Read Online Weapons of Mass Distraction by Camilla Chafer - Free Book Online
Authors: Camilla Chafer
Ads: Link
bike, still lying on its side on the floor. I snapped a bunch of shots from different angles, not entirely certain what I was looking for. When I thought I was done, I lay my bag on the floor with the camera on top, just in case I needed it again.
I pulled on gloves and went in for a closer look at the bike. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. On my notepad, I made a note of the gear position, adding a memo to see if Michael could get a digital readout of its last workout. Perhaps the heart rate monitor could provide something useful? Or maybe Jim was pushing the gears harder than Anton requested? Perhaps he simply overdid it and something inside his body just gave out. That would account for a natural death.
A towel still draped over the handlebars. No water bottle. I couldn’t remember if I’d seen Jim holding one either. It would have been perilous to enter a class without one. Staying low to the floor, I looked around. There were a bunch of water bottles on the floor. Since any one of them could have been Jim’s, I collected all seven and bagged them. I left the small stack of evidence next to the doors so as not to forget it upon my exit.
Returning to Jim’s bike, I knelt down beside it. I started my examination with the stationary wheel and the mechanism. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Next the frame. Again, all seemed normal. The saddle was dry and I looked under it too. Nothing concealed. Finally I moved to the handlebars, which were set out in racing and normal riding formation. The towel was draped across the bars, concealing them, and since I’d already photographed it, I scooped it up and dropped it into another evidence bag. Turning back, I saw the strangest little thing. If I’d been standing over the bike, I would have missed it. But kneeling down, with the bike on its side, I had a clear view beneath the bars. I blinked and leaned forwards. Yes, on each bar were two thumbtacks, attached to the underside with the tiniest amount of tape, and almost impossible to see.
I reached for my camera and snapped a half dozen shots from the underside. Both bars together, then separately. Standing, I repeated the photo sequence from the top perspective.
When I was done, I set down the camera and stared at the bike. How would I get this piece of evidence back to the agency for analysis without destroying it? Knowing I was stuck, I reached for my cell phone and called Solomon.
“Sweetheart,” he said, upon answering the phone, and I knew he was alone.
“Darling,” I replied, smiling to myself, and restraining a giggle.
“What can I do for you?”
“Many, many things,” I replied in a husky voice.
“Any of these pertaining to the job?” asked Solomon, a teasing lilt to his voice.
“The current request is…” Oh, how I wanted to play with him, but there was a job to be done. I had something unexplainable, which made me doubt the natural death theory even more. “I found something odd,” I told him, quickly describing what it was.
“Any of the other bikes have something similar?”
“I haven’t checked them yet, but I will. I’m guessing, no. I’ve never seen anything like it. The thumbtacks look like they’re embedded into the handlebars; and if I pull the tape, I’m worried I could make a mess of the whole thing. Plus, I think I see a little smear of blood. And remember, Jim had a little cut on his thumb.”
“Hmmm.” Solomon paused and I waited for a genius idea. “Take off the handlebars,” he said finally. “I’ll get my forensics guy to go over it at his lab.”
“What? All of it? How?”
“Yep. Unscrew the lot and bring it in. You’re wearing gloves?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Make sure you don’t touch the bars themselves. I don’t like the sound of this.”
“Okay.”
“Do you have a large evidence bag?”
“A couple are in my kit.”
“Use them both and tape them shut. Catch you later.”
My breath caught. “Does that involve you chasing me?” I
I pulled on gloves and went in for a closer look at the bike. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. On my notepad, I made a note of the gear position, adding a memo to see if Michael could get a digital readout of its last workout. Perhaps the heart rate monitor could provide something useful? Or maybe Jim was pushing the gears harder than Anton requested? Perhaps he simply overdid it and something inside his body just gave out. That would account for a natural death.
A towel still draped over the handlebars. No water bottle. I couldn’t remember if I’d seen Jim holding one either. It would have been perilous to enter a class without one. Staying low to the floor, I looked around. There were a bunch of water bottles on the floor. Since any one of them could have been Jim’s, I collected all seven and bagged them. I left the small stack of evidence next to the doors so as not to forget it upon my exit.
Returning to Jim’s bike, I knelt down beside it. I started my examination with the stationary wheel and the mechanism. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Next the frame. Again, all seemed normal. The saddle was dry and I looked under it too. Nothing concealed. Finally I moved to the handlebars, which were set out in racing and normal riding formation. The towel was draped across the bars, concealing them, and since I’d already photographed it, I scooped it up and dropped it into another evidence bag. Turning back, I saw the strangest little thing. If I’d been standing over the bike, I would have missed it. But kneeling down, with the bike on its side, I had a clear view beneath the bars. I blinked and leaned forwards. Yes, on each bar were two thumbtacks, attached to the underside with the tiniest amount of tape, and almost impossible to see.
I reached for my camera and snapped a half dozen shots from the underside. Both bars together, then separately. Standing, I repeated the photo sequence from the top perspective.
When I was done, I set down the camera and stared at the bike. How would I get this piece of evidence back to the agency for analysis without destroying it? Knowing I was stuck, I reached for my cell phone and called Solomon.
“Sweetheart,” he said, upon answering the phone, and I knew he was alone.
“Darling,” I replied, smiling to myself, and restraining a giggle.
“What can I do for you?”
“Many, many things,” I replied in a husky voice.
“Any of these pertaining to the job?” asked Solomon, a teasing lilt to his voice.
“The current request is…” Oh, how I wanted to play with him, but there was a job to be done. I had something unexplainable, which made me doubt the natural death theory even more. “I found something odd,” I told him, quickly describing what it was.
“Any of the other bikes have something similar?”
“I haven’t checked them yet, but I will. I’m guessing, no. I’ve never seen anything like it. The thumbtacks look like they’re embedded into the handlebars; and if I pull the tape, I’m worried I could make a mess of the whole thing. Plus, I think I see a little smear of blood. And remember, Jim had a little cut on his thumb.”
“Hmmm.” Solomon paused and I waited for a genius idea. “Take off the handlebars,” he said finally. “I’ll get my forensics guy to go over it at his lab.”
“What? All of it? How?”
“Yep. Unscrew the lot and bring it in. You’re wearing gloves?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Make sure you don’t touch the bars themselves. I don’t like the sound of this.”
“Okay.”
“Do you have a large evidence bag?”
“A couple are in my kit.”
“Use them both and tape them shut. Catch you later.”
My breath caught. “Does that involve you chasing me?” I
Similar Books
