Long Shadows (Amos Decker, #7)(9)



“You the ME? Got a preliminary cause and time of death?”

She glanced at him in surprise and then looked around until she saw Andrews standing in the doorway. He grudgingly nodded at her as he walked up to stand next to Decker.

“I am the ME, Helen Jacobs. We’re looking at a pair of GSWs to the chest, looks like they pierced the heart. Death instantaneous. TOD is between midnight and two a.m. last night.”

White said, “Any signs of forced entry?”

“None,” replied Andrews. “And who called you guys down here, Agent White?”

“SAC John Talbott out of the WFO. Give me your number and I’ll text you his contact info. I thought you had been informed.”

Andrews did so and White sent him the info.

“Anything taken?” asked White.

“Still checking. Nothing readily apparent.”

“Name of the deceased?” asked White.

“Alan Draymont,” replied Jacobs.

“We understand he was private security,” said Decker. “Who with?”

“Gamma Protection Services,” answered Andrews. “We contacted them and will set up an interview.”

“Wearing a suit and not a uniform?”

“Gamma has a number of levels of protection. They do mall, warehouse, and office security, assignments like that. For protection at this level, they have higher-skilled operatives.”

“Higher skilled? Like the dead guy?” said Decker, eyeing him closely.

“Like the dead guy,” Andrews shot back. “Nobody’s perfect.”

White said, “Why a bodyguard? Was she getting threats?”

“Checking on that with Gamma,” said Andrews a bit petulantly.

“And if so, why not a U.S. marshal?” said White. “That’s the way it usually works with federal judges, right?”

“Again, checking on that,” said Andrews, now huffily. “But the judge could hire private security if she wanted to. She could afford it.”

Decker looked at him. “You knew her?”

“Acquaintances. I live in Ocean View. It’s sort of a small-town vibe here.”

“Did Draymont fire his weapon?” asked White.

“It’s still in its holster,” replied Andrews.

“And the killer or killers could have put it back there after he fired it,” noted Decker.

Andrews stiffened and said, “We’ll check.”

“Any trace of the killer?” White asked.

Jacobs answered, “Most of the prints we’ve found so far belong to the judge, and a few to Draymont. There are some others, though, that we haven’t identified yet. No footprints that we could find. There’s a low-pile carpet runner on the stairs that didn’t show any trace. And hardwood floors here in the study, upstairs hall, and the deceased’s bedroom. Tough to get anything from that. It hadn’t rained or anything, either, so no shoe impressions that we could find.”

“And the judge’s body?” asked Decker. “How did she manage to do the stairs after she was wounded?”

Jacobs looked at him curiously, then said, “You saw the blood trail on the stair runner when you came in, and on the hardwood floor leading out of here.”

“Hard to miss with your little cones set out. But it was really the bloody palm print on the wall next to the stairs. I assume that must be the judge’s, since two shots to the chest means Draymont wouldn’t have made it out of this room under his own power.”

Jacobs said, “I think she was stabbed once down here and the killing took place upstairs in her bedroom.”

“Let’s go,” said Decker, not liking the two words I think.

They avoided the evidentiary trail on the carpeted steps and reached the second-floor landing, where Andrews led them into the bedroom.

“Killer didn’t step in the blood from downstairs?” asked White.

“No, he was careful about that,” said Jacobs.

Judge Julia Cummins was lying on her bed wearing a short white terrycloth robe. The robe was open, revealing the woman’s black underpants and a white camisole. Someone had put a blindfold over her eyes, but then cut out holes in the cloth where the eyes were. There was blood all over her clothing, and on the bedspread and also on her hands, the bottoms of her feet, and her knees.

“She’s been stabbed repeatedly,” said Jacobs. “Ten times by my unofficial count, not counting defensive wounds. COD was blood loss due to the stabbings.”

“So she was downstairs where she was attacked, ran up here, and the intruder came up and finished her off,” said White.

“Appears to be that way,” said Jacobs cautiously.

“Stabbing someone that many times is personal,” noted Decker.

Andrews interjected, “But we have a ways to go. It’s a complicated crime scene.”

Decker eyed the twisted covers and took in the fact that the mattress was out of alignment with the box springs.

White must have been reading his mind. “Looks like a struggle took place there.”

“You mentioned defensive wounds?” asked Decker, noting the cuts on the woman’s forearms.

Jacobs said, “Yes. It’s natural for a person getting attacked with a knife or blunt instrument to use their arms to block the blows. Multiple slashes. However, the wound to her lower sternum was probably the fatal one. From the location and depth, it likely cut right through her aorta. I’ll know for certain when I do the post.”

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