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Authors: Dennis Meredith
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behind the couch and held up a pair of men’s black bikini briefs. “Real amazing, I’d say. The explosion must’ve blown off your cute little shorts without even taking your pants. Just real amazin’.”
Balch tried to stammer out an answer and Anna Mercer blushed and clutched the coat tighter around her neck with both hands.
“Look,” she said. “I’ll admit. We weren’t exactly … well … engaged in a business meeting. He thinks maybe his—”
“Shut up, Anna,” spat the man. “We don’t know anything about this thing.”
“ You shut up, pal,” said Cameron, jutting his face forward for emphasis. He nodded at Mercer to continue.
“Like I told you earlier. He thinks his wife did it.”
“I don’t have to take this shit!” Balch leaned forward to go, grimacing as he pulled himself off the couch. Gaston picked up on the cue.
“Are you hurt?”
Balch shook his head emphatically, but Gaston’s antenna had gotten the signal. He asked Balch to take off his suit jacket, and after a moment of indecision, Balch did so, revealing a crease of dried blood staining the white shirt across his back.
“Look, I just tripped,” said Balch.
“My butt,” offered Cameron. “You’re not cooperating with us. We’re taking you downtown.”
“Okay, don’t do that. I just figured if I was taken to the hospital, my wife would find out.”
Gaston and Cameron zeroed in on Balch, and for the next hour learned the real story of what had happened, including being sucked into the hole. Mercer mimed how she had yanked at Balch until he had popped out. Taking careful notes, Gaston managed to fill in other important details of the whooshing explosion and the decompression they had experienced.
There was a noise at the door, and they all looked up to see a skinny, slightly stooped man in his late fifties with short, thinning grey hair. Lieutenant Buddy Barnes’ stained suit looked as old as he did, but what distinguished Barnes this day was an angry scowl that incorporated every wrinkle in his small face. Standing beside him, the burly cop showed a mixture of tension at the lieutenant’s appearance and relief that he would not be the object of wrath.
Barnes said nothing, but flipped his head, indicating that the two criminalists were to come outside the room. Without waiting, he stalked away down the hall to an empty conference room. Gaston and Cameron followed him in and he whirled around, his jaw clenched.
“What the fuck were you two clowns doing?” he shouted, advancing to within inches of their faces. “You’ve done the same thing I fuckin’ told you not to do before! You’re the goddamned lab boys! I’m the goddamned officer in charge! I’ll interview the goddamned witnesses! You got that?” He looked back and forth from face to face. Gaston looked back at him calmly, and Cameron seemed fully ready to enjoy what he knew would happen next. Gaston spoke first.
“We needed details you would have—”
“I’ll get the goddamned witness details, and you’ll just gather information, do you hear me?” He reined himself in. He was smart enough to realize that this case might hinge on lab results. And he knew Gaston and Cameron were untouchable for the moment. They’d solved a lot of high-profile cases. But there would come a time when they would be vulnerable. “Just tell me what you got.”
Unperturbed, Gaston sorted through his notes and Cameron opened his notebook with the measurements.
“Hole’s the same size all the way through. Exactly 38 centimeters,” said Cameron. “Also at the same angle, a couple of degrees from horizontal. It’s all one hole made by a single … uh … well, we don’t know what.” He went on to detail the measurements. Then Gaston outlined what they had to do back at the lab — mainly chemical analyses for explosive residue and microscopic studies of the surfaces to detect marks that would indicate the kind of projectile.
“So what the fuck do I tell the
Balch tried to stammer out an answer and Anna Mercer blushed and clutched the coat tighter around her neck with both hands.
“Look,” she said. “I’ll admit. We weren’t exactly … well … engaged in a business meeting. He thinks maybe his—”
“Shut up, Anna,” spat the man. “We don’t know anything about this thing.”
“ You shut up, pal,” said Cameron, jutting his face forward for emphasis. He nodded at Mercer to continue.
“Like I told you earlier. He thinks his wife did it.”
“I don’t have to take this shit!” Balch leaned forward to go, grimacing as he pulled himself off the couch. Gaston picked up on the cue.
“Are you hurt?”
Balch shook his head emphatically, but Gaston’s antenna had gotten the signal. He asked Balch to take off his suit jacket, and after a moment of indecision, Balch did so, revealing a crease of dried blood staining the white shirt across his back.
“Look, I just tripped,” said Balch.
“My butt,” offered Cameron. “You’re not cooperating with us. We’re taking you downtown.”
“Okay, don’t do that. I just figured if I was taken to the hospital, my wife would find out.”
Gaston and Cameron zeroed in on Balch, and for the next hour learned the real story of what had happened, including being sucked into the hole. Mercer mimed how she had yanked at Balch until he had popped out. Taking careful notes, Gaston managed to fill in other important details of the whooshing explosion and the decompression they had experienced.
There was a noise at the door, and they all looked up to see a skinny, slightly stooped man in his late fifties with short, thinning grey hair. Lieutenant Buddy Barnes’ stained suit looked as old as he did, but what distinguished Barnes this day was an angry scowl that incorporated every wrinkle in his small face. Standing beside him, the burly cop showed a mixture of tension at the lieutenant’s appearance and relief that he would not be the object of wrath.
Barnes said nothing, but flipped his head, indicating that the two criminalists were to come outside the room. Without waiting, he stalked away down the hall to an empty conference room. Gaston and Cameron followed him in and he whirled around, his jaw clenched.
“What the fuck were you two clowns doing?” he shouted, advancing to within inches of their faces. “You’ve done the same thing I fuckin’ told you not to do before! You’re the goddamned lab boys! I’m the goddamned officer in charge! I’ll interview the goddamned witnesses! You got that?” He looked back and forth from face to face. Gaston looked back at him calmly, and Cameron seemed fully ready to enjoy what he knew would happen next. Gaston spoke first.
“We needed details you would have—”
“I’ll get the goddamned witness details, and you’ll just gather information, do you hear me?” He reined himself in. He was smart enough to realize that this case might hinge on lab results. And he knew Gaston and Cameron were untouchable for the moment. They’d solved a lot of high-profile cases. But there would come a time when they would be vulnerable. “Just tell me what you got.”
Unperturbed, Gaston sorted through his notes and Cameron opened his notebook with the measurements.
“Hole’s the same size all the way through. Exactly 38 centimeters,” said Cameron. “Also at the same angle, a couple of degrees from horizontal. It’s all one hole made by a single … uh … well, we don’t know what.” He went on to detail the measurements. Then Gaston outlined what they had to do back at the lab — mainly chemical analyses for explosive residue and microscopic studies of the surfaces to detect marks that would indicate the kind of projectile.
“So what the fuck do I tell the
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