Flying Bats and Cracker Jacks

Chapter 3 (Examining the Crime Scene)

There is a reporter on the field who was waving a microphone in presumably, the pitcher's face. "Excuse me," she said, "Are you the next Mr. Murder?"

Alvarez swoops in, "Certainly not! From what I heard, Romaniro was shot. Harrison Anderson did nothing wrong and while my client would love to be compared to the legend Monte Irvin, who was just as instrumental as Bobby Thomson in the New York Giants thrilling win over the Brooklyn Dodgers in 1951, he's committed no heinous crime. So please, leave my client alone."

The reporters swarm away from the honey and she spends a moment alone with Anderson while Peter observes from the sidelines.

"You know about Monte Irvin?" Anderson asks.

"Of course! Every baseball fan knows about Bobby Thomson's famous home run nicknamed the "Shot Heard 'Round the World" to win the game. However, Mr. Murder doesn't get enough credit for his role in the game. He scored twice and had two doubles. He was one of my favorite players for the New York Giants."

He gapes at her. "He's one of my favorites too! Are you a Yankees fan now?"

Her eyebrows pull together in disgust. "Oh hell no. I can't be a Yankees fan because they bought too many world series. I'm an old school Giants fan and now I root for the Mets."

"Not the Braves? You don't want to root for the home team?" He winks suggestively.

She shrugs, "Eh, no thanks. My heart is in New York."

"A lawyer from New York? What did I do to deserve such a distinguished lawyer?"

She laughs, "I'm not a lawyer. That was the first lie I thought of to get rid of the reporters. If I said I was with the police, they wouldn't have cared." She flashes her badge hidden under her blazer and reaches into her pocket to grab her credentials. "Here," she says,  "Detective Alvarez, Atlanta, Georgia Police Department."

He rubs his chin and his face falls. "Ah, so I'm a suspect."

"Not a suspect, a witness. I don't think you killed him because of the gaping wound in the back of his head and the fact that you were the one who watched him die. This killer was someone who wanted you to believe that you killed a man, if even for a second. They wanted to torture your psyche. Do you have any enemies who would want to inflict this kind of harm on you?"

"Hmm, nobody I can think of," he shifts from foot to foot and doesn't meet her eyes. "Are you sure I didn't injure him and the EMT that dropped him on the field killed him? I feel responsible and maybe she was too? I don't know. It's almost like he had a prescription to die when someone so close to death was his head physician," he says while ruffling his fingers through his blonde hair to release some of his tension.

"Okay, now that's just rude. The poor, nice, old lady could have had a heart attack from the shock and here you are, chastising her."

"I didn't mean to be rude but I just... I don't know what happened yet I feel responsible in some way." He sighed.

She had been studying his mannerisms throughout the conversation and determined that she had heard enough. "Well, I don't think you are responsible. We'll continue our investigation and look into it." She gave the classic vague answer with ease. It was one of her most commonly used phrases that means nothing at all.

She politely waves goodbye and finds Peter lurking near the blood stains on the field.

She whispers in his ear, "Probie, I don't like the pitcher. When I asked him if he had an enemy who would want to do this to him, he started squirming like a bean. He's definitely hiding something."

Rolling his eyes he says, "That could just be because he thought he killed a man an hour ago."

"Perhaps but notice his body posture. Look over your shoulder. His arms are crossed as if he's guarding something. He's also stressed and scared. He looked as if he'd seen a ghost. My theory is that he's a good guy who got himself involved in something illegal and now he doesn't know how to get out. At this point, why would he tell the authorities anything?"

"Good point. He has no reason to tell us what he's involved in."

"Uh huh," she pops her bubblegum, "We'll have Tamara look into his background when we get back to the station. We'll let autopsy collect the body and let forensics check for evidence though I doubt they'll find any. Let's head up to the press box to see if they caught anything on film."

Then she turned her head and spit on the field.

"Sorry, I've always wanted to do that. It's not quite as fun as I thought it would be but after years of watching the players do it, I just had to try it for myself."

Peter shakes his head in disbelief. She was anything but predictable.