Race With a Heart
Chapter 87: Crime Scene

Chapter 87: Crime Scene

Professor Kevin Moore didn’t usually show up at the crime scene. Usually there was no such need. The crime department did a great job without him, because the crimes committed in this city were not unusual or complicated. Moore was more useful in cases of kidnappings or disappearances, where time was important and a good analysis of the victim’s behavior in the last period before disappearance. When a body appeared, forensics usually provided enough evidence for detectives to deal quickly with the resolution of the case and the arrest of the murderer. The perpetrator always left a trace, so the collected evidence made it easy to prove the crime if they already had a suspect identified. It was precisely this tracking that could sometimes cause some difficulties, but sooner or later most of the perpetrators revealed their behavior themselves. Unrepentant murderers from which it was impossible to get a confession, or at least a subconscious signal that he is guilty, only happened in the movies. In real life, most suspects could not withstand the pressures of questioning and evidence. Cases were resolved within days.

So if Kevin was called to the crime scene, something intriguing was found. And that in itself intrigued the young professor.

Moore only knew that the body was found. He did not know age, gender or identity. All he knew was that he was to be there.

As a well-mannered boy from a good home who made a career in science, Kevin should not know the place, where the body was found. But he knew them. It is hard for a criminal psychology student not to try to explore the greatest mystery of the civilized world, which were such districts.

As usual, when the crime scene was a public space, a lot of onlookers gathered. Most didn’t come too close. They stood shyly to the side, forming small groups and arguing among themselves. Better not to stand too close, so as not to fall into the eyes of the police and become a witness or, God forbid, a suspect. It was pointless anyway, because if they are local, the police will question them all.

Kevin cautiously pushed his way through the crowd and walked over to the yellow police line. Although he knew the uniformed policeman guarding the crime scene and knew that the policeman recognized him, Moore showed him his ID in accordance with the regulations. He did it practically out of habit.

"You came?" he was greeted by Lieutenant Derek Sullivan, a rather powerful guy in his forties who hadn’t the kindest temper but was a damn good cop.

"Mhm," Moore said. His eyes were immediately drawn to the white sheet that covered the body. "The body is three to four days old, judging by the smell."

"It looks. Young girl, but no ID with her, so we don’t know her identity yet. Initial examination shows beating and suffocation. Her body was stuffed behind the dumpster. "

Moore looked at the garbage can and garbage bags. In the photos, he would see the exact body position, but it looked like someone had to work hard to get the girl in there.

"Prostitute?" He asked.

"Probably. She was dressed like a girl who earns a living with her body. "

"Beaten and strangled ..." Moore wondered softly. "Tucked behind the garbage can. Looks like someone felt a strong resentment towards her. "

"I think so too."

"So why did you call me?"

"What, have you been busy with something else?"

"Maybe..."

In fact, Kevin wasn’t busy after he said goodbye to Jack, maybe just a little sore. He was going to laze around in bed for a while, sleep after a hot and exhausting farewell, and he had to come to the scene of the crime.

Besides, rest is also an activity.

The professor looked at the crime scene again. Forensics were securing traces, everywhere the lights of police cars and an ambulance were flashing, waiting for the body to be collected. A very young man was standing by one of the police cars, scared and pale. He looked as if he had unexpectedly seen a ghost. Or a corpse.

"She’s been lying here a long time," Kevin noted. "Who found her? This boy?"

"Yes," Lieutenant Sullivan confirmed. "The boy and his friends were to celebrate entering his adulthood in one of the clubs. It was supposed to be a memorable birthday. "

"And they will be. Who is talking to him? I do not know him."

"My new partner," Sullivan sighed. Paul Denning. He moved to us from the capital, can you imagine that? "

"Degraded?"

"Worse. Young husband and future father. It was too dangerous in the capital. "

Sullivan’s tone was somewhere between mockery and despair. The young policeman who escapes to the provinces because it is too dangerous in a big city was simply a coward. An old and experienced man like Lieutenant Sullivan had no desire to work with a coward. Partners should support each other and trust each other even in the most difficult moments. If Derek couldn’t trust his partner to support him in a dangerous situation, it was as if he was working alone. No, it’s like working with a heavy crutch.

However, people have different reasons to move from a big city to a smaller one. Kevin Moore glanced at Denning. It was a young, fair-haired man with bright, very gentle eyes. The professor couldn’t hear his words, but he could read from his body language that Denning’s words and behavior were reassuring the boy who found the body.

"Is he a graduate of police university?" Moore asked Sullivan.

"How did you know?!" the lieutenant was surprised. "Anyway it does not matter. You probably sense each other with some sixth sense, you integrationists. "

Kevin ignored this comment. He was used to Sullivan’s not-so-nice personality. What counted was that he was a great cop.

"He doesn’t look like a coward to me. But ... you don’t know if he was injured on duty? "

"What? I do not know. I haven’t checked. Why do you ask?"

"I think he has some discomfort in his right leg, as if she had been injured recently and hasn’t fully recovered."

"Great, partner with trauma," muttered the lieutenant with displeasure, but looked at his new partner a little more favorably. Contrary to the information spread by movies and series, policemen rarely get hurt more seriously than some bruise or cut lip. The criminals did not shoot the policemen, did not stab them with a knife. Such cases were very rare indeed.

Sullivan himself was stabbed once and it was his own fault. Eighteen years ago, a man desperate because his wife’s departure lost his sanity and began swinging a knife. Sullivan was a total rookie at the time and thought he could get the situation under control all by himself. The only thing he managed to do was hurt his hand and be scolded by his superior.

During the entire period of their service, most policemen do not have to deal with any dangerous situation for their health. But there are also cases when heroically and usually very stupidly, they die in the line of service.

It was difficult to choose whether it was better to have a life-loving coward or a stupid hero for a partner?

Nevertheless, even a stupid hero is a hero, and in the subconscious of every policeman who chose this profession with full awareness that one day he might have to give his life on duty, there was a spark of admiration for every injured colleague.

"If my wife found out that I was wounded on duty, she would order me to leave the service," Sullivan sighed.

"Lieutenant, I am not saying that it was like that. He might as well have broken a leg while skiing. Drawing one conclusion or the other is a bit premature ... "

Sullivan shot Kevin a murderous look.

"Moore, you ..." either he lacked a sufficiently strong invective, or he decided that in the presence of a corpse one should behave with dignity, because he had not finished speaking the sentence.

Meanwhile, the lieutenant’s new partner approached them. By watching him walk, Kevin was sure the young policeman hadn’t broken his leg. His thigh muscle was damaged, not a bone. The wound has already healed, but its trace remains in the subconscious.

"I suppose Professor Moore" yang policeman greeted by extending his hand and smiling kindly and warmly. "I’m Paul Denning."

"Pleasure," they shook hands.

"I have heard a lot about you and I am very happy to be able to learn from your experience."

The young policeman was very friendly and kind. He gave the impression that he missed his calling and suited the role of an elementary school teacher or doctor rather than a man who comes into contact with criminals and crime on a daily basis. It was easy to think that he was just too nice for the job.

"You are too kind," Moore replied with just as kind, causing Sullivan to roll his eyes.

"This is some kind of alumni reunion or what ...?" the lieutenant muttered irritably.

"Almost," agreed his new partner. "We had the same professor of criminal psychology, Professor Lansky."

"It’s actually almost like an alumni reunion," Moore said. "Professor Lansky was my supervisor."

"And she gives us you as an example of excellent specialist."

One might think that Denning was licking the professor’s butt, but Kevin, who had dealt with all sorts of flattery before, didn’t get the impression that this was the case this time. Paul Denning seemed to be a very sincere man, naturally open to people. Moore felt oddly comfortable with him. The feeling reminded him of the one he had in the company of one particular person. Even the smile was suspiciously similar ...

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