March, 2016. Time of investigation; 6pm.
The boys in blue were already calling this case cold, it hadn't even been 48 hours. Cold Case Cain wasn't called in, he'd heard it on the 2-way and decided to show up anyway. With the chemical stink in the air it was clear there'd been a professional mob hit clean-up. Couldn't clean everything up, though. Cain's eyes saw what others didn't, the other keepers of the law saw it as a sixth sense, but he was just perceptive of things they were ignorant to. There were always tells, always hints of what's gone down.
He ducked down, lifting his right arm up to snag the police line with his elbow and push it up, walking underneath the plastic tape. He sniffed the air and it smelled like ammonia, they'd power-washed it with an ammonia solution to break up the blood. Smart.
He pulled out his handheld camera and took a picture.
Immediately he noticed a bullet hole in the spray-painted brick wall, he walked over and slipped his rubber gloves on. Sticking his finger into the hole, he dug out the bullet. The spray-paint had concealed it, but the angle was weird. He stepped back and drew a mental line. It was .44, the power should have been sufficient to blow clean through the wall. He also would have had to fire it at a downward angle from about midsection height, perhaps deflected? The power dropping would make sense if it hit something and deflected downwards, but what a strange bullet hole. He pulled out a bag of baby powder and dusted it on the bullet just in case, but he knew there'd be no fingerprints. It was a formality to explore every option. Afterwards he'd give it to the forensic boys, see if they could find what gun it was fired from. The deflection into relatively soft brick would bear fruit, hopefully.
He stood up and went to go dust his knees off, but he paused and looked at the bullet again. There was something stuck to it, like it got caught as the bullet fired. It looked like fibers of some kind. Lifting the bullet to his face he looked close at it and squinted. That was something he'd note. He slipped the bullet into a plastic bag he pulled from his coat and pulled a marker out, taking the cap off with his teeth. He wrote on the side;
Analyze fibers for composition.Pocketing the baggie, he turned his attention to the cracked concrete. Cleaned but not repaired, there was a clear blast radius in the center of the alleyway. Low yield explosive of some sort, but the blast radius was interrupted. Probably whatever had deflected the bullet had also blocked the blast of whatever exploded here. Curious, about five meters of webbing in the concrete spanned the entire alleyway and yet there was still more to look at. He knelt down and looked from the point of the explosion to the entry of the alleyway there was a clear mark of what appeared to be electrical scoring. Touching the burned ground, he felt the flakes of glass that had formed from dust and sand that was instantly liquefied by what appeared to be a gigantic electrical discharge. Just with his eyes alone he could span the distance to be nearly half the alleyway's length. "What on Earth happened here?"
His handheld camera clicked.
At the end of the discharge there was another mark of what appeared to be a particularly low yield explosive, and then...
The shutter of his camera clicked.
An impact crater? This puzzle's pieces weren't adding up, he walked over to the point that looked like someone had taken an anvil and dropped it from the roof of the alley overhead. It was the shape of a foot, but it was insane to presume that a human being had done this. It had to be the anvil theory, was he on the case of a Looney Tune? Incredulously he looked up, scanning the walls and his eyes widened.
His handheld camera clicked again.
More electrical scoring leading up the wall to somewhere above his head. "Hell on Earth. This makes no sense."
Again his camera clicked.
Turning to look at the opposite wall he saw several other bullet holes, lower caliber. These had been picked clean, no one could have missed the pattern of fire across the wall itself. Then he turned his attention to his feet, where the ground had clearly been cleaned. There must have been blood here, possibly the perpetrator's own. There was one last pattern of electrical scoring and then the evidence ran dry. Clearly some kind of scuffle, possibly some kind of electrical weapon. There was very clearly some incident of midair electrical discharge as well, and something very forceful had hit the ground. Possibly three or more, but one had died. He sighed and concluded his investigation, patting his knees clean.
He pulled out a notebook and began to write.
A woman, approximate age twenty five to thirty. Slim build, small frame. Maybe she'd had a bodyguard of some sort, someone heavily armored. Could explain the deflected bullets. What kind of connections did she have to have a bodyguard that had some sort of electrical weapon that could fire lightning bolts? Real shame, she had pretty eyes. Two bullets, one in the chest, one in the head.
He paused as he wrote, pulling out the coroner's report and laying it on top of his notebook. The angle of the shots indicated they had been upwards, and there was clear bruising of an impact with the ground from a height.
He began writing again.
Perhaps she'd been the one on the roof, maybe she dropped something heavy in an attempt to stop the killer from attacking whoever this heavily armored, electricity wielding weirdo was. The killer must have double tapped her and she must have fallen from the roof, it was the only explanation that made any sense. If there were bloodstains I could do more with the info given, otherwise I can only assume there's three parties involved and at least one is still alive for certain, and the other party is someone with access to advanced technology and heavy armor.
Closing the notepad, he pulled his collar up to his ears and went back to his car. There was nothing more about this scene that could be figured out, it was time to go home and make an official report.
@Doc Doctor
