story

 

Diamond in the Rough

A.A. King

 

  

 

 

 

Chapter One

 

The phone rang shrilly, cutting through the night like a hot knife through butter.  Just hours before, Brian Russell had been wasting away another night watching television and drinking whiskey.  Most nights were spent like this for the thirty six year old detective.  He was married to his work and had no time for the finer things in life. 

What the fuck? He complained to no one in particular.  Many a good night’s sleep had been interrupted by his career.

Pushing the covers roughly from his body, he threw his legs over the side of the bed and snatched the ringing phone from its cradle, “Russell.”  He growled into the receiver.

“I will be there in thirty…tape off the scene and don’t let anyone in.” He ordered.

Brian rubbed his eyes and blinked furiously, trying to clear the feeling that they were full of sand.  He threw on his clothes and grabbed a soda out of the fridge before leaving for the crime scene. 

The night air was cool and Brian rolled down both windows of his truck and enjoyed the cool air on his skin.  It helped to wake up the still sleepy detective.  Coffee was what he really needed but he knew that it would be a while before he could get a cup. 

            The scene was littered with people in uniforms walking around trying to look busy.  The media had gathered outside the doors of the stately office complex and Brian had to push his way past them to enter the building.  Microphones were thrust into his face as reporters shouted out questions that he didn’t yet know the answers to.  Brian forced his way through the crowd and walked through the double door as he flashed his badge to the officer guarding the entrance.     “Keep them out!” He demanded as he pointed backward with his thumb.  There was no question that the young rookie knew what he was talking about and nodded as he squared his shoulders toward the entrance.

              “Jones, tell me what we have here.” Brian barked at the sergeant standing behind the yellow tape.

A white male in his late sixties who appeared to be working late.  There does not seem to be much evidence around here but the scene is all yours.  I am happy to not have to babysit the tape anymore.” 

              “Thanks Jones.  Can you see if you can find me a cup of coffee around here anywhere?”

              Russell ducked under the tape and walked through the door of the office.  On the door was a name tag for Charles Wingate. 

              Goddamn, this is going to be huge, Brian thought to himself.  Charles Wingate was the owner and patriarch of Wingate Drilling which happened to be one of the largest independent drilling companies in the South.  He was a millionaire several times over and that tended to complicate things. 

              Brian Russell’s brows furrowed together as he contemplated what lay ahead of him.  Any murder brought upheaval into the lives of the detectives investigating them, but the murder of someone wealthy added a whole different twist on an already difficult situation.  Everyone who knew the victim became a suspect because everyone had a common motive; money.

              “Jones, where’s my coffee?” Brian called out.  The sergeant walked briskly toward the detective with a Styrofoam cup in his hand.  Brian reached for it as steam billowed from the top of the cup.  Putting it to his lips, he took a sip and quickly pulled the cup from his lips.  It had burned him but was worth it considering how badly he needed the hot liquid. 

              “Have you found anything of use so far?” Sergeant Jones questioned.

              “I have not walked past the door yet.  The name on the entry caught my attention and I knew that this wasn’t going to be cut and dried.  We are going to need a photographer and finger print specialist in here ASAP.  This is going to be huge and we need to make sure that all of our I’s are dotted and our T’s are crossed.”

              “I can get a print specialist in here now and I will get my camera and be with you in a minute.”

              “Sounds good Jones.  Let’s get cracking so we can get this scene wrapped up before employees start coming in for work.”

              After finishing his cup of coffee, Brian walked into the office.  Aside from the desk, everything in the office looked pristine.  Nothing seemed out of place.  The desk was a different story.  A silver haired man lay with his head on it and a pool of blood soaking the papers underneath.  The desk looked to be very expensive.  Made of mahogany, it had ornate carvings running the length of the legs.  Blood had soaked them, but Brian could tell that they were very detailed.  Sergeant Jones followed behind him, snapping photographs when Brian pointed out something of interest.  The filing cabinet was opened and much of its contents spilled onto the ground.  A coffee cup was on the desk along with a crystal tumbler of brown liquid.

              “Where is the finger print technician?”  Brian said as he turned to Jones.

              “I am right here.” Chirped a mousy haired woman who looked to be no more than twenty.

              How did she get a job here?  She is just a kid!  She appeared to be far too excited to be at a murder scene for the detectives taste but he could not control who the lab sent over.

              “Please lift prints from the filing cabinet first and then try to pull some from the crystal tumbler.  Also, Jones, please make sure that the contents of the coffee pot, the cub and the tumbler to the lab for testing.”

              After walking through the remainder of the office building, Brian decided that the scene was contained to the office of Charles Wingate.  He waited until the coroner removed the body and ordered the scene to be cleaned up.  The employees would be getting there in the next two hours and Detective Brian Russell wanted to be prepared for their arrival.