Suicide Serial by Matthew Boyd Page B

to the club the girls had been at the night before.
     
    Pantino Bob’s looked the same from the outside as all the other bars and clubs dotting the street in downtown Winchester. Every building was the same dull red brick and had large windows on the front. Brightly colored flyers were plastered up everywhere, advertising local businesses or an upcoming event or show.
     
    The only thing that could be used to identify the place was a large neon sign in the front window that was now off, and read, “Pantino Bob’s”. Every weekend these places filled up with local students from the college. There was a dedicated police presence every night of the week to keep things in check, but the police did not patrol the area, and instead mostly hung out around their patrol cars parked up in the main intersection in the middle of the action.
     
    What interested Jake the most were the tiny surveillance cameras that had been mounted on the telephone poles a few years ago. There had been a shooting death in the area, and the public demanded that cameras be installed as a way to hopefully reduce crime. Jake banged loudly on the front door of the establishment, but no one answered. Most of these places did not open till much later in the day, so Jake wasn’t very surprised.
     
    He and Stacey strolled up and down the sidewalk, looking into the alley ways, but found nothing special. The man running the cash register at a nearby gas station didn’t remember hearing anything unusual from the night clerk or manager.
     
    “I’m willing to bet we can get some good footage of what happened to Emma Fisher from those surveillance cameras,” Stacey said, scanning the street.
     
    “I’m with you on that. This one right here looks like it’s pointing right at the entrance to Pantino Bob’s.”
     
    “Let’s head to the office and start pulling records. I’ll call video forensics on the way so they can start getting stuff together for us to take a look at. I don’t think it will take them long, everything’s digital now.”
     
    “Remember to thank the taxpayers at the next town hall,” Jake managed with a hoarse rasp, attempting to laugh. “Let’s grab something to eat, too. I could barely stomach that hospital food, and I’m starving.”
     
    “As long as you’re paying, moneybags,” Stacey shot back, as she started up the cruiser and pulled away.
     
    They were back at the precinct within the hour, munching on soggy fries and draining the last bit of soda from the cheap disposable fast food cups. A video forensics technician came in as they were finishing lunch and set a few freshly-burned DVD. He looked like he was busy texting someone on his phone.
     
    “That’s everything on the street camera near the club you asked about between about one o’clock a.m. and four o’clock a.m.,” the tech said, “The quality is not too bad. I hope this helps you guys out.”
     
    Jake slapped his hands together and told the tech, “Appreciate it, Ron. I have a good feeling about this.”
     
    “You’re welcome.”
     
    With that, the tech left the room, still glued to his phone.
     
    “I swear, that’s all I ever see that guy doing,” Jake said. “I can’t stand pushing all those little buttons. Makes my head hurt just thinking about it.”
     
    Stacey giggled and replied, “You’re just getting old, Jake. People now a days don’t have to spin a crank around and ask an operator to connect them anymore, in case you were wondering.”
     
    “Hardy har har,” Jake mumbled, crumpling up the empty bags and chunking them in the garbage. “Ok, partner, lets load these videos up and find our boy.”
     
    Stacey placed the DVD into the player and positioned the screen into place. With a few presses of a button on the control panel, the screen came to life with slightly grainy black and white video. The camera that taped this footage had indeed been placed so that it looked directly over the exit of Pantino Bob’s. They watched