Troubleshooter

Chapter 27 - Superintendent, Not Delighted

PAUL PAID the grumpy cab driver and got out. Tess Herbert lived on Cyprus Street, a picturesque row of restored brick houses with doors and window frames painted in blue, close to Victoria Park.

McAllister's word had been good, and Paul was on some sort of access list.

"Good afternoon, Sir," a superintendent named Gordon greeted him. "You come highly announced." This was clearly not meant in awe.

"Thanks for letting me in on the crime scene. I hope it is not too inconvenient." Paul actually was a little embarrassed.

"My orders are clear: Answer every question; don't ask any." Gordon sniffled. "A bit of reverse order, if you asked me. Come on in. The technicians are just done with dusting and such. Orders aside, I still must ask you not to touch anything without permission."

There was a small pathway marked with non-static foil which one technician was in the process of wrapping up. The living room bore the signs of heavy crime scene work, all surfaces dusted, various markers on the floor and on furniture, and two rigs with floodlights, now switched off. It was eerily silent; the remaining technicians were working quietly.

"We do not really know what happened at this point. The facts are few: dead body of Mr. Brady. Shot three times with a .22 handgun, two in the upper body and one in the forehead. Not much bleeding on the outside. Time of death around 2:00 tonight. Inconclusive from the blood patterns whether the body was moved after death. The body was clean, no personal belongings whatsoever on him. A fitting but not yet verified gun found hidden in the kitchen. Smeared fingerprints on it, not identifiable. A lot of money found in the bedroom in a duffle bag. Again, no fingerprints. A brief phone call with the British Mint indicated that our sample serial numbers were originally issued in Asia about five years ago, Hong Kong, Macao or Seoul."

"And what did the owner Ms. Herbert have to say?" Paul asked.

"She goes to a local gym every morning from six to seven, confirmed by the gym. She left at 5:45, verified by a neighbor. She came back around 7:15, discovered the body in the living room. Recognized him as a company auditor with the last name of Schwartz. Got the shock of her life and ran out of the front door into the hands of the police who just had reacted to an anonymous gun shot report. The report was not supported by the direct neighbors who claim that they neither reported the shot nor heard nor saw anything suspicious. Neither could the policemen first on the scene smell any firearm discharge."

"And do you believe Tess Herbert's story?" Paul asked.

"The facts and statements are currently inconclusive. Facts are facts. Gun was in her house; money was in her house. And half a million British Pound are a lot to leave behind just to finger a person. Much simpler to buy an East-End skinhead and have him do the job for five hundred Pounds. There were no break-in tools with the body of Mr. Brady, so someone must have let him in."

"What about time of death?"

"The coroner placed death some time after midnight, about four hours. Again, inconclusive with the gunshot sound that was reported around 7:00."

"Fingerprints identified him as Mr. Christian Brady of Liverpool." Gordon glanced at Paul. "You don't happen to know the reason for the Mr. Schwartz identity charade, do you?"

Paul gave a grim smile. "Sorry, not up to me to reveal."

Gordon didn't like it, but played his part nonetheless.

"Any theories yet?" Paul asked as he scanned the room for anything unusual.

"None!"

"Come on, just between us, Superintendent."