~Chapter 5: A Loud Statement~

We sat on the floor James’s office because the chairs were stacked with papers. There wasn’t much to James’s office. It was just a few filing cabinets, a stack of paper on his metal desk, dozens of cardboard boxes of paper lined up against the wall, and a ceiling fan. There weren’t any pictures of traces of him personalizing his workplace, nor did James ever leave the horizontal blinds open to let in light. James was up to his waist in papers and forms from the DSS and the Domestic Terrorism Division. Dan and I, the good Samaritans we truly were, tried our best to help him.

However, we had another use in this office. The president’s daughter received quite a few tasteful death threats. It was hard to tell if this were a Domestic Terrorism case or a Homicide case in that regard. However, a Secret Service agent--a state employee--was found dead at the president’s house; that alone was Homicide. James had passed this responsibility down to Dan, but Dan had passed it back to James. On the inside, James wanted to credit for this. He may have complained about other responsibilities he had, but the lust for power in his eyes was unmistakable

James moved an empty cardboard box closer to him with his foot. He swept a chair-full of papers into it and kicked it to the other side and did sis best effort to tidy up--a foreseeable a failure. “If I may ask, is anyone hungry?”

“I might be.” Dan leaned over and grabbed the garbage bin. He tied up the bag and tossed it near the door. “I’m thinking hamburgers. What about you, Mike? C’mon, Mike, pick something!”

I replied, “Mud.”

Dan looked at James. “Hamburger it is!”

“If I may ask, don’t you ever get tired of those?” James handed me a folder. “Oh, yeah, almost forgot! This should be a challenge for you, Michael.”

I took the folder with a forced smile. “You’re so kind.”

“That’s me. Special Agent So Kind.”

“You have a sense of humor, too.”

“Thank you very much.”

“That wasn’t a compliment.”

“Oh.” He stared at the floor and rubbed his chin. “I see.”

Harold W. Forbes followed in his father’s political footsteps. He became president through a minor technicality on his predecessor’s part, that being his predecessor died. He married Anna Forbes thirty years ago when they were fresh out of college. Together, they had three children--two daughters and a son. Forbes wasn’t the best politician, but he was a pretty decent person--or at least acted like a concerned human being that could keep promises. He had three mayoral terms under his belt, a seat in the Senate for seven years, and has, so far, logged one and a half presidential terms.

Dan and I left the building and got into his yellow car. He had the only bright-colored car in this entire parking lot. He took us to the Forbeses’ house where all of the houses in this neighborhood were structurally the same. What set the Forbeses’ home from the others was the black van marked “DSI: Forensics and Computer Science”. Dan was unable to accompany me inside because he had a pregnant wife to take care of. He drove off, leaving me all alone. I hated going into a crime scene all alone. I walked up the walkway and wished for Dan’s company.

It was just a simple two-story home painted white on the outside with a neatly manicured lawn. Winter withered the gardens, and the picket fence needed another coat of paint. I stood under the overhang, knocked, and waited for a reply.

Did James give me the right address? I was kind of expecting the president and his family to live in something more extravagant. I couldn’t believe the most important man in the state lived here.

The red door opened, revealing a tall woman with long brown hair and bright dark brown eyes that we puffy. Her face, upon a closer look, was moist from tears.

I showed her my badge. “Why am I here?”

Katherine Forbes shrugged. “It’s your job?”

“Oh, yeah.”

She laughed. “You’re pretty funny for a DSI guy.”

“Or maybe you have a skewed sense of humor.”

Again, Katherine laughed. She closed the door behind me and led the way. It was average on the inside, too. The only thing that stood out was a glass cabinet in the corner of the living room, filled with strange knickknacks. There was the standard couch, TV, armchair, and coffee table. Family photos littered the gold walls on the top of the oak TV stand. I took off my shoes, left her in the living room, and walked all over the house. I checked every room, closet, and even the attic and found nothing of interest. Right off the bat, this didn’t seem like a burglary. Every door and window I checked wasn’t tampered with, and nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary.

There were three bedrooms. One was obviously Katherine’s; a pile of college-level textbooks were piled at the foot of the bed. One of the other rooms was a dark blue room with videogames and sports equipment scattered about. The last bedroom had white walls and a single bookcase filled with legal references. I went back downstairs and put my shoes back on. Katherine, who was waiting patiently for me, beckoned for me from the kitchen. She offered me something to drink before opening the backdoor.

As we headed down the steep steps, I grabbed her by the wrist when she almost tripped over the hose running along the bottom step. “Be careful.”

She used me to regain her balance. “Thanks.”

Agents from the Forensics and Computer Science Division were standing by on the other side of the yard near a wooden shed. I approached them and received details on what evidence they had collected thus far. They dusted for prints, looked for nonexistent hairs and fibers, and took blood samples. They had ran through standard procedures twice and were now waiting for my take on this.

So I got to work. Bloody shards of glass from the round table were scattered all over the cement patio. He was lying face down, a bullet wound from his temple spewing blood and shards of glass protruding from his face. I squeezed his biceps; rigor mortis wasn’t setting in yet. I checked his pockets and found his wallet and Secret Service ID. Raymond P. Garret looked too young to die. On the wall of the house was a picture of two snakes biting on each other’s ends drawn in blood.

I took a walk around the entire backyard. It was just grass and dirt, but it didn’t seem like there were any footprints to be found. A neat pile of cigarette butts, located on the side of the house, indicated the obvious nervous guy waiting for his chance. This could have been a burglary that was thwarted due to Garret, but I doubted that. I took a quick look in the shed. There wasn’t anything of interest inside, but I was taught by my father to rule nothing out. The backdoor wasn’t tampered with, and none of the windows were forced open. Just from the backyard, it didn’t look like burglary.

I walked up to Katherine. “Nothing was stolen from inside, right?”

“I don’t think so. I don’t know about my parents’ room because we’re not allowed in there, but their door was closed and locked when I checked. Still is, actually.”

I scratched the back of my head.

This was a prime example of a mixed crime scene. The killer was in complete control as evidenced by the bullet, yet there were certain things that were spontaneous as evidenced by the broken glass. The latter was a little excessive for a killer with a clear goal in his mind. I doubted this was psychologically motivated; it wasn’t for a turn-on or for fun either. I doubted even more if it was because Raymond Garret fit a certain demographic. This was more personal leaning more towards that clichéd revenge motive given the aggression.

I asked, “You were the first one to find him, right?”

“Uh-huh, around noon today. My mom is with my dad on some trip outside the country. Apparently, it’s a strong political strategy to do those things with your wife. My little brother was invited to a sleepover last night at a friend’s place and won’t be back until later tonight. My little sister works for my uncle, so she’s been gone all day.”

“Where were you before this?”

“I was at school. I just finished my last class of the day and was heading over to the Playhouse Theater on the other side of the city. But I needed my script from my room. I noticed that Mr. Garret wasn’t in the driveway as usual, so I decided to look for him. He’s a nice and responsible guy, and I was very worried. It’s unlike him to abandon his post, you know. I noticed the backdoor was opened. I thought maybe he was in the backyard for whatever reasons.”

“Did you notice anything suspicious or an unfamiliar car or person around when you came home?”

“Can’t say I have. I’m sorry, but I wasn’t really paying attention.”

“You’ve been getting death threats, right?”

“And kidnapping threats, too,” she added, a little too cheerfully. “I wouldn’t take any of them too seriously. I think they’re all just talk and no bite. Besides, there are people like you who are here to help me if it does happen. It’s mostly all political stuff that involves my father’s policies, so I can’t really see how kidnapping me would make any sense.” Her naivety was a little worrisome.

“All right. Thank you for your cooperation.” I smiled.

She returned the smile. “No, thank you for coming out here. But I suppose there’s no way you won’t put extra protection on us, huh?”

“It can’t be helped. You’re important by relation to a very important man.”

“Oh, I figured you would say that.”

I patted her on the head. “If anything comes up, you get a new threat, someone looks at you the wrong way, or whatever the hell happens and you think I should know, call me; then tell your parents.”

“Okay!”

I called Wendy Newburgh, an agent for the Forensics and Computer Science Division, and asked for everything on Raymond Garret. After she said she would, I hung up and tried to think. I went back to the body and lifted up his sleeves. There weren’t any defensive wounds.

He must have known his killer, who smashed Garret’s head through the glass and then shot him. I wasn’t Dan, but I had a feeling this struggle was somehow made personal. The excessive violence wouldn’t have any other logical explanation.

Katherine exclaimed, “Bobby, what are you doing back so early?”

An eleven-year-old walked down the steep steps. His blond hair was pretty long for a boy, and he had the same round dark brown eyes as his older sister. He ran and hugged Katherine. “I heard that Mr. Garret was killed! I thought you might have been hurt or something.”

Katherine moved her brother away from the blood. “Aw, that’s so cute. Thank you so much for worrying about me and Mr. Garret.”

Bobby looked at me. “Can I talk to him?”

She looked at me, too. “Agent Langley? Why?”

“Uh, I just want to. I might want to go into the DSI when I get older.”

“But he has important work to do.”

He walked up to me anyway. “Mr. Mitchin told me a lot about you, so I promised him I would help you if I can. I’m Lyn’s Valkyrie, Bobby Forbes. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

I scratched the back of my head. “You don’t have to go that far.”

“Yeah, but a Valkyrie is a Valkyrie. If there’s no one else around but a little kid, that’s better than nothing.”

“I suppose so, but let’s try to keep little kids out of this mess.” I grinned. “Okay?”

“If fate allows it.” He ran to his sister and gave her one more hug. Then he went inside.

It was certainly a small world. First Ron Richter, then this mess. Add Bobby Forbes being a Valkyrie to it, and it all really made me wonder.

The Forensics and Computer Science nerds took the body away. I left through the gate on the side of the house. Out front supervising the nerds was the deputy commander of the division, Stan Carter, who never seemed to like me. He fixed his brown hair and then glared at me with those light blue eyes. I approached him, and the news vans arrived and neighbors came out of their houses for the excitement. When I saw Dan’s car pull up, I smiled.