Who Killed Jeff Jenson?

Chapter One

"This is the case of Jeff Jenson—perhaps one of the most bazaar cases I've ever had the pleasure of solving. Timothy and I had never had a case like this one before, and we probably won't ever again. It would take a lot of twists and turns to top this case...."

       ~ Phillip Small's Journal Entry 3/5/01

                                                                         ~~~

"Timothy, I found that file you were looking for." Detective Phillip Small told his old partner Timothy Miles.
"Oh, good." Timothy said happily as he took the file and looked through it. Then he wrote something down in it and set it down on the desk.
   Just then, the phone rang. Phillip clicked the speaker button. "Mystery Town Police Station, this is Phillip speaking, how may I help you?" Phillip asked the caller.
   "My husband is lying on the floor, dead!" A frantic woman voice answered him. "You have to come, please! I don't think he's breathing!" She said, crying and screaming at the same time. Then the detectives heard a loud sound in the background, "I have to go." She said abruptly, she shouted out her address and hung up before the detectives could say a word.
   "Come on, we'd better go. That woman sounded pretty upset." Phillip told Timothy as he quickly put on his coat and flat cap.
   Phillip ran outside to the car and Timothy wasn't far behind him. They jumped in the car and about ten minutes later, they were pulling into the driveway of the woman's house. They quickly got out of the car as the woman that had called came out to meet them.
   "Come on, quick!" She yelled to them. She grabbed Phillip's arm and pulled him inside, Timothy followed quickly behind. The three stopped in front of a man lying down on the living room floor. He had several knife wounds to his back and his hands were tied up with a lamp cord. Phillip pulled himself away from the woman and ran over to the man. He knelt down to check his pulse, the man was definitely dead. The body looked to have been there for hours before the 911 call had been made.
   "What's his name, Ma'am?" Timothy asked her.
   "Jeff Jenson." The woman answered.
   "And you are?" Timothy asked as he wrote down the name of the victim.
   "Tammy Jenson."
   Phillip stood up carefully, not wanting to destroy any potential evidence. He stepped away from the body. "Ma'am, can you describe what you saw, if anything."
   "I didn't see anything, I said goodnight to Jeff and my adult son who's still living with us," Tammy started to answer.
   "And what's his name?" Timothy asked.
   "Michael." Tammy told him.
"Ok, continue." Timothy said.
"Anyway, I said goodnight to them and went to sleep. Jeff and I sleep in different bedrooms."
"Where do you work?" Phillip asked.
"I work at a club about thirty minutes from here. I um, went to sleep and since Jeff had just been on a long business trip, he had gotten home late; so I brought him breakfast in bed, but he wasn't there. I came downstairs to find him lying there in a pool of blood."
   "Where is your son now?" Timothy asked Tammy.
   "Oh, he—um, left. He has a job down at the drug store." Tammy answered as if trying to remember something from years ago.
   "Is Michael there at his job right now?" Phillip asked Tammy.
   "Probably.." Tammy replied, seemingly unsure. "I gave him a ride over there but I didn't see if he went in." She added hesitantly.
   The detectives got the name of the drug store where Tammy's son, Michael worked, then they got in Timothy's car and drove off. Fifteen minutes later, they arrived at the drug store. They walked in and saw a scrawny teenage-looking guy with brown hair at the counter, they assumed it was Michael.
   Timothy walked up to him and said, "Hello, we'd like to speak to Michael Jenson."
   "Whoa, dude, are you guys like gangsters or something?" The guy asked as if he had never seen men dressed in suits before. He himself wore a dirty white shirt and jeans.
   "No, we're private investigators or detectives if you will. We'd like to ask Mr. Jenson a few questions." Timothy told him.
   "We don't have anyone here with that name, man. Sorry." The guy told them.
   Phillip could tell that Timothy was getting impatient with the young man, Timothy grabbed him by the collar, "Listen up, that man that we're looking for, his dad just got murdered. He's a suspect in the murder. Now I suggest you tell us if you're covering for Jenson, now!" He yelled at him.
   It looked like it was getting hard for the man to breath. Phillip felt sorry for him but he wasn't about to interrupt Timothy. After what seemed like forever, Timothy finally let him go.
   After the teenager caught his breath, he told them, "Out in the ally, there's a gang always there smoking and drinking. I tried to get e'm out of there but—ummm, they—they don't."
   Without a word, Timothy left the drug store. Phillip stayed for a moment, shocked by Timothy's manners. The young man at the counter looked at Phillip as if he had just seen a ghost. Phillip realized that he should probably be leaving.
He walked outside to see Timothy standing up against a wall with his arms crossed. Phillip walked up to him. "What are you doing, Miles?" Phillip asked, "Why'd you loose your temper like that? He wasn't doing anything wrong."
"Shhh," Timothy commanded, "follow me." Phillip followed his partner into the ally, as the guy at the counter had said, there were three men sitting on some crates, smoking and drinking.
"Um, hello." Phillip greeted them, he was a little afraid of these men—they didn't look like teddy bears, that's for sure.
The three looked up at them, two of them started to laugh at the detectives standing before them. The large man in the middle elbowed the other two as a warning to shut up, he was obviously the gangs' leader.
"Which one of you is Michael Jenson?" Timothy asked them, not a hint of fear in his voice.
The man in the middle stood up—he wore a leather jacket and jeans, he was bald with a brown beard and he had tons of tattoos. He looked to be about thirty years old. "I'm Michael Jenson."
Great. Phillip thought, The big guy.
"Michael, I'm afraid I have some saddening news, your father is dead—murdered." Timothy gave it to him straight.
"Huh?" Michael asked old Timothy, "My dad? Dead?" Michael didn't seem to be able to comprehend the thought.
"Yes, Michael. Dead." Phillip confirmed.
Michael just sat down, looking blank, he was obviously in shock.