[Detective Thursdays] Silver Knife
#9 of Detective Thursdays
Six hours from leaving for the trip I pull a file out of my cabinet. Folding the manilla back my eyes glance over the front page of a newspaper from a few months after I started on the force. The dat was May 21, the headline read "Bay City Detectives, Heroes." Below it there was a picture of Jim and I wrestling a crazy eyed rat into a patrol car. The rat was Lemmy Hagon, better known as The Silverknife. Flipping the newspaper over, my eyes were greeted by the initial case report. The date was Dec 24, the crime, Homicide.
Even as I read the words I could feel the cold chill of standing in the shadow of the city loop line on Christmas Eve surrounded by flashing lights.
"So what do you think?" Jim asked after peering under the sheet on the victim.
"I don't know Jim" I said. "I don't think Sergei is responsible for this. It feels too random."
"Yeah, I get the same feeling...which only makes me more nervous." The bloodhound spat and stood up as the 8:45 rolled past. He motions for me to wait an then walks over to the crime scene unit. He knows I can't resist having my own look, it's in my nature. Though as I lift the sheet I wish it wasn't.
Laying on her back was a tabby, Irish more than likely from her bright red fur. Her throat was sliced from edge to edge; a macabre mouth grinning below a face frozen forever into object terror. Sadly I set the sheet down, only to pause noticing that her fur on just about every one of fingers was indented. She had been wearing a fair number of rings, though a gold chainlink bracelet was still clasped around her wrist.
"Anything I miss?" Jim says from behind me.
"I'm fairly certain the assailant stole valuables after the fact, but only the ones he could easily remove. Showing he had a shaky feeling of being secure but didn't feel out of place. Likely he wouldn't have stood out in this area of town; which as this is the shopping district means he would have to appear middle class or better."
"That's...an awfully large supposition, Tanu." Jim started.
"You aske-."
He gave me the Glare and I stopped short. "One that would be correct, the site team found this." He handed me a photo of a silver knife, stained in blood. "No prints. But definitely the murder weapon."
"Any leads on the manufacture?"
"The blade was scraped smooth. Maybe Forensics will turn something up. Either way, we're done here for tonight."
"I've got nothing to do, I think I'll head back to the station and get started."
"Just don't work too hard."
Christmas came and went without too much more than a few overly drunk party goers. It seemed like the whole thing would blow over until the week of New Years however, when another body was found. Everything about the murder was different but the cause was the same: throat slashed by a silver knife. We had a serial killer on our hands.
I didn't go over to the scene. I didn't want to see another like the tabby. I settled for the autopsy notes. Which is when I made a starling discovery that had me storming into Jim's office.
"She still had a gold bracelet!"
"What?"
"The tabby, she was still wearing a gold bracelet when we found her. So was our second, except that they were earrings."
"So what're you saying?"
"I don't think we're going to find a manufacture on those knives, for one."
At that moment Jim went white under his fur, I agreed. It meant we had absolutely nothing to go on, except that the suspect was capable of making silver knives.
The next four months found no breaks in the case, and six more bodies; each missing all their silver jewelry. There was no correlation about where the victims bought jewelry or frequented. They all worked in different fields and were a scattering of races and genders. It truly seemed like a random act of aggression, and probably would have been if not for one thing.
"You know Jim. Every last one of these people was killed within twenty feet of a train station." I said as April waned into May. "There has to be something about that."
"We've been over this Tanu and none of the people who have been murdered rode the train."
"Yeah, I know. It just keeps bugging me."
We were working late one night a week later when the radio on Jim's desk crackled. "We've got an 8-5 at the corner of Wallance and Gerston."
"That's over by Sixth Station, isn't it?"
"We'll head over, that's a rough area."
The drive over was tense. My mind however was spinning, that made nine each within twenty feet of a train station. Once on scene, I made a beeline for the ticket counter.
"Yes officer, can I help you?" The vixen sitting behind the counter asked.
"Do you have a list of everyone that was on staff for the train that came through about an hour ago? Did anyone get off for the night?"
"I don't have that on hand...but I can send it over to you guys in the morning." She said with a smile.
"Alright thanks."
I spent the next morning pouring over the employee logs. Of the twenty men and women that worked the trains that night four had disembarked for the night from Sixth Station. List in hand, I made a few calls and with info in hand came up with a plan.
To Be Concluded...
Response to poetigress' thursday prompt on FA for 9/16/10. Theme was 'day 21'