sayinâ. Anyway, weâre still waiting on the ME.â
Chris nodded. âAll right, weâll be careful.â
He and Tonio donned latex gloves and pulled covers over their shoes. Then they made their way inside, where Chris saw that Jenk was rightâthe house was a disaster. At least the living room was. Lamps were on the floor, smashed, as were picture frames, books, magazines, and various knickknacks. A fight had taken place, and every item in the battle zone had fallen victim.
The
real
victim was sprawled in the middle of the mess on the living room floor, next to the mangled coffee table. The man appeared to be about seventy years old and was wearing jeans and a polo shirt. He was lying in a huge pool of blood that spread from his abdomen, head turned to the side, eyes wide and sightless.
Chris looked around. âI donât see a murder weapon yet.â
âMe, neither. Could be underneath his body. Weâll have to wait for Eden.â
Walking into the kitchen, Chris examined a stack of mail, all addressed to the same man. âEdward Burke. Heâs got junk, bills, and a social security check. His wallet is on the table.â Picking it up, he examined the contents carefully. âIt has more than a hundred dollars cash inside.â
âSo, assuming nothing else is missing, it would appear that robbery is not the motive.â
âSeems so, which is weird.â
âRight? Why break in if not to steal something?â Tonio frowned as he took in the scene.
âReminds me of what Mr. Fell told us about the burglary at his home. Front entry in broad daylight, items moved slightly but nothing taken.â Retracing his steps to the open front door, Chris examined the doorframe and was gratified to see deep gouges in the wood.
âBingo. Our perp jimmied the door.â
Tonio pointed to a couple of items on a side table that had survived the scuffle. âThis picture and the figurine beside it were moved. See the dust?â
He walked over to examine them. âYep. What the hell is he getting out of this? And why commit murder over a simple break and enter? Why not just run away when he heard the owner come home?â
âBeats me. But weâre gonna find out when we bust his ass and toss him in prison.â
A search of the rest of the house turned up zilch. As they exited to stand on the front porch, Jenk hurried, waving an arm.
âWe found something back here youâll want to see.â
Curious, Chris followed. The other officer, Troy Hillman, was already there, standing next to a grassy patch beyond the borders of the yard. When Chris drew closer, Hillman pointed to a slender object on the ground.
It was a small glass vial with a rubber top and a tiny hole for a needle to be pushed into, the kind one might find in a doctorâs office. Crouching, he saw it was almost full of clear liquid. Rolling it gently with a latex-covered finger, he saw there was no label.
âOver here, too,â Jenk said, hitching a thumb.
A few feet away from the vial was a syringe. The cap was still on, and unlike the vial, there was nothing in the reservoir. Chris speculated out loud. âDoesnât look like itâs been used. Wonder if our suspect dropped these. Could be he broke in the front, crept around doing whatever he does, was surprised by the home owner, and they fought. He killed the victim and fled around the back, dropping these.â
âItâs as good a theory as any,â Tonio said. âThe vial and syringe might shed some light on what his game is.â
âOr they could add more questions.â Chris sighed. âLetâs bag âem.â
Tonio pulled a couple of baggies from his pants pocket and sealed them separately. By the time theyâd walked back to the front, Medical Examiner Laura Eden and the departmentâs forensics unit were on-site doing their thing. Chris and Tonio went inside the house again to
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