2Chapter Three: Detective Gerard
Gerard sat at the diner, waiting for his food to arrive, glancing at his watch every few seconds. Impatiently, he tapped his finger on the glossy surface of the bar. He could think of better uses for his time rather than waiting to eat.
It had been an hour or so since mass let out. He bid his farewells and left with a glance and sigh at Dominica, who had been conversing with Mrs. Prudence. He couldn't get his mind off of Dominica. Such a sweet little girl ,and yet that was the only pleasant thought of her he had in his mind. He wished for others ,but he couldn't take his attention off the dark ugly bruises that persistently decorated her form.
He began contemplating whether or not they were the same bruises each time. But every Sunday he found more. Though they were all faded beyond any ones recognition, he ways saw them through her attempts to cover them up.
It wasn't just the marks on her face that caught his eye. When she leaned forward to kneel down and pray upon the pews, her shirt rode up and bruises on her lower back were clearly visible.
He wished he could do something for her but knew that he couldn't press any charges without a word from her hinting on abuse. He could report it but what good would it do if she wouldn't talk. In the year that he had known her, she had not once shown signs of pain or sadness. Her smile never left her angelic face, and not a hair was misplaced in her appearance.
He heard a soft muttering sound but didn't acknowledge it, for he was to deep in thought.
"SIR!" the waitress said loudly, shaking his arm. If there was such things as thought bubbles, Gerard's would have burst. He noticed a hot plate of eggs, bacon and toast in front of him, the steam bringing the delicious aromas to his nose. He looked up and saw the waitress looking at him in a concerned manor.
"Are you alright, hun?" she asked, her arms crossed over her chest.
"I'm fine thanks. I was just thinking." he said with a smile.
"Well alright. You tell me if you need anything else, alright. Sugar?" she said as she poured him a cup of coffee. It took him a second to realize she was asking him if he wanted sugar, not calling him it.
"Yes." he said and then, "Thank you." when she set the mug down in front of him. He looked down into the brown liquid, swirling it around some, and took a drink.
As he ate he sank back into his thoughts. Dominica. He remembered the first time he met her. It had been raining that Sunday morning, when she came into the small church in the middle of the sermon. She didn't say anything and Father Viktor had payed her no mind except for a quick glance at the door when it squeaked open. She stood there for a minute looking around and then swiftly walked to the front of the room and sat next to him. He didn't say anything and tried not to stare at her.
"Hello." she said cheerfully, after the service was over, "I'm Dominica."
He was abit taken aback at her sudden outburst, but he responded, "Good morning, I'm Gerard."
"Nice to meet you." she said with a bright smile, "I have to go now." and with that she got up and walked out the doors.
The next Sunday she sat next to someone else and introduced herself. She did the same thing every Sunday with a different person. After she was acquainted with everyone she decided to sit next to him again.
"Where are your parents?" he asked one day, before she left.
"At home." she said, that smile never leaving her lips.
Then, after having his fork hit an empty plate a few times, he snapped out of his thoughts. He had eaten all his food and drank all his coffee. He was about to ask for more when his pager started going off. He took it out of his pocket with a sigh and looked at it. It was his boss.
He called the waitress for the check, paid it, left a tip, and left with the jingle of the bells on the door.
"Detective Gerard, your late." a short haired brunette woman, his boss, said as he came into her office.
"Yea sorry about that, I stopped for breakfast." he said as, rubbing the back of his head as he sat down in the blue velvet chair in front of her oak desk.
"Yes ,well, next time eat faster. We've got a new case for you. A murder." she said as she slid a manila folder toward him, "Here's what we've found out so far, along with the address so you can get your ass over there pronto." He could tell she was in an extremely good mood today, otherwise there would of been more cussing and insults. On a regular day she was a regular tight assed bitch.
"Yes ,mam." he said as he took the folder and walked out without a second glance. He really hated that woman. Sylivia Blake. Top of the class in highscool. She was on the drill team and head of student council. He hated her then and was glad to get away from her. Then they wound up going to the same collage. Now she was his fucking boss. How the hell had he offended god to deserve this.
He showed his badge to the man behind the caution tape and he wordlessly let him pass. He walked into the small house and headed directly to the basement. He had already read the report on his way to the scene and knew the gist of it.
Mr. Frank had come home from work expecting dinner and his wife to be at the dining table. When he got home, dinner was burning in the oven. Once he took it out and cleared the smoke he went in search for his wife. He didn't find her, but he did find blood on the floor in the dining room,along with the teaset and a small pocket bible on the table, one of the chairs across the room on it's side, and a dent in the wall behind it. There was blood on the top of the back of the chair. All the blood trailed out of the room and into the basement.
In the basement, lights had been set up and the room was lit quite nicely. Only the men who set up the lights had been down there, so he was the first to investigate the scene. He avoided stepping on the blood on his way down the stairs and didn't touch the hand railing. He followed the trail of blood which led to the left side of the furnace. In the puddle he discovered a silver cross necklace. From the puddle of blood was another trail leading to the door of the furnace.
He pulled some gloves out of his pockets and snapped them on. Slowly, he opened the door. He closed it about ten times faster then he opened it. Inside he discovered a corpse which was burnt beyond recognition. . The smell of charred flesh was indescribable.
On his way out of the house he passed the Coroner, "You're gonna have to wait till after the team is done, for this one." he said without emotion.
Later that day, after the team had done there job, he was in his office looking over the photographs and evidence from the scene and the analysis of the body. It was his job to figure out what had happened. He thought that the Mrs. must of been home making dinner when some one came over. It must of been someone she knew or someone who didn't seem threatening, because she let them in and made some tea. Once the Mrs. felt comfortable the murderer must of stabbed her. She grabbed the wound on her side, saw the blood, and grabbed the chair to throw it at the murderer. After throwing the chair she ran down stairs and hid of the left side of the furnace which could not be seen from the stairs. The Mrs. must of took her necklace off to pray, her husband said she was very religious, and the murderer heard her. She was the stabbed in the jugular and stuffed in the furnace.
He looked over all of the photos and evidence many times looking for things he may have left out but he was sure he got the story right. Now it was all up to forensics to find the killer.