Naive Charles Royce (great novels .txt) 📖

“Yes, ma’am,” replies one of them. Astrid doesn’t know which.

“And I want a full report from all the laptops and computers and cell phones, of course including the victim’s and the defendant’s,” Astrid says. “Internet search history, email search of key words, all of it. Now what about the murder weapon?”

The paralegal fumbles again, this time taking longer.

“Look at me, look at me, look up here.” Astrid mimes two fingers poking herself in her eyes. “I understand this is a lot of pressure I’m putting on you guys to help me prosecute in this amount of time, but just concentrate. You know the information, you don’t have to find it. I simply want to go through what we have. I need the high points.”

Astrid sits back, proud of herself for not reaming the shit out of him.

He diverts his attention away from his folders and closes his eyes for a full two seconds. “Right. Okay, the murder weapon is still in question. Analysis of the utensils left in the sink reasonably confirms that none of them was the actual murder weapon, although the puncture wounds prove almost conclusively that the thirty-three stab wounds were from one of the steak knives found in the sink.”

“What does that mean?” she asks, already knowing the answer.

“Okay. First, the knife in the sink could actually be the murder weapon, but it could have been wiped clean. However, there was food on it, which means it’s not. Shit.”

“Calm down. You’re on to something, just take your time.”

“But we don’t have time, you said.”

“You’re right. Here’s the deal. First, we know it wasn’t the actual murder weapon because of the analysis, but what we do know is that it could be part of a set owned by the defendant. Second, the murder weapon is still out there, and could be hidden somewhere close. Do we have someone on it?”

“Actually, we do. The same team who’s looking for where that video could’ve recorded to.”

“Okay, what about the African case that housed the wireless camera?”

“Near as we can place it, it was hand-made, and it came from Africa.”

Astrid bites her lip. She looks at the girl sitting next to him.

“You, what about the drug use? The initial results from blood and saliva rule out heroin consumption in the previous 48 hours. Can anyone confirm or deny that Lennox and/or Micah have used drugs recently?”

“We’ve talked to friends and combed social media,” the second paralegal answers. “We’ve even visited two twelve-step support groups we know they have attended and asked around. Everyone we talked to seems to think they were both sober.”

“And what about the icon on the drugs found at the scene, any idea who the heroin came from?”

“A vague recollection from a few months ago,” says the third paralegal. “Someone at what’s called ‘the Red Door A.A. meeting’ in the Village said he remembers buying heroin with that emblem. He said he was too fucked up to remember exactly who it came from, although he did remember buying it from someone at a party in Chinatown, around Grand and Chrystie.”

“Good, good, start there. Speaking of drugs, I want hair follicle analysis as soon as the results are in. They’ll tell us if either of them had been using in the past three months or so. These drugs they found may be old, meaning we don’t know how recently he was using, if he got sober again or what. Talk to his friends, his friends’ drug dealers, whoever you can. If he was using, it might be argued that it could be an additional motive for Micah to kill him, maybe a reason for a fight, maybe a lingering resentment.”

“On it,” two of them say in unison.

“Okay, we have a savage murder, people, possibly sexually motivated, with a possible drug angle, possible resentment for infidelity from two years ago, possible murder weapon, a confession of sorts, a one-point-five-million-dollar insurance policy, and the possibility that the whole night was caught on tape. Sounds pretty good, but we have to get specifics beyond circumstantial. I want that tape.”

“Actually, it’s probably digital,” says the first paralegal.

Again, Astrid chews her lip, this time almost bringing blood.

He notices. “But I know what you mean. I’ll make that a priority.”

“What about tape surveillance from nearby sources?” She continues to talk directly to him. “Where was Micah before? When? What did he do?”

“Well, the video from his condo complex is not working, but there are two outside within a block of his house, one facing the front of the building, the other down the street, pointing north towards Essex,” he says authoritatively, this time referring to notes from a folder he has quickly located. “According to the one just outside his building, Micah Breuer was spotted leaving the condo at 7:17pm, and the camera just outside the new Élan building caught him arriving at the party at 7:57pm on the night in question. I know what you’re thinking, how can it take that long to drive uptown? We checked on that. Traffic wasn’t bad that evening, according to GPS records and several video sources at vantage points along the way. But we have the vehicle clocked at a gas station at 7:40pm just east of the Village, which could explain why it took so long.”

“Great work, so now we have the beginnings of a timeline. Do we have any other people coming in or out of the building during that time?”

“Yes, a few, but they’re accounted for.” He grabs 8x10 photo stills from the folder and lays them on the table in front of them. “These two are neighbors who live upstairs. One’s an actor and the other is a model. We talked with them and they were both together all night, said they barely know Lennox and Micah other than the occasional party they all attended. They didn’t hear anything that night, but not sure they would, considering no one shares a wall with the full-floor units.”

“What about