gordon had met Paula while he was vacationing last winter, and there had been a shooting in the area. Since then, Solomon had been trying to tie the blogger to killings across the country. Gordon indulged him, because he didn’t want Solomon to move to a bigger force with a homicide division. And, he confessed, it was fun to watch the way the man’s mind worked.
While Solomon was getting the coffee, Gordon called Laurie in. “We’re going to come up with a list of questions so we can get as many officers doing interviews as possible. I want you to get them transcribed and copied so everyone’s working from the same list.”
“You got it.” She poised her fingers over the laptop she’d brought. “Ready when you are.”
“Did I ever tell you—”
“Not often enough,” she said before he could finish what had become a ritual between them. He reminded himself to praise her efficiency more often.
By the time Solomon returned with station breakroom coffee—which was already scorched—everyone was seated. Gordon took his place at the front of the room.
“We’ve got a situation that needs a speedy, but by-the-book, conclusion. Given the high-profile nature of the movie people in Mapleton, the press will be over this like hot fudge on a sundae, and I want to have answers before they get here.
“All of you have had experience taking statements. We’ve got a boatload of people to question, and the longer we keep them waiting, the more disgruntled they’ll be, so I’m recruiting everyone here to pitch in and interview a few of them. People involved in the movie
“Roger that,” Connie said. “Coroner is rolling, ETA twenty minutes. CSR in thirty.”
When Gordon got to the station, Solomon was already drawing a timeline on the whiteboard set up at the front of the briefing room. Gordon joined him as other officers trickled in and took seats.
“What did Gaubatz and Jost say?” Gordon asked.
“They told everyone where to report,” Solomon said, “but didn’t escort them, so it’s possible some didn’t show.”
“Do they have the names of those they found?”
“I’m not sure. Damn. I guess I dropped the ball on this one. Sorry, Chief. I didn’t spell everything out. I should know better than to make assumptions, even with experienced officers.” Hands in his back pockets, Solomon stepped away from the board and gave it a long, hard stare. “A whole lot of nothing.”
“On the plus side, we have a fairly narrow window for time of death,” Gordon said. “Marianna wasn’t there when Mai was getting her wardrobe, and we found her less than two hours later.”
Solomon held up a hand. “Unless she was killed somewhere else and dumped.”
“Right now, we have nothing for motive, nothing for means, and probably dozens of people with opportunity, so let’s stick with the positives.”
“Gotcha. Narrow window for TOD. Good Thing. Check.” Solomon set down the marker. “I got the schedule from Marianna’s RV. I’ll put those names on the back of the board, but I’m going to grab some coffee before we start. Want a cup?”
What harm would one extra cup of real coffee do? He was dutifully taking his blood pressure meds. And this had the makings of a very long day. “Thanks.”
“Oh, and if we get a minute of downtime, I’ve got another lead on the Deadbeat Dad Killer,” Solomon said.
“Let's solve this case first.” Gordon tried to make sure he didn’t sound dismissive. Solomon’s love for putting puzzle pieces together had him convinced there was someone out killing deadbeat dads, and that it was connected to a travel blog, Paula’s Places. Gordon had met Paula while he was vacationing last winter, and there had been a shooting in the area. Since then, Solomon had been trying to tie the blogger to killings across the country. Gordon indulged him, because he didn’t want Solomon to move to a bigger force with a homicide division. And, he confessed, it was fun to watch the way the man’s mind worked.
While Solomon was getting the coffee, Gordon called Laurie in. “We’re going to come up with a list of questions so we can get as many officers doing interviews as possible. I want you to get them transcribed and copied so everyone’s working from the same list.”
“You got it.” She poised her fingers over the laptop she’d brought. “Ready when you are.”
“Did I ever tell you—”
“Not often enough,” she said before he could finish what had become a ritual between them. He reminded himself to praise her efficiency more often.
By the time Solomon returned with station breakroom coffee—which was already scorched—everyone was seated. Gordon took his place at the front of the room.
“We’ve got a situation that needs a speedy, but by-the-book, conclusion. Given the high-profile nature of the movie people in Mapleton, the press will be over this like hot fudge on a sundae, and I want to have answers before they get here.
“All of you have had experience taking statements. We’ve got a boatload of people to question, and the longer we keep them waiting, the more disgruntled they’ll be, so I’m recruiting everyone here to pitch in and interview a few of them. People involved in the movie
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