Murder 101. Faye Kellerman

phone calls and interviews with the family, the Met and Emanu-El were perfect places to visit with Rina. The museum was open until six. The temple was open tomorrow between ten and four and visitors were welcome without an appointment. Then it was off to Philadelphia to see Cindy, Koby, and the kids.

      It was close to six in the evening when Decker headed back to Brooklyn for the family dinner. He was also starved so he hoped that wherever Rachel and Sammy had chosen, the place believed in large portions. The minihamburgers had long been digested, leaving a raw ache inside his stomach. At this point it was all about quantity rather than quality. As he drove, he started thinking about the theft, wondering if McAdams had dug up anything since the last time they spoke.

      Arriving in Brooklyn at the kids’ apartment, he was tired and grumpy, but the baby’s smile cheered him up. Soon the space began to shrink as the crowd grew. It was wonderful to see everyone. There were hugs, kisses, and lots of laughter and that was before dinner. Finally, everybody was assembled and Rachel had finished giving the babysitter last-minute instructions. The brood stepped out into the cold night air, Decker’s children walking ahead, catching up with one another’s lives. They talked about movies, songs, and television series that left Decker in the dark.

      “Do you know what they’re talking about?” he asked Rina.

      “Kinda. You know, we do have Netflix. You can stream a lot of series. That means you watch them all at once.”

      “I know what streaming is, Ms. Flipphone.”

      “It serves me perfectly well. All I do is make calls and text. Why should I get a new one, especially in a small town where we don’t need an app to know every single gas station or movie theater within a thirty-mile radius.”

      Decker felt his own smartphone vibrate. Without checking the caller, he let the call go to voice mail. He watched his kids joke around with each other. “We did something right. They all seem to get along.” His phone vibrated again. He took it out of his coat pocket and checked the prefix. “It’s the police station. Probably McAdams. I should probably take this.”

      “Why are they calling so late in the evening?”

      “Yeah, that ain’t good.” He slowed his walk. “Go on with the kids. I’ll meet up with you.”

      “Do you know where the restaurant is?”

      “Actually, I have no idea.” He dithered so long that the call went to voice mail again. He debated whether or not to call back. “Whatever it is, I suppose it can wait until I get fed.”

      “That certainly is a change in your previous attitude.”

      “Yeah, the difference between being the person in charge and being a peon. Besides, how can I help? I’m three hours away.” They were almost at the entrance of the restaurant when the phone buzzed a third time.

      Rina said, “It must be important.”

      “Yeah, I guess. Go in with the family. I’ll be with you in a few minutes.” He pressed the button. “Hey, Harvard, what do you have for me?”

      “It’s not McAdams, Pete, it’s Mike Radar.”

      Decker had asked the captain for another day in Manhattan so he had expected to hear back. But not at eight in the evening. And not with the tone of voice he was using: all business.

      Mike said, “How soon can you get back here?”

      “How soon do you need?”

      “Ten minutes ago.”

      “What is it?”

      “Homicide. First real one we’ve had in twenty years and it’s nasty. It should make you feel right at home.”

      Decker went back to Sammy’s place and grabbed the car, insisting that Rina stay in Brooklyn and visit Cindy, Koby, and the boys tomorrow. They’d be disappointed if no one made the trip, and he’d most likely be very busy for the next twenty-four hours.

      He made it back to Greenbury in two hours and fifteen minutes.

      He was famished, although he barely noticed his pangs because as soon as he pulled up in front of the apartment building, his heart began to beat in full throttle. The “crime scene” was a mess and teeming with people who didn’t belong. Nothing was taped off so everyone was tromping around the complex, destroying things like possible shoe prints and tire tracks and trace evidence.

      The neighbors were out in droves. Greenbury PD was small. Often, the guys and gals took turns doing uniform duties and detective work. So in a very short time, Decker knew the entire force by name. Stacy Steven, bundled in outerwear to protect her from the frigid temperatures, was guarding the doorway to the building. She was very young and seemed relieved when she spotted Decker. “The captain’s inside. Unit 14.”

      “Anyone else here besides you?”

      “Yeah, everyone from the department is here. Mike put me in front and told me not to let anyone in or out.”

      “When was it reported? The homicide.”

      “I don’t know. Mike called all of us down about two hours ago.” She jumped up and down and rubbed her hands together.

      “You’ve been out here for two hours?” When she nodded, Decker said, “Let’s see if we can get a change of guard. Actually we should have a few people out here, shooing away the neighbors and putting up some crime scene tape.” No response. “You do have crime scene tape.”

      “Honestly, I have no idea.” She paused. “We have traffic cones somewhere.”

      “That’ll work. Hang in, Stacy. I’ll be back in fifteen minutes with some help.” He quickly made his way up to the apartment unit, the living room stuffed with police personnel. The windows were wide open letting in the cold night air.

      Kevin Butterfield, a ten-year veteran of Greenbury, came up to him. “The body’s in the bedroom. Young and female. Probably a student at the colleges.”

      “Is this considered campus housing?”

      “It’s a little distant from the main campus, but the colleges have spread out so much over the past ten years, I really don’t know.”

      “Anyone from campus police here?”

      “Maybe Mike called someone down.”

      “I didn’t see any wagon outside. Has anyone from the coroner’s office been here?”

      “Mike would know.” He pointed in the direction of an open door. “There’s where all the action is.” Kevin shook his head. “This must be one hell of a welcome for you.”

      “Maybe it’s me, Kevin. I just bring sunshine and good cheer wherever I go.”

      “Angeline Moreau, twenty-two, a student at Littleton.” Mike ran his hands through his hair and looked up. “That’s according to the school ID that we found in her desk. It’s kind of hard to make a definite ID because the face is distorted. We may need dental or DNA.”

      Decker was looking at the surroundings as the captain spoke. It was a brutal scene. “Did you find a purse and a cell phone?”

      “Nope … we looked. That immediately brings to mind a robbery, except that she had cash and jewelry in her desk. Maybe he was looking around when she surprised him by walking inside her apartment and all hell broke loose. He took her phone and her purse and made a beeline for the door.”

      Decker nodded. “Do you know if the body has been moved?”

      “I was here when the manager opened the door and I haven’t left except for a piss. Believe me, no one has touched her. Since it’s a homicide, I’m waiting for a city coroner with homicide experience, not the local doctor who certifies death.”

      “Good idea.” Decker’s eyes were on the walls: blood spatter was everywhere. There was ripped bedding and upended