Eyewitness to Murder By Dee Creamer creamer@concentric.net All Disclaimers apply. Steve awoke quickly as a knee pressed into his back, his wrists drawn together and handcuffed. At almost the same instant, a piece of tape was slapped over his mouth. He was dragged from his bed onto the floor of his bedroom. As he lay on the floor he tried to see some details about his attackers. There was only enough light for him to make out five figures dressed all in dark clothing, heads covered with something dark, probably ski masks. One of the figures moved forward and knelt by Steve's head, then whispered in his ear, "You intend to testify at Butcher Burns' trial next week. Not a good idea." As the man stepped back, a kick landed on Steve's side. Then all the figures moved forward and began landing kicks over his body. To try to block out the pain, Steve tried to concentrate on something else. Butcher Burns. Supposedly, his nickname was well deserved, and from what Steve had seen, he could believe it. Burns was the leader of a motorcycle gang that was believed to be starting up a major drug network. Steve had gone undercover as a biker to try to get some solid evidence. He had gotten a good lead on a big deal that was supposed to be going down, and had passed the info on to his contact, but something had gone wrong. For some reason, Burns called off the deal. Now, the gang was gathered around a bonfire in a deserted area, all drinking and seemingly in good spirits. Burns stepped closer to the fire, his arm on the shoulder of Mike McGuire. "Folks, I just want to say a few words about my right hand man here, Mike. Mike, you did a great job of setting up that deal, even if it didn't come off, and I know that next time things will go a lot better. But tonight, I'm going to see that you get what you deserve." Before Steve could react, or move, Burns had whipped a pistol from behind his back, put it to McGuire's head, and pulled the trigger. Steve had instinctively started forward, but stopped when he realized he couldn't come on like a cop right now or the next bullet would be heading in his direction. So he'd played along and reacted the same way the others had reacted, and listened as Burns explained that McGuire had been feeding info to the cops. That's why the deal hadn't happened as planned, and this was how Burns dealt with informers. Later that night, while the rest of the gang was sleeping off the beer and booze, Steve had slipped away to find a phone and call in the murder. Before the night was over, Burns had been arrested for McGuire's murder, and Steve had become the prosecution's star witness - a cop who had actually seen the murder being committed. A sharp kick to his kidney brought Steve back to the present. One of the figures knelt by his head again, and whispered in his ear, "If you testify and we have to come back, it won't be as pleasant an experience as this one was." With that, a kick landed on Steve's forehead, and his last thought was, "Thank God, Dad didn't hear anything and come down to investigate." * * * * * Mark started the coffee early, knowing the smell would draw Steve from downstairs like a grouchy bear from hibernation. Then he started to assemble the makings of a Western omelet, Steve's favorite breakfast. He chopped up the onions, green peppers, ham, and cheese, all the time expecting to see Steve coming for his first cup of coffee. He finished the preparation, and still no Steve. So Mark started his own breakfast. He couldn't eat with quite the same enthusiasm as his son. He had to be a bit more careful of the calories, so he settled for one poached egg on a piece of unbuttered toast. He finished eating, and put his dirty dishes in the dishwasher. Still no sign of Steve. Maybe he'd forgotten to set his alarm last night. Mark decided to wait till he'd gotten ready for work before waking Steve up. He knew Steve would be grumpy, but he also knew Steve would be grateful that his father had awakened him and not let him be late for work. When Mark came out and saw that Steve still hadn't come up, he started down the stairs. As he stepped into his son's bedroom, he saw Steve lying handcuffed on the floor, deep purple bruises showing on his back and sides. Mark raced to his son's side. As he put a hand to Steve's neck to feel for a pulse, Steve groaned. Mark saw the tape on Steve's mouth and tried to gently remove it. When the tape came off, Steve groaned again. "Steve, what happened? Are you alright? How long have you been lying here?" Steve cut off his father's questions with a shake of his head. His throat and mouth were dry, but he managed to whisper, "Dad, the handcuffs." "Of course. I'm sorry, son." Mark looked around the room. The handcuffs must be Steve's own, because his weren't on the dresser, only the key. Mark quickly got the key and removed the cuffs. As Steve's arms fell limply to his sides, Mark reached for the phone by Steve's bed and called for an ambulance. * * * * * Mark was sitting in the doctor's lounge with Amanda, when Jesse walked in the door. "He's going to be just fine, Mark. He does have a concussion, some bruised ribs, and a bruised kidney, but there's no serious damage. He's going to be in a lot of pain for a while, though." "Can I see him, Jess?" "Well, they're getting him settled into a room right now. I want to keep him here overnight for observation. Once he's settled in though, you can see him." * * * * * As Mark looked down at his son, his heart contracted in fear. He knew Steve was going to be fine, Jesse had said so, but he couldn't help worrying about Steve anyway. Standing there, Mark realized, once again, that no matter how big Steve got or how old he was, he would always be Mark's little boy. "Steve, what happened last night?" Haltingly, Steve related as much as he knew about his attackers and what had happened. "I can't believe I slept through all that. Steve, you have to pass this on to your Captain, or the DA. Somebody." "Dad, what good would it do? I can't identify any of them. I can't even say for sure that they were all men, although they seemed to be. The only one I can be sure was male was the guy who whispered in my ear, and even at that, I'd never recognize his voice again, if he was speaking in a normal tone. And you slept through it because they were being very careful not to make noise" Mark didn't want to let it go, but Steve looked tired and Mark decided not to press it. "Try to get some rest, son. I'll look in on you later." * * * * * Mark, Amanda, Jesse, and Steve sat around the dinner table. Mark had fixed spaghetti, Steve's favorite, to celebrate Steve's release from the hospital. Amanda and Jesse tried to keep up a conversation, but Mark had noticed Steve becoming more and more remote. Now, Steve was staring blankly at his plate and idly pushing the food around with his fork. Mark tried to bring Steve into the conversation. "What's the matter son, not spicy enough for you?" Silence, no response. Jesse, with the subtlety and tact for which he was well known, leaned toward Steve and yelled, "HEY, STEVE!" Steve jumped and looked up at the worried faces staring at him. "Sorry guys. I guess I'm a bit out of it." "No kidding. I hadn't noticed." Jesse quipped. Mark tried to allay what he thought might be Steve's worries. "You know Steve, you have a lot of vacation time coming. After the trial, you can just take off for a while so that if those men do come back, they won't find you here." Steve slowly shook his head. "That's great Dad. Then, instead of finding me here, they'll find you, alone. That makes me feel a whole lot better." Mark sat back and looked at his son with astonishment. "Is that what's been bothering you?" "Dad, I can't stop thinking about what might have happened if you'd heard something and come downstairs. I have this image indelibly etched in my brain of you lying there battered and bloody, and I can't get it out of my mind." "Steve, there's not much point in worrying about it. We'll both be especially careful after the trial, but you have to testify." "No, Dad, I don't." "Steve, without your testimony, Burns will go free. You have to testify." "Dad, if it means that there's any chance that you might be hurt, I'm not going to testify." "Steve you saw that man murdered. You have to tell what you saw." "I don't want to talk about it, Dad." The four sat in silence for a moment. Mark, Amanda, and Jesse all shocked by Steve's statement. Then Amanda broke the silence. "Well then, if Steve can't testify, we're just going to have to come up with some evidence to conclusively link Burns to the murder." Mark and Steve both stared at Amanda. "Amanda, you're brilliant!" Mark cried. "We've got 5 days to come up with something that will put Burns away." "But Dad, if there were anything like that, the detectives handling the case would have found it and the DA wouldn't be so hot for me to testify." Jesse piped up, "No, Steve, don't you see? They had a cop eyewitness to the murder. They didn't really need anything else. How much effort would they have put into running down any other leads?" "Guys, I still think if there had been anything there, they would have found it, but, like Dad said, you've got 5 days to come up with something. If you don't, Burns walks." Steve stated flatly. * * * * * It was the day before the trial was to start. Mark started the coffee and took out the fixings for breakfast. They still hadn't come up with anything solid, and as the days went by, Steve had become more withdrawn. Mark could see that the conflict between Steve's sworn duty as a cop and his feelings for his father had been tearing him up. He'd been having nightmares that he refused to talk about, and had just about stopped eating at all. Mark turned as he heard Steve slowly make his way up the stairs. The deep circles and the haunted look in his eyes pretty much told their own story. "Another rough night?" Steve just nodded. "Steve..." "Dad, I don't want to talk about it. You, Amanda, and Jesse have just today to come up with something solid to tie Burns to that murder." "Then I guess we'd best not waste any time." Mark commented as he headed for the door. * * * * * Mark, Amanda, and Jesse sat around the doctors' lounge table taking one more look at the evidence. Mark had all the pictures taken at the scene. Amanda had McGuire's autopsy report. Jesse had the reports. After each one had looked through their part of the evidence, they all shifted their portion to the person on their left. Mark got Jesse's reports. Amanda got the pictures. Jesse got the autopsy report. After poring over the information for several minutes, Mark and Amanda simultaneously shouted, "I've got it!" Mark and Amanda looked at each other, and again spoke at the same time. "The blood!" "The boots!" Jesse just stared on in confusion. "Hey, that's not fair! I haven't seen the pictures yet," Jesse grumped. "You guys going to fill me in, or are you going to leave me in the dark?" Amanda looked at Mark and nodded. "Okay," Mark started, "if you look at the photos..." "Which I haven't seen yet," Jesse couldn't help adding. Mark started again, "If you look at the photos, there are pictures of blood splotches an the ground. Now, according to Steve's report, Burns was standing fairly close to McGuire when he shot him. Amanda, stand up and you be McGuire. I'll be Burns." They both stood and took positions approximating the positions Steve described for Burns and McGuire. "Burns had his hand on McGuire's shoulder when he shot him, so he must have been standing about like this," Mark commented as he took his position. "Even though the force of the bullet would have caused most of the particles and blood to be projected away and to the side..." "There still would have been some bleeding from the entry wound!" Jesse finished. "And, being so close to McGuire, Burns would have gotten some blood on him. His boots!" Jesse commented, finally up to speed. "But wouldn't the cops have noticed the bloody boots?" "Maybe not, Jess," Mark stated. "If you look at this picture of the blood, you'll notice that most of it is in one spot. There's just one spot over here where you see a faint curved indentation to the spot. So there may not have been any visible blood on Burns' boots, but on the side of the sole, where the blood had touched..." "There'd be some trace of blood!" Jesse interrupted once again. "But after all this time, would it still be there?" This time Amanda jumped in, "Even after all this time, Jesse, the blood should still be there. The boots, as well as all the rest of Burns' belongings have been locked up. It's just a question of whether there's enough to conclusively identify it as McGuire's blood." Jesse still wasn't quite convinced. "Okay, we maybe can prove it's McGuire's blood, but that doesn't prove Burns killed him." Again, Amanda answered, "Yes it does, because the wound was almost instantly fatal, and McGuire wouldn't have bled from the entrance wound after that. So Burns would have to have gotten the blood on his boots almost as soon as McGuire died." Mark put in his own two cents, "And the position of the footprints makes it clear that Burns was standing right next to McGuire." "So," Jesse concluded, "all we need to do is get the boots and check for the blood, and then match it to McGuire's blood!" The three stood grinning at each other for another couple of minutes before Amanda spoke, "So, when are you going to tell Steve?" "I think I'll wait till we have some proof." Mark replied. * * * * * Steve sat at his desk trying to concentrate on his paperwork, without much success. He had been putting off calling the DA to let the DA know that he didn't intend to testify. He could imagine the kind of heat he was going to take for that, but some things were more important than his job. Like his father. As Steve looked around the room, he noticed that most of the other detectives had already left. He looked at his watch to find that it was already 6:00. He'd better get the call over with. As he reached for the phone, it rang. "Sloan," he answered. "Sloan, this is Peterson with the DA's office. It looks like we won't be needing you're testimony after all. Some new evidence has come to light that positively ties Burns to McGuire's murder." It took a moment for the words to sink in. "Sloan, are you still there?" "Uh, yeah. Thanks. That's great." Steve managed to get the words out while his mind still reeled from the news. He hung up slowly. Suddenly he wanted to see his father and give him the news. * * * * * Mark, Amanda, and Jesse prepared the dinner. Jesse was trusted with the salad. Amanda took care of the garlic bread. Mark stirred the spaghetti sauce. Since Steve hadn't much enjoyed the last spaghetti dinner they'd had, Mark had decided to try again. After dinner, Mark figured they'd tell Steve that they'd found the evidence they needed and had turned it over to the DA earlier today. They all paused as they heard Steve coming up the steps with the type of energy he'd displayed before he'd been attacked. Steve was still a little dazed by the nice twist that events had taken. He started speaking before he reached the kitchen, "You guys will never guess what just happened..." he stopped short as he caught sight of the three faces grinning at him. All he could do was stammer out, "It was you, wasn't it?" Three heads nodded back at him in unison. Steve moved forward to gather the three in a group hug. "You guys are something else, you know that?" his voice husky with the pent up emotions of the past few days. As he pressed his head against his father's, tears filled his eyes and started down his cheeks. He broke the embrace with an embarrassed smile, and brushed the tears from his eyes and face. "So are we going to eat sometime tonight, or what? I'm starved!"