Crime In New York; Ch. 1
folder
S through Z › Sleepy Hollow
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
6
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2,130
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2
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Currently Reading:
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Category:
S through Z › Sleepy Hollow
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
6
Views:
2,130
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Sleepy Hollow, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Ch. 2
A loud knock at the door awoke both Ichabod and Katrina from a sound sleep. Katrina lit a candle and looked blearily at the clock.
“Who on earth is calling on us at one in the morning?”
Ichabod sat up and rubbed his eyes with a sigh. “I expect it’s someone from the department.”
Katrina shook her head. “That scientific detective work of yours really is a double-edged sword. First no one would let you do it at all but since your success in Sleepy Hollow those other idiots on the force can’t go half a day without your help.”
“Come my dear. You exaggerate a little. Granted my skills are in greater demand than they used to be but...” There was another loud rap at the door. “Drat! Coming!” He hopped out of bed, struggling into some clothes on his way out of the bedroom and to the door. Katrina slipped on her bed jacket and followed him. He opened the door and in walked Chief Constable Erikson, a broad, burly man who reminded Katrina unpleasantly of her former fiancé.
“Sorry to disturb, Crane.” His tone suggested otherwise. “But there’s been a murder down by the docks that’s nothing less than bizarre.” Ichabod nodded and stepped back into the bedroom to finish dressing properly.
“A murder down by the docks?” Katrina blurted out. “What could possibly be so bizarre about that?! It’s a violent area. Really Constable Erikson, was it necessary to come and wake poor Ichabod up like this when he’d been at work since five last morning? He’s exhausted.”
“I say bizarre Mrs. Crane because the victim was a high society lady slain in a very ritualistic, quasi-religious manner. That doesn’t happen too often down by the docks even if it is a violent area. Besides, “ he cast a sardonic eye around the room, especially at the clothing laying haphazardly on the floor, “ I doubt Crane is all that exhausted given that he was able to very much enjoy your company.”
Katrina blushed furiously and looked at the floor,deciding that the Chief Constable must be very good at his job in a way. What chance did any criminal have against his interrogations if he could make a woman feel guilty about laying with her own husband?
Ichabod came back out of the bedroom with his coat and boots back on. He kissed Katrina tenderly and promised to be careful and get home as soon as he could. Katrina forced a smile onto her face. On top of everything else, Ichabod didn’t need to worry about her being upset.
The two men left the flat. Katrina went immediately to the kitchen and fixed herself a sleeping draught. It seemed heartless to try and go back to bed when Ichabod was being kept awake by this horrid case. But it wouldn’t do to have two sleep-deprived people in the house. If anything happened to Ichabod, Katrina wanted to be fit to take care of him.
Sitting up in bed she drank her own familiar concoction, lay down and fell asleep almost instantly.
***
Ichabod shivered and drew his coat a little tighter around him as he and the chief constable walked the last few feet down to the dock where the bizarre murder had occurred.
“I should have listened to mother and been a school teacher,” he thought with an edge of bitterness but his usual curiosity returned when he saw the murder victim laying on the dock surrounded by burnt down candles arranged in a very odd configuration. He took out a notebook to draw a rough sketch of it. He would go to the library later and look up what it was.
The victim herself was as Constable Erikson had described her as; young, slender and dressed in the absolute latest fashion. Ichabod looked at her a little doubtfully as he knelt down to get a better look. “And the victim was definitely killed here?”
“Of course, Crane. Your lesson about not moving bodies finally sank in.”
Ichabod nodded, putting on his specially designed glasses and peering down at the body. His nose wrinkled appraisingly. “Ether...well that answers how someone got her down here. Unless she was down here already and someone drugged her then.” He carefully lifted her hands which rested palms up on the ground and discovered scrapes along the backs. “No...it looks like she was drugged first and then dragged down here. Evidence of clotting shows these injuries were received when she was unconscious but not yet dead.” Ichabod took out another one of his instruments and used it to poke at the body’s limbs.
“What are you doing, Crane?”
“Seeing if the blood pooling pattern is in fact consistent with the idea the victim was killed here. It is. And I also believe she was killed...” He took out his specially designed thermometer and laid it against the lady’s throat. He checked the gage and did a quick calculation in his head, “About midnight.”
The Chief Constable rolled his eyes. “I already told you no one moved the body.”
“No, you said the police didn’t move her. That doesn’t mean the murderer did not.” He squinted at him through the glasses. “The only difference is that for the police to move a body is incredibly stupid. For the criminal to do so is quite smart. It makes it much harder to trace the body’s point of origin.” Constable Erikson nodded as if he were actually paying attention to what he had always called ‘Crane’s scientific gobbledygook.’
Ichabod turned back to the murder victim and examined the injury. The throat was cut from ear to ear, It was a thin, neat and precise incision. Ichabod decided that whoever did this was no amateur yet they had not taken any other precaution against the body being discovered.
“Which can only mean they wanted it discovered.” Ichabod patted the body down searching for anything that might identify the woman as something a little more specific than a wealthy socialite. There was nothing. She wasn’t even carrying a small coin purse. “Well that’s very odd.”
“What?”
“She has no identification.” Ichabod sat up on his haunches, took the glasses off and his notebook out. “It doesn’t make any sense. Why kill a high profile woman in this incredibly elaborate manner in an extremely odd location intending for someone to discover her and then not leave anything to identify her?” As he mused over this grisly puzzle, Ichabod wrote down everything he knew about the case so far in the notebook. “It’s as if two distinct crimes have been committed on the same woman.”
The Chief Constable sniffed pompously. “Crime’s an illogical thing often, Crane. Not always suited to the scientific approach.”
“Perhaps so sir.” Ichabod responded. “But science was still able to tell us some things with fairly good certainty that the woman was killed here and about an hour ago which I believe helps a lot. Besides which there is still much to do in the investigation. I’ve got to question some of the people who may have been around and find out who discovered the body.”
“That was me.” Constable Erikson said quickly. “I happened to be down here, checking on a new officer just assigned to this beat. He was very green and I wanted to make sure he could handle the job. Good thing I did too. The boy was in a right panic over this body. The macrabe nature of the crime was jarring to him.”
“So it was he who actually discovered the body?” Ichabod said. “I’ll need to question him.”
The chief constable gave a dubious shrug. “Well Crane you can try if you want but I don’t think you’ll get much out of him. That is, he only found the body after the fact.”
“Be that as it may I shall try.” Constable Erikson shook his head but led Ichabod to the young officer’s home.
***
“Well now Constable Jamison,” The chief constable addressed the young man briskly as he and Ichabod entered his home, “Constable Crane here would like to ask you a few questions about the body you found tonight.”
“Yes, sir.” Jamison said meekly and offered his two visitors a chair. He certainly was a young officer. Ichabod guessed he might be no more advanced in years than 16 though he probably lied about his age to get the job. He had straw colored hair, blue eyes and a very boyish face besides.
“Jamison,” said Ichabod in a much gentler tone than the head constable, “I’m told that it was you who discovered the body?”
“Yes sir.”
“Did you see anything unusual beforehand? Someone with a very grandly dressed young lady or candlelight? Or perhaps you heard something odd like chanting or singing?”
The boy shook his head. “No sir,not a thing sir.” He seemed very nervous but that was understandable especially if he’d just seen his first murder victim.
“Satisfied, Crane?”
Ichabod shook his head. “No. I never am unless I’ve learned something new about a case. But thank you anyway, Jamison.” He followed the chief constable out. Something about the situation bothered him but he could not say what.
“Who on earth is calling on us at one in the morning?”
Ichabod sat up and rubbed his eyes with a sigh. “I expect it’s someone from the department.”
Katrina shook her head. “That scientific detective work of yours really is a double-edged sword. First no one would let you do it at all but since your success in Sleepy Hollow those other idiots on the force can’t go half a day without your help.”
“Come my dear. You exaggerate a little. Granted my skills are in greater demand than they used to be but...” There was another loud rap at the door. “Drat! Coming!” He hopped out of bed, struggling into some clothes on his way out of the bedroom and to the door. Katrina slipped on her bed jacket and followed him. He opened the door and in walked Chief Constable Erikson, a broad, burly man who reminded Katrina unpleasantly of her former fiancé.
“Sorry to disturb, Crane.” His tone suggested otherwise. “But there’s been a murder down by the docks that’s nothing less than bizarre.” Ichabod nodded and stepped back into the bedroom to finish dressing properly.
“A murder down by the docks?” Katrina blurted out. “What could possibly be so bizarre about that?! It’s a violent area. Really Constable Erikson, was it necessary to come and wake poor Ichabod up like this when he’d been at work since five last morning? He’s exhausted.”
“I say bizarre Mrs. Crane because the victim was a high society lady slain in a very ritualistic, quasi-religious manner. That doesn’t happen too often down by the docks even if it is a violent area. Besides, “ he cast a sardonic eye around the room, especially at the clothing laying haphazardly on the floor, “ I doubt Crane is all that exhausted given that he was able to very much enjoy your company.”
Katrina blushed furiously and looked at the floor,deciding that the Chief Constable must be very good at his job in a way. What chance did any criminal have against his interrogations if he could make a woman feel guilty about laying with her own husband?
Ichabod came back out of the bedroom with his coat and boots back on. He kissed Katrina tenderly and promised to be careful and get home as soon as he could. Katrina forced a smile onto her face. On top of everything else, Ichabod didn’t need to worry about her being upset.
The two men left the flat. Katrina went immediately to the kitchen and fixed herself a sleeping draught. It seemed heartless to try and go back to bed when Ichabod was being kept awake by this horrid case. But it wouldn’t do to have two sleep-deprived people in the house. If anything happened to Ichabod, Katrina wanted to be fit to take care of him.
Sitting up in bed she drank her own familiar concoction, lay down and fell asleep almost instantly.
***
Ichabod shivered and drew his coat a little tighter around him as he and the chief constable walked the last few feet down to the dock where the bizarre murder had occurred.
“I should have listened to mother and been a school teacher,” he thought with an edge of bitterness but his usual curiosity returned when he saw the murder victim laying on the dock surrounded by burnt down candles arranged in a very odd configuration. He took out a notebook to draw a rough sketch of it. He would go to the library later and look up what it was.
The victim herself was as Constable Erikson had described her as; young, slender and dressed in the absolute latest fashion. Ichabod looked at her a little doubtfully as he knelt down to get a better look. “And the victim was definitely killed here?”
“Of course, Crane. Your lesson about not moving bodies finally sank in.”
Ichabod nodded, putting on his specially designed glasses and peering down at the body. His nose wrinkled appraisingly. “Ether...well that answers how someone got her down here. Unless she was down here already and someone drugged her then.” He carefully lifted her hands which rested palms up on the ground and discovered scrapes along the backs. “No...it looks like she was drugged first and then dragged down here. Evidence of clotting shows these injuries were received when she was unconscious but not yet dead.” Ichabod took out another one of his instruments and used it to poke at the body’s limbs.
“What are you doing, Crane?”
“Seeing if the blood pooling pattern is in fact consistent with the idea the victim was killed here. It is. And I also believe she was killed...” He took out his specially designed thermometer and laid it against the lady’s throat. He checked the gage and did a quick calculation in his head, “About midnight.”
The Chief Constable rolled his eyes. “I already told you no one moved the body.”
“No, you said the police didn’t move her. That doesn’t mean the murderer did not.” He squinted at him through the glasses. “The only difference is that for the police to move a body is incredibly stupid. For the criminal to do so is quite smart. It makes it much harder to trace the body’s point of origin.” Constable Erikson nodded as if he were actually paying attention to what he had always called ‘Crane’s scientific gobbledygook.’
Ichabod turned back to the murder victim and examined the injury. The throat was cut from ear to ear, It was a thin, neat and precise incision. Ichabod decided that whoever did this was no amateur yet they had not taken any other precaution against the body being discovered.
“Which can only mean they wanted it discovered.” Ichabod patted the body down searching for anything that might identify the woman as something a little more specific than a wealthy socialite. There was nothing. She wasn’t even carrying a small coin purse. “Well that’s very odd.”
“What?”
“She has no identification.” Ichabod sat up on his haunches, took the glasses off and his notebook out. “It doesn’t make any sense. Why kill a high profile woman in this incredibly elaborate manner in an extremely odd location intending for someone to discover her and then not leave anything to identify her?” As he mused over this grisly puzzle, Ichabod wrote down everything he knew about the case so far in the notebook. “It’s as if two distinct crimes have been committed on the same woman.”
The Chief Constable sniffed pompously. “Crime’s an illogical thing often, Crane. Not always suited to the scientific approach.”
“Perhaps so sir.” Ichabod responded. “But science was still able to tell us some things with fairly good certainty that the woman was killed here and about an hour ago which I believe helps a lot. Besides which there is still much to do in the investigation. I’ve got to question some of the people who may have been around and find out who discovered the body.”
“That was me.” Constable Erikson said quickly. “I happened to be down here, checking on a new officer just assigned to this beat. He was very green and I wanted to make sure he could handle the job. Good thing I did too. The boy was in a right panic over this body. The macrabe nature of the crime was jarring to him.”
“So it was he who actually discovered the body?” Ichabod said. “I’ll need to question him.”
The chief constable gave a dubious shrug. “Well Crane you can try if you want but I don’t think you’ll get much out of him. That is, he only found the body after the fact.”
“Be that as it may I shall try.” Constable Erikson shook his head but led Ichabod to the young officer’s home.
***
“Well now Constable Jamison,” The chief constable addressed the young man briskly as he and Ichabod entered his home, “Constable Crane here would like to ask you a few questions about the body you found tonight.”
“Yes, sir.” Jamison said meekly and offered his two visitors a chair. He certainly was a young officer. Ichabod guessed he might be no more advanced in years than 16 though he probably lied about his age to get the job. He had straw colored hair, blue eyes and a very boyish face besides.
“Jamison,” said Ichabod in a much gentler tone than the head constable, “I’m told that it was you who discovered the body?”
“Yes sir.”
“Did you see anything unusual beforehand? Someone with a very grandly dressed young lady or candlelight? Or perhaps you heard something odd like chanting or singing?”
The boy shook his head. “No sir,not a thing sir.” He seemed very nervous but that was understandable especially if he’d just seen his first murder victim.
“Satisfied, Crane?”
Ichabod shook his head. “No. I never am unless I’ve learned something new about a case. But thank you anyway, Jamison.” He followed the chief constable out. Something about the situation bothered him but he could not say what.