다빈치!지식창고 - (Slice) Chapter 6

Stenson poured over the murder book with the intensity of a Rhodes scholar cramming for a final exam. He was trying to make sense of Redmond’s notes, checking continuity and searching for some little detail that might give him a lead as to where to proceed in the investigation. Donna Copp, Detective Martin and Constable Jim Slater had also added notes. They were all entered in chronological order. It was noted that the autopsy was underway and it took priority over all other forensic considerations. Stenson was aware that, under the current circumstances, the autopsy report would be completed by later in the evening or by early morning at the latest. He was meticulous in pursuit of a motive for the murder. At the moment, he was baffled. Whenever he was puzzled by a case, especially in the early stages, he would type up the entire murder book on his desktop computer. Sometimes, by typing it, it gave him a different perspective. He was a superior typist, having completed the elective course in high school; he maintained a typing speed of 80-words per minute. It took less than a half hour for him to finish the job. However this time, there were no answers; he was just as baffled as when he started. He downloaded the finished version from his desktop computer to a two-inch long, 8- gigabyte flash drive, which had a cord lanyard long enough to place around his neck. He hung it around his neck, and then tucked the drive under the open neck of his shirt. He could later upload the entire book to his laptop at home to study it further. At this point, there was no evidence or indication in the book as to why Jenkins was killed. There was no murder weapon found, no footprints in the soft grass of the fairway, or at the water hazard, nothing at all that seemed to belong to the killer, and no witnesses. The only thing found in the vicinity was a white wooden tee with no fingerprints. If it belonged to the victim, it would have had his prints on it. Odd, he thought. No one saw anyone or anything suspicious. How did the perp leave the area? Did he leave? If he...or she didn’t leave, then the perp might have been right under our thumb all the time. Hmm. Maybe it was someone who is working at the golf course, a staff member perhaps? Did Jenkins insult or offend someone on the staff? Did he have an altercation with another golfer? If he did, who would have known about it? Stenson thought it might be worth a visit with Karen Kelder, the club manager.

Donna Copp threw a report on Stenson’s desk, on top of the murder book. Stenson looked up without flinching. His hand was draped over his pursed lips. Removing his hand from his mouth, he smiled at Donna and picked up the report without reading it. “What do we have here?” “Preliminary autopsy report, forensics, and canvassing report.” She said. “Why are you giving this to me; why not Rick?” Stenson asked. “He wasn’t at his desk. I think he’s downstairs talking to the victim’s sister. From what I understand, she is quite a piece of work.” “Whom have you been talking to?” “I have my sources.” She said and then added. “The clerk on duty.” Stenson stood up. “Well I think Rick should see it first.” Contrary to what he said, Stenson opened the report and quickly scanned it, making mental notes. Redmond came into view, walking towards his desk. “Speak of the devil and he appears.” Stenson lifted his attention from the report. Redmond ambled over to them. “What’s up?” “You look terrible. What hit you?” Donna asked.

Redmond laughed. “Geoff Jenkins sister, that’s what hit me.” “What did she want?” she asked. “To take matters into her own hands is my guess. It doesn’t matter. What do you have? Actually let’s go to the meeting room rather then discuss this out here.” Donna picked up the report and carried it with her. Once inside the meeting room, Redmond poured three cups of stale day- old coffee, giving one to each of them before he filled them in on his encounter with Jean Jenkins. Taking a drink of his coffee, Redmond sputtered, “Whoa! This shit is worse than any rotgut I’ve ever tasted. One of these days they’ll give us real coffee.” “Sure.” Donna shot back cynically. “They’ll go to Java Blend Coffee on North and pay fifteen dollars a pound for us. Who are you kidding?” “That ain’t gonna ever happen.” Stenson said stating the obvious. “Let’s get down to business, guys.” Rick said impatiently. “What have you got?” Donna handed the report to Rick and said. “Looks like the Vic was hammered with a golf club. There are some line indentations on his forehead, just above his eye. Not sure if the lines are complete because his eye was crushed in and some of the lines there were lost. Not positive yet if that’s what killed him, but we should know definitely by tomorrow morning. If we can come up with the murder weapon, the lines on the club might conform to the lines on the Vic’s forehead. However, it doesn’t look like much of anything else there. At least that’s a start.” “Okay. What about Jenkin’s club?” “According to forensics, his club was clean.” “What about the golf course? Did the Forensic Unit come up with anything? Rick asked. Donna shrugged and looked to Stenson for help. Stenson spoke up quickly, remembering the info that he got from the report.

“Well it seems as though very little was found in the vicinity; some cigarette butts, beers cans, tons of golf balls, and a few candy wrappers, none of which was considered to be useful, except for a wooden tee found next to the body, no prints.” Redmond interrupted, “Is it possible that the tee was left by the perp while he was waiting for the Vic?” “Anything’s possible, but it’s not too likely that the perp was waiting by the pond for the Vic in plain sight. It doesn’t make sense. And since there were no prints on the tee, it definitely didn’t belong to the Vic, or another player that might have accidently dropped it.” “Let’s hang on to the thought that it could be a signature.” Redmond said. “I’ve heard of worse things.” Donna said. Stenson continued. “The dogs found nothing. They covered a 500-yard radius from the murder site. The houses that are on the property were canvassed and no one saw anything that seemed suspicious; saw no one walking, but did see a few cars, all nondescript, coming and going, but nothing unusual that drew their attention.” Donna added, “It is possible that the perp went to the club in his car, killed Jenkins and left right away without anyone seeing him” “And if he did,” Redmond replied, “what does that tell us?” “Not much. Maybe he’s a regular?” He obviously had knowledge of the area. Stenson answered. “One thing did occur to me, though.” “What’s that?” Redmond inquired. “What if the perp never left? What if he is part of the course environment?” “Hmm. You mean that he is either one of the golfers we saw, or possibly on staff?” Rick asked. “I think we need to visit the golf club again, and find out the names of everyone who was at the course, staff included.” Donna said.

Donna laughed at Stenson. “Time to bring our own coffee.” “I have to talk to um ... um ... oh yeah, Philip Nickerson.” Redmond stammered. “And he is?” Donna asked. “Lisa Jenkins friend. He was apparently with her when Geoff was killed. I need to know a bit more about him. I have a feeling he just may have had something to do with it. We’ll convene here at 11:00 a.m. tomorrow.” Redmond decided. Stenson ripped off a paper towel from the roll on the counter and wiped up the coffee he spit out. “Time to get out of here.” “Lets get a real cup of coffee, shall we?” Donna suggested. “Sure, why not?” He agreed. “Shall we meet at the Wired Monk? Or do you want to go someplace else?” She smiled. “The Wired Monk is fine.” Returning her smile. “Meet you there in ten.”