Crime In New York; Ch. 1
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S through Z › Sleepy Hollow
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
6
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Currently Reading:
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Category:
S through Z › Sleepy Hollow
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
6
Views:
2,134
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.4
“I’m very sorry, Constable Crane but I’m afraid I can’t help you.” Colonel Wood said . “I’ve been over almost every inch of God’s earth and sat round more than my share of heathen camp fires but I’ve never seen a symbol like that. “ He started to hand the notebook back to Ichabod but then stopped. “However if you’ve no objections I could sketch out the image myself and send it round to our branches in London. Those fellows have been exploring longer than us.”
“Thank you, sir. That would be very helpful.” Ichabod addressed the sharp, fit older gentleman behind the mahogany desk. Colonel Wood nodded and drew out the image in a notebook of his own.
He handed Ichabod back the original. “But I’m afraid you’re dealing with a criminal possessing more imagination than knowledge.”
“It is beginning to look that way. Before coming to you I spoke to every other gentleman at the club and no one knows what this is or even who she is.” Ichabod took out a drawing of the murder victim and handed it to Wood.
“Pretty, young creature,” Wood spoke with regret. “What a pity. But no I don’t recognize her either. I’m sorry I could not have been more help.”
“To the contrary, sir. You’ve been much more help than most.” Ichabod bowed and left the club.
***
That evening Ichabod trudged back home, tired, chilled through and discouraged. After concluding his visit to the explorer’s club, he had visited as many upscale New York homes as he could reach in a day by foot and taxi. No one seemed to know this girl. She may as well have been an orphan for all the interest taken in her. He thought back to the physical examination of the body and mused that she did not look much like a treasured rich man’s daughter without the dress on. She wasn’t just slender but close to emaciated and her long, under formed legs were full of rickets. Granted she could have simply been rich and sickly but it did cast doubt on her being well off along with the fact that no one seemed to know who she was.
It wasn’t just his own insatiable curiosity and determination to solve the case that kept him working so hard. There was also the threat of the press getting wind of the story and spreading it all through New York in the papers. Because it was impossible to tell if the murder was primarily ritualistic and meant to make a statement or primarily a robbery, Ichabod had no way of knowing if the press coverage would help or hurt the investigation. If the murder was a statement, the press coverage would be helpful as it might encourage the criminal out into the open to take credit for his deed. If on the other hand, the murder was a cleverly disguised robbery, press coverage would send the criminal running out of town as fast as possible if he had not already left. Besides all that, even though Ichabod was allowed to use his methods of crime solving, this was still largely a trial period and he was under a lot of pressure to prove them effective.
A few blocks from his home, he encountered Constable Erikson who accompanied him the rest of the way.
“So Crane, any luck on the mysterious dock murder?”
“I’ve had one or two leads.” Ichabod said guardedly. He didn’t want the chief constable to know the extent of his difficulties given how the man felt about the scientific method.
“Well that is a mercy.” Erikson said with more than a trace of smugness. “You don’t come up with something soon, and top brass will lose patience very quickly, mark my words.”
Ichabod groaned inwardly. If he had been using the old, brutal methods of police work, top brass wouldn’t care if he took years to solve cases. Simply because his methods were new...
Just then, they arrived at Ichabod’s front door. Ichabod let them in and the two men found Katrina and the chief constable’s wife at a late tea. Ichabod was not surprised to see Erikson’s wife Lisa there. Despite the difference in wealth between their families, Lisa Erikson had taken to Katrina’s ladylike yet unaffected pastoral manner and found their small, cozy flat a refreshing change from her larger home.
“Ichabod!” Katrina rose from the table and greeted her husband with a kiss, momentarily heedless of the company. “You’re home.” She looked back at her guest a little embarrassed but Mrs. Erikson smiled delightedly though she would never dream of greeting her own husband in so free a manner outside their own home. She looked back at Ichabod. “Come and sit down dear. What a long day you’ve had.” She ushered him to a chair. She remembered her company manners just long enough to remark, “Please do join us, Chief Constable Erikson?”
He did so, if a bit stiffly. Katrina poured them each a cup of tea. “Ichabod’s been working so hard on this dock murder crime. I really do fear he’ll do himself harm.”
The constable’s wife chuckled softly. “I suppose then that Constable Crane is far too busy to help with my little mystery?”
“Mystery?” Her husband asked with mild interest.
“Oh it’s nothing all that important, Fred, darling. It’s just I ordered this absolutely divine gown from Paris a month or two ago and it’s not arrived yet. Oh it’s the absolute latest fashion and a lovely burgundy red colour that would be perfect with my chestnut hair...Whatever is the matter dear?”
“Nothing...nothing.” Her husband said quickly. “It is almost frightening the way you spend my hard earned money, Lisa.” He wiped his face briefly with a napkin.
Ichabod sat lost in his own thoughts for a few minutes before getting up hastily from the table. “I’m very sorry, Katrina but it seems I’ve left my notebook at the station. I’d best go get it.”
“all right, Ichabod. Hurry back...if possible.” Ichabod smiled in mild embarrassment and kissed his wife before departing
A few minutes later, the chief constable also got up. “If you two ladies will excuse me. I’ve got a bit of paper work to catch up on at the station.”
“Of course Fred, darling.” She kissed her husband’s cheek. “I will see you later.” He bowed to Katrina and left. “Well it appears to be just us girls once again.”
“Yes,” said Katrina hiding her sudden unease behind a polite smile. She privately wondered what the chief constable was up to. Ichabod had often told her of his positive hatred of paperwork and his shameless palming it off onto lesser officers. She decided to follow him to the station as soon as Mrs. Erikson left her.
“Thank you, sir. That would be very helpful.” Ichabod addressed the sharp, fit older gentleman behind the mahogany desk. Colonel Wood nodded and drew out the image in a notebook of his own.
He handed Ichabod back the original. “But I’m afraid you’re dealing with a criminal possessing more imagination than knowledge.”
“It is beginning to look that way. Before coming to you I spoke to every other gentleman at the club and no one knows what this is or even who she is.” Ichabod took out a drawing of the murder victim and handed it to Wood.
“Pretty, young creature,” Wood spoke with regret. “What a pity. But no I don’t recognize her either. I’m sorry I could not have been more help.”
“To the contrary, sir. You’ve been much more help than most.” Ichabod bowed and left the club.
***
That evening Ichabod trudged back home, tired, chilled through and discouraged. After concluding his visit to the explorer’s club, he had visited as many upscale New York homes as he could reach in a day by foot and taxi. No one seemed to know this girl. She may as well have been an orphan for all the interest taken in her. He thought back to the physical examination of the body and mused that she did not look much like a treasured rich man’s daughter without the dress on. She wasn’t just slender but close to emaciated and her long, under formed legs were full of rickets. Granted she could have simply been rich and sickly but it did cast doubt on her being well off along with the fact that no one seemed to know who she was.
It wasn’t just his own insatiable curiosity and determination to solve the case that kept him working so hard. There was also the threat of the press getting wind of the story and spreading it all through New York in the papers. Because it was impossible to tell if the murder was primarily ritualistic and meant to make a statement or primarily a robbery, Ichabod had no way of knowing if the press coverage would help or hurt the investigation. If the murder was a statement, the press coverage would be helpful as it might encourage the criminal out into the open to take credit for his deed. If on the other hand, the murder was a cleverly disguised robbery, press coverage would send the criminal running out of town as fast as possible if he had not already left. Besides all that, even though Ichabod was allowed to use his methods of crime solving, this was still largely a trial period and he was under a lot of pressure to prove them effective.
A few blocks from his home, he encountered Constable Erikson who accompanied him the rest of the way.
“So Crane, any luck on the mysterious dock murder?”
“I’ve had one or two leads.” Ichabod said guardedly. He didn’t want the chief constable to know the extent of his difficulties given how the man felt about the scientific method.
“Well that is a mercy.” Erikson said with more than a trace of smugness. “You don’t come up with something soon, and top brass will lose patience very quickly, mark my words.”
Ichabod groaned inwardly. If he had been using the old, brutal methods of police work, top brass wouldn’t care if he took years to solve cases. Simply because his methods were new...
Just then, they arrived at Ichabod’s front door. Ichabod let them in and the two men found Katrina and the chief constable’s wife at a late tea. Ichabod was not surprised to see Erikson’s wife Lisa there. Despite the difference in wealth between their families, Lisa Erikson had taken to Katrina’s ladylike yet unaffected pastoral manner and found their small, cozy flat a refreshing change from her larger home.
“Ichabod!” Katrina rose from the table and greeted her husband with a kiss, momentarily heedless of the company. “You’re home.” She looked back at her guest a little embarrassed but Mrs. Erikson smiled delightedly though she would never dream of greeting her own husband in so free a manner outside their own home. She looked back at Ichabod. “Come and sit down dear. What a long day you’ve had.” She ushered him to a chair. She remembered her company manners just long enough to remark, “Please do join us, Chief Constable Erikson?”
He did so, if a bit stiffly. Katrina poured them each a cup of tea. “Ichabod’s been working so hard on this dock murder crime. I really do fear he’ll do himself harm.”
The constable’s wife chuckled softly. “I suppose then that Constable Crane is far too busy to help with my little mystery?”
“Mystery?” Her husband asked with mild interest.
“Oh it’s nothing all that important, Fred, darling. It’s just I ordered this absolutely divine gown from Paris a month or two ago and it’s not arrived yet. Oh it’s the absolute latest fashion and a lovely burgundy red colour that would be perfect with my chestnut hair...Whatever is the matter dear?”
“Nothing...nothing.” Her husband said quickly. “It is almost frightening the way you spend my hard earned money, Lisa.” He wiped his face briefly with a napkin.
Ichabod sat lost in his own thoughts for a few minutes before getting up hastily from the table. “I’m very sorry, Katrina but it seems I’ve left my notebook at the station. I’d best go get it.”
“all right, Ichabod. Hurry back...if possible.” Ichabod smiled in mild embarrassment and kissed his wife before departing
A few minutes later, the chief constable also got up. “If you two ladies will excuse me. I’ve got a bit of paper work to catch up on at the station.”
“Of course Fred, darling.” She kissed her husband’s cheek. “I will see you later.” He bowed to Katrina and left. “Well it appears to be just us girls once again.”
“Yes,” said Katrina hiding her sudden unease behind a polite smile. She privately wondered what the chief constable was up to. Ichabod had often told her of his positive hatred of paperwork and his shameless palming it off onto lesser officers. She decided to follow him to the station as soon as Mrs. Erikson left her.