Maddy’S Place

By R L Bowden

Sex & Drugs & Rock n Bowl

This is serious business. Newly promoted Chief Homicide Detective Jack Diamonds first case is to solve the death of the towns most famous resident, professional bowler Biff Bower. Bowers body was found standing upright on the eve of his annual Memorial Day weekend bowling tournament. An illegal, grueling 72-hour winner-take-all marathon tournament.

Detective Diamonds previous experience is of a 20-year veteran beat cop, whose duties were consisted of berating jaywalkers and checking parking meters. Promoted out of necessity and working with a skeleton crew, Diamond must do most of the legwork himself along with Lydia, Biff Bowers, mysterious, young personal biographer. Lydia was also the last known person to have seen Bower alive.

Through Lydia, Diamond gets to know Maddys Place. A home for wayward girls that Bower frequented often during his turbulent youth. He gets to know the influences that he had on it, as well. Within Bower's fifty-year career and the people who shared his life may lie the clues that led to his demise.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Feb 20, 2018
• ISBN: 9781984509666

R L Bowden

R.L. Bowden was born in Gardiner, Maine, a quiet man who lives in Central Maine with his wife, Karen and his faithful dog, Jasper. He is the author of two previous novels Undying and Redemption. He enjoys writing in his spare time. In the spring and summer, you can usually find him in East Boothbay with his family and his notebook in hand. He has worked in the Mental health field for the last ten years working with people with Disabilities and Mental illness.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

DIAMOND IN THE ROUGH

D iamond was awakened by the sound of wailing sirens and blue and red lights strobing cross his bedroom ceiling. He groaned. Somebody had been screwing with the settings on his cellphone again. He could narrow it down to one of two persons. He rolled over, picking up his cellphone from the nightstand, flipped it open and said, Diamond. Homicide. He always answered the phone that way. It scared off the telemarketers.

This is your ‘wake-up’ call, a disembodied voice chuckled on the other end. Diamond cursed under his breath. It was Porter. His part-time partner and full-time pain-in-the-ass. If he had only taken the time to check the caller I.D. before answering the phone. The word ‘Asshole’ scrolled across the screen identifying the caller. That was the name he had assigned to Detective Bill Porter.

Diamond glanced over at the digital clock on his dresser and muttered, Holy shit! I just got to sleep. Somebody better have died!

Actually, somebody did, Porter chuckled. Biff Bower. Welcome to homicide.

Shit. That’s right! Diamond said and jotted down the details on his notepad while Porter droned on. When the detective had finished, Diamond said, I’ll be there as soon as I can. And hung up.

Don’t forget the donuts, Porter said, not realizing the line was dead. Dammit! he muttered a moment later and closed his phone and slid it into his jacket pocket.

Diamond got out of bed. It creaked almost as much as his joints. He’d be forty next week. He stumbled to the room across the hallway and knocked lightly on the door before opening it and flipping on the light switch. The sudden glare from the bulb blinding him. Honey, you’ve got to get up. I’m sorry but I’ve got to go to work. His eyes slowly adjusted to the light and he noticed the bed was empty. Not only that but it was still made. And the knapsack that was usually hanging on the bedpost was gone.

He started to panic before he had remembered that he had dropped his daughter off at her grandmother’s yesterday afternoon so he could work. He went downstairs into the kitchen and turned on the light over the stove before hitting the on button on the automatic coffee maker.

He was halfway back up the stairs before the aroma of the freshly brewing coffee hit him, causing him to want to turn around and head back down. Coffee was his only ad-diction as far as he knew but too much too early wired him up like faulty wiring in a fire trap.

After hesitating on the steps for a moment, he went up into the bathroom and turned on the shower. He stripped off his nylons and threw them in the hamper then stepped inside, checking first to make sure the water temperature was tolerable.

He lathered up to shave and let out a scream that echoed throughout the four room Apartment. Someone in the apartment on the first floor had just flushed the toilet. Nothing like third degree burns to snap you awake.

Diamond’s mind recalled the past twenty-four hours as he finished shaving. He Had been called upon for vice duty after the only female officer began complaining about sexual discrimination. Everybody was walking on eggshells during these politically correct times.

It had been a slow night. Apparently, there wasn’t much call for a six-foot five hooker with five o’clock shadow. Actually, he did get a couple of propositions but didn’t have the heart to arrest the two men who were too drunk to know that he wasn’t a woman.

You want some of this, sweetie? he asked as he hiked up his dress enough to reveal the badge pinned to his garter. The men sobered up immediately and ran off.

He got home at one thirty and fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. That’s When the phone rang waking him. But that didn’t bother him. Actually, it was a relief. The dreams were staring again just as they always did this time of year. Not only that but they were accelerating. He started to wonder if he was going mad. He had been named chief homicide investigator only a few days ago. It was a bad time to be going insane. That brought him to the present. Where he had just almost severed a carotid artery while shaving. The water running down the drain was crimson. He pressed two fingers against his neck, hoping to stem the flow and threw open the shower door and reached out to the roll of toilet paper that was hanging against the wall. He managed a ply from the roll but it dissolved on his fingertips as soon as it hit the water. He groaned and grabbed the entire roll this time, yanking it from it’s spindle. Feeling lightheaded he pressed it against his neck. Turning off the water, he got out of the shower holding the roll with his left hand, he toweled off with his right. The lights began to flicker. That would’ve been a pisser. He hadn’t even finished shaving, yet.

Can’t pass out, now, he told himself. Got a job to do. He toweled off the mirror and checked his wound. It was a hell of a gash, he noted but thankfully it was starting to clot. He gingerly began to finish shaving the right side of his face. No aftershave, he reminded himself. He took one last glance into the bathroom before he shut off the light. It looked like a slaughterhouse in there. He’d have to clean that up before Sarah came home.

Twenty minutes later he bounded down the front steps to his ’87 Ford Escort. Over 200,000 miles but it still ran like a top. All over the place. Diamond unlocked the door and got in. He turned the ignition and the automatic seat belt with shoulder harness whirred slowly around and strapped him in. He leaned forward to change the station on the radio but the belt yanked him back. Pinning him securely to the seat without any give. Must be a malfunction, he thought. He’d have to take it in and have it looked at. But he could still reach the steering wheel and gear shift so he proceeded to pull out of the driveway. He hit the semaphore and headed down the road. He didn’t think the siren would be warranted this time of day. With the steady pulse of blue beacon reflecting off the inside of the windshield and the light rain bouncing off the outside, he felt like he was inside a mobile lighthouse.

He felt inside his pocket to get the address he had written down over the phone but didn’t need it. He knew where he was going. He had ridden past it a couple of times on his bike with his friend, Tommy when he was a kid. He smiled. He hadn’t thought about Tommy in years, Where was Tommy, he wondered? Probably in some filthy Mexican prison. Or stumbling around in some third world country where they cut off your hands for stealing. He hadn’t seen Tommy since, when was it? The night he graduated form the police academy. Third in his class, he might add. Although he wouldn’t add that there were only four students in the class that year. And the fourth one ended up as police chief at the Lewiston police department eight years ago. It had been almost twenty years since that night Tommy slipped out the window. My, how time flies. Especially when you’re not having fun.

He knew he should be thinking about the case but what was the use at this point.

The only facts he had were that the town’s most famous and infamous citizen had been murdered in his living room during the wee hours of the morning and there were apparently no visible signs of entry, according to his phone call with his partner. But Bill sometimes couldn’t find his nose if he had a cat attached, in his estimable opinion. But he had decided to keep that to himself. There was also one other thing that Bill had mentioned. He hadn’t ever heard of that happening. Oh well, he’d find out for himself soon enough.

He pulled up to the Bower mansion. It looked the same as he remembered it as a Boy. Only smaller, somehow. And there was a brick wall surrounding the building. The Only entrance in the wall was through a wrought iron gate. It had been decorated with bowling pins being struck by a bowling ball. Diamond figured the owner got the idea From the guitar players that were embedded in the fence at Graceland.

On the left wall was an intercom with a video camera. He pulled over next to it and reached out to push the button but it was a few inches out of reach. He cracked the door and leaned out. The automatic shoulder harness sprang forward and around his neck Dragging him out of the car. The last thing he remembered seeing before blacking out was a chewed-up wad of gum on the pavement.

He opened his eyes and saw his partner, Bill Porter, kneeling over him. I thought you were a goner, Bill said.

Diamond grunted in acknowledgement. It was understood They were proud men.

Under no circumstances would there be mouth-to-mouth.

How long was I out? Diamond asked.

About ten minutes, Bill replied, helping him up. I was about to call nine-one-one but I heard you snoring so I figured you were okay.

Good call, Diamond said. It was one of the few times he paid his partner a compliment.

You bring the donuts? Bill asked. Diamond thumbed to the passenger seat. Bill reached in and grabbed the bag and was about to turn off the engine and shut the door when Diamond said, Hold up a minute. He reached into his jacket and took out a pocket knife and cut that friggin’seatbelt off and threw it on the ground. He had once thought that the electronic seatbelt was the coolest thing about the car. Now he decided that the am radio was.

He followed his partner up to the main house, through the front door and into the largest ballroom he had ever seen. Tapestries covered the walls. A full-length mirror on either side and a spiral staircase leading upstairs to the guest rooms. Elegant but expensive. Biff Bower obviously had been vain. He followed Bill through a small pantry- way into an oversized den. The victim’s accomplishments were everywhere. Mammoth trophies lined the room. On the wall were pictures of him shaking hands with Ernest Hemmingway, President Nixon, Elvis and Marilyn Monroe among others.

I’ve got donuts, Bill said, taking the credit.

Diamond walked into the living room and was taken aback by what he saw.

The victim, Biff Bower, was standing in the middle of the carpet, looking straight at him.

His hands were upraised as if he were ready to pounce. There was a look of complete sur-

prise on his face. Diamond shivered as he saw the upright corpse.

Isn’t it neat? Bill said, stuffing a croeller in his mouth as Diamond slowly walked around the body, examining it.

How’d he die? Diamond asked.

Hit in the head with a blunt instrument, Bill said, taking his pen out of his shirt pocket and tapping the body on the top of the head. Diamond could see an area that was bruised and purple where the blood welled up under the skin. Doc says he ain’t never seen anything like it. The force of the blow drove his neck into his vertebrae fusing the spinal column. Says he was dead instantly. Dead on his feet.

What happened to his nose? Diamond asked, seeing it flattened and pushed over to the side.

Someone slammed the door, Bill said looking over at the three uniformed officers who were busy looking off elsewhere. The vibration caused the body to rock and it fell down face first. We stood it back up to preserve the crime scene.

Diamond nodded. Murder weapon? he asked.

Doc figures it was something round. Like the barrel of a baseball bat. Hit him directly on top of the head. Could’ve been from behind, from the size or looking him straight in the eyes when he did it. Doc says the perp could be either left handed or right handed based on the location of the blow.

That narrows it down, Diamond said.

Had to be somebody strong, Doc figures.

Power as well as accuracy. So, who are we looking for, Barry Bonds?

He had a game in San Francisco, last night. Couldn’t have been him.

I was kidding, Diamond said. Who phoned it in?

Porter reached into his pocket and brought out a notepad. A Mrs. Edna Babcock. The cleaning lady. Widowed. A nice old broad. She runs the boarding home at the edge of town.

Can I speak to her? Diamond asked patiently.

Porter cleared his throat and coughed into his hand. She’s not here, he said.

What?

We let her go home.

"You let the only eyewitness to a murder leave before she was questioned?

Geez Louise," Diamond said, exasperated.

There’s no way she could have done this, Porter said defensively. She’s about seventy. Short, he said holding his hand out about chest high. She said her guests would be up soon so she had to leave to go make breakfast. Besides, I’ve got her statement right here, he added, shaking his notepad. She usually comes in twice a week. Mondays and Thursdays but Bower told her he’d be out of town until Thursday and asked her to come in a day early because he planned to entertain.

Entertain who?

She didn’t say.

Where did he go out of town?

Didn’t say that, either.

Did she say anything?

She said that she had been doing this for thirty years and had learned how not to ask questions during that time. She seemed distracted but I just assumed it was because she was cleaning while we were talking.

You let her clean?

Just small stuff. Vacuuming and dusting and stuff like that. She did a hell of a job. You should’ve seen the place when we first came in.

Yeah, I should have, Diamond said gruffly.

Anyway, Bill said impatiently. She said she came in about one o’clock and began cleaning the kitchen and bathrooms first. She said she usually cleans this room last because it’s always such a mess.

How’d she get in?

She has a key. There’s a service entrance out back with a small road leading to an entrance in the back forty. That’s how she came in.

So, the place isn’t impregnable, Diamond mused.

Hardly, Bill replied. She came in here last and saw Bower in the middle of the room and told him how surprised she was to see him. She didn’t expect him back until tomorrow. When he didn’t answer, she realized he was dead. That’s when she called us.

Diamond surveyed the spacious living room while Bill rambled on. More celebrity photographs on the wall along with aerial views of industry buildings. Property Bower had owned, he surmised. Ten-foot high ceilings with floodlights. A big screen television in the corner. A fireplace with assorted trophies on the mantle. A bar on the far side of the room that ran the length of it with televisions mounted overhead, just like a sports bar.

Don’t touch that! It’s evidence, Porter said to a young uniform who was taking the last donut out of the bag. He took the donut away from him and wolfed it down.

Hey, check this out, the young officer said, lifting the bag from the desk. Diamond walked over, The old lady must’ve missed this. There’s a white powdery substance on the desk. Cocaine, you think?

That’s from the donuts, you idiot! Diamond snapped.

Rookies, Porter chuckled, shaking his head.

Diamond returned to surveying the room but found his eyes drawn back to the victim. He looked different, somehow. He was completely unprepared when he entered The room and saw the dead man standing there dressed only in his boxers. But now there was something different. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Then it dawned on him. The victim seemed happy to see him. Rigor mortis must be setting in, he thought uneasily. He became unnerved. He couldn’t concentrate while being stared at. He took off his fedora and placed it carefully over the offending member. That’s freaky, Porter thought.

Diamond went over and looked at the photographs adorning the wall. He stopped in front of a painted portrait that covered almost the entire wall. A portrait of a much younger Biff Bower in his heyday. Smiling broadly and sitting on a throne. A maned lion laying at his sandaled feet. A purple cape covering his broad bare shoulders and a bejeweled crown on his head. In one hand he held a scepter, in the other a bowling ball.

A pair of beauties were standing behind him dressed only in scanty leopard skin bikinis.

It was clearly good to be Biff Bower in those days. Diamond scrutinized the signature at The bottom right of the portrait but couldn’t make it out. Renoir, maybe? With hands in pockets he slowly walked down the carpet, examining each photograph and painting. One stood out. It didn’t belong. Dogs Playing Poker.

Diamond took out some rubber gloves from inside his jacket pocket and put them on. No, thanks, Bill quipped. I had my prostate checked last week. Diamond ignored him and lifted the picture. Just as he suspected, there was a wall safe beneath.

This been opened recently? Diamond asked as he took the picture down and set it carefully against the wall.

Didn’t even know it was there, Bill said.

Diamond shot him a glance of contempt and grabbed the handle of the safe. It didn’t budge. Get someone in here to open it, he growled.

We’ll need a court order, Porter said weakly.

When’s his birthday? Diamond asked.

What? Bill replied.

When was he born? Diamond asked impatiently.

I don’t know, Bill shrugged.

Well, call it in! Diamond barked.

Porter looked at him with shock and went quickly to the phone. He came back a few minutes later and said, July 31st. 1937.

Leo, Diamond said to himself, turning the dial on the safe to the number seven.

Who? Bill said, and slowly backed away.

He was born in July. That means he’s a Leo. Aggressive personality type. That probably explains his success, Diamond said patiently.

What sign are you? Bill asked.

Aquarius? Diamond replied as he turned the dial to the left until it fell on the number thirty-one.

And what does that mean? Bill asked hesitantly.

That I’m wishy-washy. If you believe in such things, Diamond replied.

My sign is ‘Slippery When Wet’. Bill grinned

That figures, Diamond said distastefully as he turned the dial to the right to the number thirty-seven and listened as the tumblers clicked into place. Diamond grabbed the handle and turned it, pulling it open. Empty, he said. Just as I suspected. There’s your motive.

Not entirely, Bill said and reached inside and pulled out, A mousetrap! And it’s been sprung. We only have to look for someone with mashed fingers and we’ve got our killer.

I suppose so, Diamond replied tiredly. He closed the safe and said, Did you dust this for fingerprints?

No, Bill said looking at his feet.

Damn it! Diamond muttered.

I’ll call forensics in, Bill said.

It’s too late now, Diamond replied. It’s contaminated. He fell silent for a moment. Then said. Okay, let’s just stick with what we do know. How tall is the victim?

About five ten, I guess, Bill replied. My height."

So, the killer would have to be taller.

How do you figure? Bill asked.

Because of the point of impact, Diamond replied, holding out his arm to the top of the victim’s head. It’s in perfect position.

The killer could’ve jumped up and hit him, Bill said.

Possible but unlikely. The act of jumping and swinging a bat at the same time would cause the blow to skew either to the left or the right depending on which was the dominant arm.

So the killer would have to be your size? Bill asked.

Exactly, Diamond said.

And powerful enough to crush the vertebrae with one blow and also know the combination to the safe.

Yes, Diamond replied.

So where were you on the night of… Bill started.

Don’t even go there! Diamond snapped.

Sorry, Bill muttered. Had to ask. It’s part of the job.

There’s your point of entry, Diamond said nodding towards the chimney.

Our guy was killed by Santa Claus? Bill exclaimed. He must’ve been a bad boy. And it’s not even December.

Diamond pointed out the scuff marks on the bricks on either side of the chimney at uneven intervals. Maybe not, Diamond said, scanning the floor. They would’ve left Sooty footprints. He pulled off his gloves and went to one knee and felt the carpet. It’s wet," he said.

Yeah, Bill replied nervously. I told you. The cleaning lady was here. She left just before you arrived."

I can’t believe you let a cleaning lady clean up a crime scene before it was examined, Diamond said incredulously.

She said she had been paid in advance, Porter said.

You got a flashlight? Diamond asked Bill. An eager young patrolman stepped forward and handed him the one that was attached to his belt. Thanks, Diamond grumbled and crouched down in the entranceway of the fireplace.

See anything? Bill asked.

No, it’s blocked. Something’s wedged in there, Diamond replied. He handed the flashlight to his partner and said to the young officer, Go up on the roof and shine your flashlight down the chimney.

I’m afraid of heights, sir, the officer replied. I fell out of a tree when I was a kid.

It’s clear, Porter said from behind him. Diamond whirled around and saw him standing in the chimney path. Only visible from the waist down. "I can see the stars.

There’s the big dipper."

Diamond waited as Bill grunted, struggling to get out of the chimney. Tight fit, Bill said, handing the flashlight back to Diamond.

Diamond again crouched on one knee and shined the flashlight up the opening. I’ll be damned, Diamond grumbled. I could’ve sworn it was blocked. Secure the grounds! he said quickly.

Done, Bill smiled. There’s a patrolman out front. I’m surprised you missed him."

Diamond hurried out the front door and saw an officer standing on the edge of the lawn. He noticed the officer’s left leg twitching in the shadows. You see anything? he asked the officer, rushing up to him.

What? the officer replied in surprise and pulled the headphones from his Walkman off his left ear. Diamond could hear Mick Jagger complain about not getting no satisfaction. I know how you feel, Mick, Diamond thought. He looked back up on the roof and thought he saw movement by the chimney.

Come, Watson! The games afoot! he shouted and took off at a dead run behind the building. Porter watched him for a moment and then took off after him. He rounded the corner and almost ran into the detective who was standing there shining the flashlight on the roof.

Who the hell’s Watson? Porter asked, out of breath.

Haven’t you ever heard of Sherlock Holmes? Diamond asked.

Who?

Sherlock Holmes. He was the father of deductive reasoning back in London during the late 1800’s.

Wasn’t he, like, a fictional character? Bill asked.

It doesn’t matter, Diamond replied. The same physical laws still apply. Take this quarter, for example, he said, shining his light down on a quarter that was lying on the grass. He knelt down and picked it up. This quarter formerly belonged to a man who is about five-foot, ten inches tall. Roughly a hundred and sixty pounds, he said holding the quarter up close to his face studying it while he twirled it slowly between his fingers. Quick tempered and egotistical. He also has bad breath and smelly feet.

No shit, Bill said, taking the quarter from him and examining it closely. How can you tell all that just by looking at it.

I saw it fall from your pocket when you almost ran into me, Diamond replied taking it back and shoving it into his own pocket.

Now, it belongs to an asshole, Porter muttered under his breath.

I could’ve sworn I saw some movement, Diamond said sweeping the beam of the flashlight across the eaves. He hesitated, and swept back. In the beam of the light just above him he saw a pair of eyes looking back at him. He blinked to refocus and it was upon him. Scratching and clawing at his face. He grabbed it by the scruff and threw it down. The cat looked back up at him and hissed, then ran scurrying into the bushes.

Should I chase him down and read him his rights? Porter joked.

No. He’ll be back, Diamond said. "Let’s go back inside.

They went back inside and Diamond checked his face on one of the mirrors that Lined the entryway. The scratches were mostly superficial but the one on his neck had opened up again ruining the shirt that Sarah had given to him for Father’s Day.

My God, Detective. What happened to you? one of the officers asked.

Cat fight, he said without thinking.

They looked up and saw a woman in uniform standing in the doorway. At her left hand was a large police dog that she held by the collar. Patrolman Amanda Leslie, she said holding out her right hand to the detectives.

Bill went over and took it smiling and said, Detectives Porter and Diamond at your service. giving himself top billing even though this was Diamond’s case.

Porter, she snorted a little. I’ve heard of you, Detective. She nodded towards Diamond after a moment’s hesitation. Diamond nodded back in acknowledgement. We just finished up a big marijuana bust down at the landing, she continued. Shooter here was outstanding, she added giving the dog an affectionate pat on the head.

How much did you net? Bill asked.

Almost five pounds, she replied.

Oooh, you must be bucking for lieutenant, Bill said sarcastically.

She ignored him and turned her attention to Diamond. I just heard your call on the dispatch, she said. Shooter and I decided to stop by and see if you could use our help.

We got it covered, Bill grumbled. He didn’t like ambitious women. The dog, a shepherd-huskie mix, wagged its tail in greeting to the two detectives and walked over and began sniffing Porter’s coat pocket. No doggy treats today, boy, Bill said, grabbing the dog’s muzzle and pushing him firmly away. Diamond thought he noticed beads of sweat break out on his partner’s forehead. The dog whined a couple of times before lying in the middle of the carpet, lifting its leg and cleaning itself.

I wish I could do that, Bill said thoughtfully.

You’d better pat him first, Officer Leslie replied, giving Diamond a wink.

Diamond decided he liked the young officer immediately.

The dog got up and walked over to the leather couch and began sniffing it end to end. He finally stopped at the right front and lifted his leg on it.

Damn! Bill said. I was hoping to buy that if it came up on auction.

I forgot to take him for his evening walk, Officer Leslie said sheepishly.

Shooter stuck his nose between the couch cushions and began barking viciously. Leslie regained control of the animal and dragged him away. Bill lifted the cushion and held out a pair of women’s panties.

Are they soiled? Diamond asked.

Not yet, Bill replied, stuffing them in his pocket.

It’s a plant, Officer Leslie said.

How can you tell? Bill asked, disappointed.

They’ve still got the tags on them, she replied.

Shooter broke away again and began sniffing Diamond’s shoe, then reared up on it’s haunches and began riding Diamond’s leg.

Looks like you’ve found a date for Saturday night, Bill chuckled. Diamond tried to shake him off but the dog bared its fangs and gave him a low guttural growl.

Careful, Officer Leslie warned. He’s been trained to go for the jewels.

Oh, Diamond said, the color draining from his face. He wanted to sit down but was afraid it would put him in a more vulnerable position.

Shooter! Heel! Leslie commanded but the dog turned its head and growled at her. You’re on your own, she said nervously, backing away towards the door.

Diamond shrugged and began walking around the room, dragging the dog in tow.

There’s something missing, Diamond said, looking at the long mahogany bar with brass railings.

What’s missing? Porter asked absently as he watched the detective drag the dog over by the bar.

Diamond reached up over the bar, leaning but not quite able to reach. One of the wine glasses is…..goddammed DOG! he shouted abruptly, shaking his leg one final time. The dog skittered over the floor taking the detective’s shoe with it. He whimpered before finally settling in and began chewing on the shoe.

Shooter lay in the corner, nose upon his paws. Eyes forlornly watching Detective Diamond as he continued his investigation. Diamond was aware of the dog’s eyes as well as those of the uniformed officers and his partner and officer Leslie as he walked around the room. He decided to bluff his way through it.

One of the wine glasses is missing, he said, watching the dog and trying to decide to retrieve his shoe or go on with the investigation. He decided to go with the latter and began limping in front of the bar as he spoke. Wine glasses like these come in sets, he continued. There’s ten in the rack and one on the bar. Where did the other one go?"

I don’t know, Bill said, shrugging his shoulders.

If we can find that wine glass, we will probably find our killer.

How so? Bill asked.

By the DNA! Diamond snapped. Don’t you watch t.v.?

I watch t.v., sir one of the young officers stepped forward eagerly.

Good, Diamond said. Would you please explain what DNA is to our esteemed colleague?

DNA is a characteristic that can be traced to a certain individual. That’s all I know, sir.

Port had his chin in his hand, thinking. Like fingerprints, he said, finally.

I think so, sir.

Diamond rolled his eyes. He knew full well that Bill knew what DNA was. He just enjoyed watching him stumble around in front of the other officers.

Maybe the killer is a wino. Maybe he only drinks his wine out of a brown paper sack. Then what?

I don’t know, sir, the young officer replied, put his eyes down to the floor and slid back into the corner.

You’re not helping! Diamond snapped at his partner.

Somebody needs a nap, Bill said under his breath but loud enough for the other officers to hear, who began chuckling. Diamond’s glare caused them to go silent.

Officer Leslie, take Shooter outside and see if he can sniff up anything. Shooter got up and went to his master at her command, then turned around to retrieve the shoe. Diamond snapped it up before he could.

Bill followed Diamond outside as he was hopping, putting on his shoe, making sure the detective didn’t see the smile on his face.

Diamond stopped and turned to the officers and said, You’re done here. Take Mister Bower down to the morgue.

We can’t, sir one of the officer’s replied.

Why not? Diamond asked, clearly at the end of his patience. It had been a long day.

It’s being remodeled, sir. The coroner decided the morgue needed to be repainted to brighten up the place a bit. Neutral colors, earth tones. So the dead could feel more comfortable before being put in the ground.

Well, do something with him, Diamond growled. We can’t just leave him here.

There’s an ice chest in front of the corner store, Bill said. Get the key off the owner and stick him in there.

Whatever, Diamond said, throwing up his arms.

Diamond and Porter came down the front steps in time to see Officer Leslie and the dog disappear around the side of the house. I think he’s got something, she said as he dragged her along.

Probably another leg, Bill deadpanned.

Shooter once again broke free from his master and ran across the lawn to the hedges lining the far side of the property.

The three officers gave chase coming up short and out of breath as Shooter growled into the hedge. He stuck his snout into the hedge, gave out a yip and pulled back with blood on his nose.

He found the cat, Diamond said.

Public Enemy Number One, Bill quipped.

That dog is about as bright as you, Diamond said dryly, looking at his partner as Officer Leslie stroked the dog trying to calm him down.

Shooter is extremely intelligent! Officer Leslie snapped, coming to his defense.

I trained him, myself. He’s just having a bad fur day.

Officer Leslie continued to pet the dog until he stopped whimpering. Give me your paw, she said to the dog who obeyed his master. She reached inside a pouch attached to her belt and gave him a treat. Good dog. Now roll over." The dog once again obeyed the command.

Now play dead, Bill said softly, fondling his gun.

You’d better take him to the vet, Diamond said. Make sure he doesn’t have rabies.

Yes, I suppose, the young female officer said, obviously disappointed. It’s a shame, though. I feel like I’ve learned so much, tonight.

Bill chuckled dryly. Diamond shot him a look and said, It’s okay. We’re almost done here.

You might need this, she said handing Shooter’s leash to Diamond, then smiling at his partner wryly.

"I’m sure we’ll be fine,’ Bill said contemptuously.

Officer Leslie hooked the leash to Shooter’s collar and led him to her car. Diamond and Porter rounded the corner just in time to see the young officers bring out the body of Biff Bower strapped to a dolly. Here’s your hat, Detective, One of the officer’s said handing him his fedora.

Thanks, Diamond responded, taking it and about to put it on his head and stopping at the last moment and just held it in his hands.

Officer Leslie put shooter into the caged in area in the back of her patrol car, then turned to the Detectives and said, I could drop him off and come back with some coffees.

Cream and sugar, Bill said sarcastically.

I’ve got so many ideas I’d like to discuss with you, she continued, ignoring him.

Type it up and have it on my desk first thing in the morning, Diamond said.

Really? she asked hopefully.

Really, Diamond said smiling and holding the car door open for her.

She got in and started the engine. Don’t forget to buckle up, Bill said sourly. It’s the law.

She closed the door then rolled down the window and looked wistfully at Diamond. First thing in the morning, then, she said.

First thing, he agreed.

She gave him one last smile, then headed off down the driveway. Bill stood there sullenly beside Diamond and said, Jesus, what a ditz.

I was just thinking the same thing, Diamond said. Get your camera.

For what? Bill asked.

I want to check out one last thing, Diamond said, turning on his flashlight. Hurry, he said to Bill. It’ll be daylight soon. I don’t want to lose the darkness.

Porter went to his trunk and retrieved the camera and followed Diamond around to the side of the house, shining his flashlight on the windowsill of the one window that looked in on the trophy room where they found the body. You think she’s any good?

Who? Diamond asked.

Leslie, Bill replied. Better than the dog, anyway?

I hope so, Diamond said softly, keeping his attention on the windowsill. He traced the beam of the flashlight down the side of the house and onto the ground. Hello, he said.

Hello, Porter replied. Now what?

"Diamond reached inside his coat pocket and brought out a pair of tweezers. He picked up something off the ground about the size of a dime.

What is it? Bill asked, holding out a plastic bag.

Paint chip, Diamond replied. Same color as the windowsill. Evidence bag? he asked Bill before dropping it in.

It is now, Bill said. This afternoon it was a sandwich bag. I’m just like Macgyver.

Diamond ran his fingers lightly over the windowsill. Tacky, he said as he pulled them back and examined them under the flashlight to reveal a tinge of green. This has been freshly painted. Maybe two hours ago."

But the window’s locked from the inside, Bill argued.

It is now, Diamond said. But maybe not two hours ago. He shined the flashlight on the wet mulch just below the window. It had rained the previous night and the ground was still soft. What’s this?

What? Bill asked.

A footprint, Diamond replied. What size would you say this is?

I don’t know, Bill said. Ten, ten and a half.

There’s no tread, Diamond said. Just like bowling shoes. Our perp was either a burglar that was extremely clever or a bowler who wasn’t.

Oxymoron, Bill grumbled under his breath.

What? Diamond said. When Bill only shook his head, he said, That thing got a flash on it? nodding to the camera that hung around his neck. He acknowledged that it did. Diamond lifted his foot a few inches above the footprint and said, Take a picture for comparison.

Bill lifted the camera to eye level and the flash went off in Diamond’s eyes who lost his balance and obliterated the footprint. Bill took a picture of the new footprint. He wasn’t really incompetent. He was just an asshole. This came out nicely," he said, showing the Polaroid to Diamond as it came out of the camera.

CHAPTER 2

BOWLERVILLE

L ess than a week earlier, Officer Jack Diamond had just finished his shift, walking the beat. It was just past noon and the temperature now hovered around ninety degrees. He was hot, sweaty, and his feet hurt. He walked up the precinct stairs, through the doors, and into the inner chamber. He nodded to the desk sergeant as he passed, the sergeant nodded in response.

He made his way down to the locker room in the basement. Normally, he would wait until he got home to shower but today he felt especially sticky.

Diamond came out of the shower wearing only a towel around his neck and a pair of shower shoes, which were actually a well-worn pair of flip-flops. He hadn’t expected anybody else to be in the locker room at this time of day. Nobody of importance, anyway.

He heard a voice say, Hey, rookie. Diamond was far from a rookie, having walked the beat every day for the past twenty years so he ignored it.

I’m talking to you, the voice growled. This time it caught his attention. The voice belonged to acting-Chief Homicide Detective Bill Porter. Normally, Diamond would give Porter a wide berth and avoid him like the plague but there was something in his tone that made him pay heed.

Porter stood leaning against the lockers, smoking an unfiltered Camel cigarette. He wore a brown suede jacket and a turquoise shirt opened at the collar, revealing a gold chain around his neck. It was something he called ‘bling’. It stood out in deep contrast to his dark tan that he had obviously received from countless hours in a tanning bed, Diamond rarely saw him outside in the sunlight.

He also wore brown corduroy pants and snake-skin boots. On each wrist he wore identical imitation Rolex watches. He once stated that he wore two watches to see if his left hand was as fast as his right. His appearance was completed with his close-cropped blond hair and pencil-thin mustache topped with a pair of rose-colored sunglasses which he always wore inside. He also drove a red Porsche convertible with vanity plates that read: BADASS.

You’re not supposed to be smoking in here, Diamond said, drying off.

What are you, a cop? Porter replied, tossing the unfinished cigarette on the cement floor and stubbing it out with the toe of his boot. Before Diamond could respond, he said, The captain’s looking for you. I wouldn’t keep him waiting.

Diamond went to his locker where he kept his street clothes alongside his dress blues. Porter pressed the toe of his boot against the locker door and said, You don’t have time for that. He wants to see you now! Something about a promotion. He says if you’re not there in the next five minutes he’s going to offer it to someone else. He looked at one of his watches and added, That was four minutes ago.

Instinctively, Diamond wrapped the towel around himself and headed for the stairs. Porter quickly reached out and snatched it from him.

Hey! Diamond cried.

Move it! Porter ordered. Chop chop! He twisted the towel and snapped Diamond twice on the buttocks on his way up the stairs. Diamond yelped but kept moving.

You’re not going to get it. It’s just a formality, Porter called after him once he was out of earshot. He smirked as he watched Diamond’s tan line bounce up the stairs. He lit another cigarette and muttered, That should seal it.

Promotion? Diamond thought wildly as he burst through the inner door. The only thing posted on the bulletin board recently was for the position of Chief Homicide Investigator. Detective Porter was earmarked for that position. Everybody knew that. He had already assumed the active duties two months ago.

In fact, two of Diamond’s brethren had applied for the position earlier in the week and had been laughed out of the office. Rumor had it that the position had been offered to a couple of officers outside of the precinct but when they saw the pay scale, they had turned it down. They would have had to take a pay cut.

Diamond had been walking the beat for nearly twenty years, fresh out of the academy. He was happy doing it, most days. It helped keep his weight down. Rarely did he ever think what his future might hold or beyond what he was going to have for lunch tomorrow.

Diamond weaved his way through the desks that were scattered about the squad room on his way to the captain’s office, causing most of his co-workers to do a double-take and send out more than a few catcalls and wolf-whistles.

Diamond knocked lightly on the captain’s door, then stepped inside without waiting for a response to escape the cat calls. Captain Steadman was sitting at his desk going over paperwork. He glanced up at the person who had just entered his office and then back down at the paperwork. When what he saw had registered, he looked back up again and cleared his throat. Officer Diamond?

Yes, sir, Diamond replied. He was busy closing the blinds to keep out the on-lookers who had crowded outside the door, Captain Steadman had pushed his chair back up against the wall so hard that several diplomas and citations that were hung there rattled and fell to the floor.

May I ask the meaning of this? the captain said.

I was told you wanted to see me immediately, sir.

Yes. Just not this much of you, the captain replied.

Jack Diamond was six-foot-five, weighed two-hundred and eighty-five pounds, and normally stood out in a crowd during normal circumstances. These were far from normal circumstances.

My apologies, sir.

The captain waved his hand dismissively. Why are your cheeks so red, officer?

Because I’m embarrassed, sir, Diamond replied.

I’m talking about the welts on your ass cheeks, officer, the captain said.

Towel fight, sir. I lost.

Porter? the captain asked.

I’m not at liberty to say, sir.

I believe you just did, the captain sighed. Where are your clothes, officer?

In my locker, sir.

Yes, well this is most unusual but I don’t have a lot of time. Have a seat, Officer Diamond, he said, gesturing to a leather chair across from his desk.

Diamond stepped forward and sat down in the leather-bound chair. The chair let out a ‘floof’ and a squeal as it bonded with his bare skin. Too late did he realize that the chair had been baking in the hot summer sun through the window for the past three hours. It felt like sitting on a hot car fender on a scorching day but he did his best not to complain.

Captain Steadman had a birds-eye view of Diamond’s appendages and averted his eyes to the bookshelf in the corner. Officer Diamond, this is a little awkward, he said. Could you cover yourself, please?

Yes, sir, Diamond said and grabbed the closest thing to him. On the captain’s desk stood two 5X7 photographs in identical frames. The one on the left was a photograph of Captain Steadman’s beloved cocker spaniel named ‘Trixie’. The other photo was of the captain’s blushing bride of three months, who was also named ‘Trixie’. Each frame was embossed with a small plaque that read My Pet.

Diamond grabbed the one closest, which was the bride, and placed it over his genitalia. Captain Steadman looked at the back of the picture frame. It was too easy to envision his bride’s countenance hovering over the officer’s private parts.

Turn it around, for godsakes! he bawled finally, unable to take it anymore Embarrassed, Diamond flipped the picture over. Now, Captain Steadman was once again looking into his bride’s blue eyes. It appeared the blushing bride was now blushing furiously. Before, he thought her lips were pursed, as if she were blowing him a kiss. Now, they appeared to be ‘o’ shaped. Her eyes which had once looked wondrous and loving, now looked piercing and condemning. Like they were comparing him, somehow. Her expression had seemed to change, subtly. But that wasn’t possible, was it? He rolled his chair back a little more and breathed a sigh of relief. Now, he couldn’t see his wife’s piercing gaze or what they covered up. He could only see the officer from the chest up and while it was still unsettling, it was better than what he was looking at before.

He opened up the folder on his desk. It was the file on Officer Jack Diamond. There were only three neatly typed pages. Not much to show for twenty years of service. The captain studied the document carefully before setting it back down and closing the folder He sat back in his chair with his hands behind his head and scrutinized the detective. Diamond began to fidget, unaccustomed to the attention.

The captain went over the fine points of Diamond’s career, which had included talking a man down from jumping off a four-story building, (Diamond knew the details but didn’t expound. The fact that there had been a trampoline on the ground and Diamond had talked him down multiple times. The last time, Diamond guided him safely down where he had missed the trampoline and suffered multiple breaks and fractures but he had survived. That was the important thing.), delivering a baby in the back of a taxi-cab during rush hour. (the driver had run off because the woman’s screams had frightened him. Diamond had ordered the father, who was also terrified, to get some clean sheets and hot water. The father had stripped off his white tee-shirt and handed it to Diamond. For the hot water, he popped the hood of the running cab and took off the pressure cap from the radiator. He suffered scalding third-degree burns while doing this. By the time the paramedics had arrived, Diamond was holding a bouncing baby boy in his arms. The paramedics took mother, son, and father to the hospital.) and solving the robbery of a liquor store drive-thru where there were no surveillance cameras and no eye-witnesses. (the attendant had dived under the table after he had handed over three bottles of Jack Daniels and the contents of the cash register to avoid being shot. He had failed to see the make, model or even the license plate of the vehicle. Diamond had arrived on the scene the following morning during his routine patrol, and determined that no other vehicles had gone through the drive-thru since the incident. The attendant, while still under the table, told Diamond that the perpetrator had a gun and was wearing a ski mask. When the vehicle peeled out, he dove under the table and had been there since. On a whim, Diamond went outside to survey the crime scene. The drive-thru was made of crushed rock but the attendant had told him the vehicle had squealed out. Diamond looked around and found a rock with fresh rubber imbedded. He walked around and gathered all of the rocks that had rubber on them, placed them in a wheelbarrow and pushed it to the squad room where he placed them on a table and put the pieces together like a jigsaw puzzle. This took three days to complete but when they were all together it was determined that the tire track came from a B.F. Goodrich model. Diamond knew the size of the tire from the mold and walked around town to each tire dealer until he found where that particular model and size had been sold. The car had been repainted after the crime but it was of little consequence. Thieves sometimes repainted their vehicle after they used it to commit a crime but rarely thought to change the tires. The fact that the mayor’s son had purchased the vehicle two full days after the robbery was also of little consequence. Diamond had done his job. Now, it was up to the mayor’s attorneys to do theirs.)

The captain smiled when he recalled that incident. He and the mayor had been at odds for years. Finally, the captain said, What do you want out of life, Officer Diamond?

To survive it, sir.

Jesus, if only we could, the captain replied. He smiled and said, You’re pragmatic, Officer Diamond. That’s one of the things I like about you. You’re practical. You don’t expect magical things to happen without a little hard work. I wish more of my officers were like you.

Thank you, sir.

What do you think of this department, Officer Diamond? Of this office, in particular. I assume you’ve heard of me even though we’ve never officially met before today.

I’ve heard that you’re a tough son of a bitch, sir, Diamond replied, easing back into his chair.

Really? The superintendent’s smile came back and began to spread. He was clearly liking the assessment.

Actually, I’ve just heard that you’re a son of a bitch, sir. I assumed the tough part.

Captain Steadman glanced up at the clock. It had only been fifteen minutes since Diamond’s entrance but it seemed a lot longer than that. Well, he sighed. Let’s get to it. Do you know why I’ve called you in here, Officer Diamond?

Something about a promotion, Sir? Diamond thought he might have two chances at a promotion before this debacle. Slim and none. Now it was almost certainly ‘Zilch’ and ‘Nada’.

Captain Steadman smiled and said, You’ve shown me something here today, Officer Diamond.

Again, sir. My apologies. That was not my intention.

That’s not what I meant, the captain replied, closing his eyes against a headache. He tapped the folder on his desk with his forefinger. Your record…..along with your appearance here, today, show me you have an aptitude of getting things done no matter how difficult the circumstances. You have intestinal fortitude. You have…. He paused for a moment, looking up at the ceiling, trying to come up with the right word for what he wanted to say.

Balls, sir? Diamond finished for him.

Yes. Well, I was hoping to avoid that phrase considering the circumstances. Conviction. That’s what I was looking for. You have conviction for getting the job done.

Thank you, sir.

"There is currently an open position available. That of Chief Homicide Investigator. I have gone through everybody’s files and have come up with only two qualified candidates. Yourself and