Role Play Board: The Body pt. 3

The Body pt. 3

Posted by The Spectre (Spectre) on 6/24/2008, 9:36 pm
68.53.234.134

Jim kept checking his watch as he headed back up stairs, it was 12:54 at last check. Their was no doubt that this was curious behavior, warranting well... a warrant. And for that he needed to talk to the ranking commissioner, Jim Davis.

-3:47 PM, Haven Crest community-

The housing complex looked like something from a t.v. series, Desperate Housewives maybe? One thing for sure is that it looked far to expensive for a middle class working man killed in the back alleys of New York. Neither the Gonzales/Anderson man or his wife/not wife had criminal record, Angela Anderson wasn't employed, so how could they afford this on one salary, and no illegal income?

Most of the hoses looked fairly similar, every-so-often a hose would have a two car garage, brick instead of siding, or just be a bit bigger than the previous few. It seemed like on every row of housing their was one that stuck out above the others, two full stories, three car garage, fancy brick work with a patio that did a 180 around one side of the house. The Anderson's was one of such lavish houses.

"Woof! For a clean guy, this Gonzonderson," A surname that Jessie had coined to make light of the dead man's dual identity. "...he was living pretty high on the hog."

Jim could think of nothing to add, so he just starred on in awe at the mammoth of a house as they pulled into the driveway. They could tell from their approach via their patrol car that the lawn was especially ritzy, like something that you'd see on the cover of Home and Garden. But it wasn't until they started the trek up the meticulously laid out paver stone walk way that they noticed all the intricately designed birdbaths, miniature windmills and water fountains that peppered the landscaping of their front yard. These Anderson's or Gonzales', which ever they were, were well off indeed.

Their was nothing in the driveway or garages when they arrived in the way of transportation, so the Detectives naturally assumed that the house was emptied. The locked door knob on the door confirmed their assumption. Jim slowly knelt down, hiking up his pant leg a few inches to grant him access to the lock pick devise that he always carried. The tool had been a gift from a guy he knew in S.W.A.T., they would use a similar devise when using a battering ram to get a door open wasn't exactly the most subtle means of entrance. Jim used it whenever he needed to avoid either large scale security systems as the Anderson/Gonzales' no doubt had, it served as a bonus that it left the door in one piece as opposed to several fragmented pieces. "What the heck is that thing, MacGuyver?"

Jim let out a half chuckle as he shook his head. "Look and learn...." his hand gripped firmly to the ornate brass knob as the slender, knife life blade entered the key hole. Jim twisted it ever so slightly one direction, and then the next. At the right moment twisting the door knob. "Just watch and.." click "...learn." The inside of the house was full of furnature, and art, pictures and magazines, the things you'd expect from a comfortably living, wealthy family. Not what you'd expect from someone trying to evade the police for as yet, unknown reasons.

"Angela Anderson?" Jim called out to the vacant house.

Jessie Harper joined in. "This is detective Harper and Corrigan, We have some questions for you." you, you, you. his voice came back at him off the walls. Detective Corrigan noticed a sound coming from a room upstairs, a sound of silence, if that makes any sense? The sort of eerie emission that's just enough to cut the air, the way a television does when it's left on a blank screen. And then, something else...

"I'll be down in a moment, I just stepped out of the shower. Make yourself comfortable in the living room if you'd like."

The daughter? No, the voice sounded more adult, but their was no car out front. The same uncaring voice that was on the phone.

"Thank you Ms. Anderson, we just came buy for some routine police work, please take your time." Jessie reassured her.

"Yea, getting dressed as we speak." Something about that voice was unnerving Jim Corrigan. Calm, calculated, no emotion, like...

Jessie browsed through the magazines that littered the coffee table in the living area when Jim got an odd idea....

"That's a hell of a lot of Cocaine you've got in the fridge!" Corrigan yelled whimsically, testing an idea that popped into his head.

"Yes, I'll be down in a minute." This time the voice chilled Jim to the bone, and he knew he was right, this was some sort of high tech recording. Jessie was now up off the couch with a puzzled look on his face.

"Out the front door, now!" Both detectives bolted toward the door as fast as they could, Jim in the lead as they made their hasty exit. When Jim took a look back he just caught the image of his hefty partner barrelling out of the lavish front door when...BLAM! An explosion ripped through the ground level, and sent shrapnel flying along the previously pristine landscape, and sending Jessie rolling through across the paved semi circle drive. Detective Corrigan managed to crawl to the passenger side door, and get it flung open with his torso inside when a second resounding blast came from within the house's foundation. His hearing hadn't returned yet when he'd jerked his CB out of it's small compartment, and shouted into.

"418 ON EAST PRIMROSE, ADDRESS 41123! I REPEAT OFFICER DOWN!