A Death in the Family

Chapter 8

The man currently in the police interrogation room looked bored, he even raised his grubby tattooed hand to stifle a yawn.

When Sgt. Douglas entered the room the man looked nonplussed.

"What is it this time, Sarge?"

"Give me any more lip and I may change my mind about extending your stint in lockup." Douglas replied dryly.

"So what you haul me in for?" The man asked indignantly.

"Well Davey, that's on the suspicion of murder." Douglas replied in his same even tone.

Surprise did little to change Davey's sallow face and slack expression. He put one in mind of a hound dog with its droopy eyes and jowls and his stained sweatshirt and faded jeans did little to enhance his appearance.

"Murder? I haven't killed nobody!"

"Davey, that's what your stepbrother said. Well I got a body and no idea how it ended up in the river. I guarantee you Davey she didn't just jump."

"So you think." Davey grumbled.

"Spinelli said you were on the side of town and you work the clubs down this way and he was on the other side of town when the murder occurred."

"So he says." Davey mumbled shifting in his chair rubbing his nose and shaking his stringy nondescript hair out of his face. "So he pins the murder on me when he probably did it."

"Possibly..." The sergeant mused.

The sergeant repeated the process of showing the pictures of Lara Dooley to the suspect, but Davey shook his head in bemusement.

"I ain't seen her before, and I certainly didn't kill her. Spinelli is probably trying to get back at me with a bad batch I sold him a few weeks back."

Douglas grunted and glanced at Cumberbatch who raised his eyebrows. After several more minutes they had no choice but to let Davey go.

Afterwards, Douglas sighed.

"Seems like he's telling the truth and we had nothing on him." Cumberbatch commented.

"We get them both that here and they'll spend half our time pointing the finger at the other." Douglas muttered crossly. "I say we're missing something tackle this from a different angle and find something else that will put our two pieces together."

"Do you want me to go back to the park, sir?" Cumberbatch asked.

"No..." Douglas answered, "not yet. Get a lineup out to Fern Solomon see if she remembers anything else and go back over that drawing... Maybe there's something Lara drew that we missed."

Richard Solomon almost expected the firm knock on the front door and as he expected there was a cop, looking businesslike but apologetic on the other side.

"Sorry to disturb you sir, but I'm wondering if I can your wife."

Richard nodded and led the way to the bedroom where Fern was sitting up in bed.

Fern looked up.

"Richard? Officer? What's going on?"

"We have a photo lineup for you, ma'am. Maybe you can pick out the man you saw your neighbor drawing?"

Leaning back on her pillows for an accepted the tablet the officer handed her. On the tablet were several photographs, slowly, she scrolled through them.

She stopped at the sixth photo and pointed.

"Him. I'm sure of it."

"Honey, are you sure?" Her husband asked, he looked anxious.

"Make sure you look through them thoroughly and take your time." The officer instructed.

Fern did as she was told and looked through the rest of the photos but she came back to the one that had caught her eye in the first place.

"Six, I'm pretty sure though 10 looked similar."

The officer nodded and took tablet from her.

"That's all I need ma'am, thank you. Anything else we'll be in touch."

Several hours later Douglas and Cumberbatch were going over the results of Fern Solomon's photo lineup.

"Well she was pretty sure about Spinelli, hat or no hat, though she indicated on Davey for a second or two."

Cumberbatch grunted.

"Maybe because they look alike. Shame we can't get her in for an in person lineup."

Douglas sighed.

Time to get Spinelli back in here, even if he is mad as a wet cat. I say we take another crack at him and none of this fluffy stuff."

"The drawing?" Cumberbatch questioned.

"Give it another gander." Douglas instructed, "particularly the area around the bridge where we think the crime occurred."

Cumberbatch stood.

"Right then, and I'm gonna need more coffee if I'm going to be staring at that drawing all night trying to solve this thing."

His coffee in his elbow, Detective Cumberbatch sat down in one of the conference rooms and looked at the suspect board for the case. In front of him was Lara Dooley's drawing and as corny as it was he was going over it with a magnifying glass even though he knew his partner had been joking. (At least, that was what he hoped). Studying the drawing he grumbled into his faded red bristled mustache. Putting the pieces together on a case was one of the things he loved about the job but sometimes it gave him a headache.

He went over the drawing a piece at a time. The scene would've been jovial if it hadn't been for the part with the woman (presumably Lara) falling off the bridge. Everything about it seemed normal, people going for their lunchtime stroll, mothers amusing their children and babies in strollers, everyone talking and laughing.

There was a man walking his overweight spaniel, Lara had even drawn the sign with the garbage can that reminded park goers to dispose of their animal's waste.

Then Cumberbatch came to the part of the drawing that had been puzzling him and Douglas for weeks; the falling figure and the man that was supposedly her killer.

Cumberbatch already knew about the detail of the spilled purse, that was obvious, but then he looked over the bored looking figure, apparently Spinelli. At first he thought the object in the man's hand was a cigarette, but it turned out it was a broken pencil. Looking further, he realized there were several pencils around the man and not just the ones that had been scattered from Lara's purse. Then Cumberbatch noticed the second bag which had also been spilled in the apparent struggle... There were apparently more art supplies.

Cumberbatch tapped his chin, a theory beginning to form in his mind. Had anyone bothered to look for these items that had been with Lara before she had been thrown into the river?

He scribbled a few more questions down on a piece of paper. It was rare anyone use paper and pencil for solving a case these days, but it helped Cumberbatch think.

He had to find the bag that Lara had been carrying that day as well as the sketchbook with the drawing of her apparent killer. According to evidence, her purse had been recovered and had since been returned to her family with the rest of her things... He wasn't sure. He made a note to ask Douglas.

Draining the rest of his coffee he finally stood up. Well Cumberbatch couldn't say he hadn't earned his keep today. He glanced at the clock, it was pushing 11. It was time to go home, though he couldn't guarantee he would sleep at all.