Square Snapper (Detective Inspector Burgess) (6 page)

Chapter 12

Back in his office, D.I. Burgess had assembled his team. They had turned a small conference room into a “murder room” complete with a large whiteboard ready for them to note all their findings and theories. Various photographs of the victims and crime scenes were already in evidence on the board. Archie, Pamela Zuill, Sergeant De Souza and several officers from Narcotics were present as well as the head of the Canadian forensics team, a woman by the name of Jan du Bois. Burgess introduced her to the other members and watched their reaction to her, pretending to consult his notebook. She had short hair cut almost in a Mohawk and wore shorts and a t-shirt with open sandals. Not what you would normally expect from a forensics specialist but, then again, define what a forensics specialist should look like. All he had heard was that she was a fine scientist and, apparently, after a couple of drinks was the life and soul of a party with a keen sense of humour and some hilarious work-related stories. He could certainly live with that.

He cleared his throat. “Let’s get started. So far we have nothing concrete but we do have a theory for the motive of Rhonda Mayberry’s murder.” He went on to explain what they had found at the beach and the “square snapper” drug importation theory. “Miss du Bois, can you give us anything further on the forensics?”

“Yes, Inspector. First of all, we managed to lift some partial prints from the spear gun but have yet to find a match on Canadian, U.S. or U.K. databases. We’ll start working with your neighbours to the south to see if there is anybody on file in the Islands. As far as the tyre treads are concerned, you were right. We have matched them to a pick-up truck. These particular tyres are more commonly found on the Suzuki, which I know is popular here. Unfortunately, there was nothing to tell us what colour but we believe, from the tyres, if they are the originals, the year is probably 2004. That should narrow down the search.”

Pamela wrote this information down on the whiteboard with a black magic marker. It squeaked in the silence as she wrote and the smell of the ink pervaded the air.

“Hopefully it will,” said De Souza. “We’ll have to liaise with TCD – that’s the Transport Control Department, Ma’am.” He looked across at Jan. “To see who the registered owners are of all the Suzuki pick-ups on the island. At least we can start with those that are 2004 models.”

Du Bois nodded. “As for the heroin overdoses, we found no prints on the works other than those of the user. The houses were full of prints from different people, but nothing that would point us in the direction of a specific person. We analysed the heroin and it’s been laced with strychnine. As I’m sure you can imagine, it’s not a pretty death. The samples we took from each victim both matched, so we’re looking at the same batch of drugs. I would anticipate you’ll be seeing more of this killer.”

There was a collective groan from the group. Already, there was the feeling that this was only the tip of the iceberg and that the island was going to receive a lot of negative publicity, if they couldn’t put a stop to its distribution. Naturally, any inability to immediately find a solution would be directed at the police. With Cup Match that coming weekend, there was going to be hell to pay.

Burgess smiled. “Jan, what can you tell us about strychnine. We’re not in the Narcotics Department and I, for one, am not familiar with how it is found.”

What made Jan du Bois such a sought-after forensic scientist by lawyers and police forces alike was her ability to talk to the lay person in terms that he or she would understand.

“Strychnine,” she began, “is a deadly alkaloid poison that affects the central nervous system. If you remember, the bodies we found displayed what we call a ‘risus sardonicus’, which is just a fancy way of saying a ‘grimace’ on their faces. Strychnine makes the muscles go into acute spasms which cause this grin-like expression with clamped jaws. The victim will also experience convulsions in the abdominal area which may cause vomiting. Death normally results from respiratory failure or just plain exhaustion from the spasms and convulsions. All in all, it’s not a pretty way to go.”

“What does the poison look like and where does it come from?”

“Excellent question, Archie. Strychnine is produced from the plant
Strychnos nux vomica
primarily found in countries in South Asia, such as India, Sri Lanka and the East Indies. Oh, and Australia too would you believe it?

It’s an odourless, white crystalline powder that can be taken by mouth, inhaled or mixed in a solution and given intravenously. It’s not often you find it in street drugs but it has been known to be mixed with LSD, heroin and cocaine. Today, it’s mostly used as a pesticide, particularly to kill rats.”

D.I. Burgess pretended to look at his notebook as he collected his thoughts. He then made his decision. He knew that speaking in measured tones would instill a sense of calm in his team, a calm which he did not feel. “We need to talk to the Police Communications Department and issue a warning to the public about this. We cannot afford to keep this to ourselves. There’s too much at stake. Pamela, will you liaise with them?”

“Yessir.”

“Also, Pamela, could you get on to TCD’s database and see if you can come up with Suzuki pick-up truck owners we can interview? Archie, you take three men from narcotics and go and speak to known dealers and informants in the Western Parishes. De Souza, call St. George’s and see if they can spare you three men for the Eastern Parishes. The rest of you can cover central parishes. Jan, let us know if you hear anything, anything at all, as to the identity of Miss Mayberry’s murderer. I’ll give you my cell phone number. I want to know right away. The parents are flying in as is the Canadian Consul General from New York. He would like to be able to give them a name by this evening.”

“Detective Gonzalez called from Dade County. Seems they’ve had a few heroin overdoses there too. One of his colleagues had just got back from a vacation here and commented on the fact we’d had some deaths. He called and, if my gut feeling is correct, I’ll bet the heroin will be poisoned with strychnine. Seems to me, it’s easy to import from Miami.”

Burgess was all action. “Pamela, will you let the Airport Police know and fill them in on the details? Also, call the Marine Police in case we get boats coming in at night. Anybody running without lights should be brought in for questioning.”

He exhaled loudly. “Now, Archie, brief us on the latest murder.”

Archie introduced PC Hollis to the team. PC Hollis had been the first to respond to the 911 call in Spanish Point.

“I don’t think Detective Sergeant Carmichael has forgiven me for ruining his dinner plans, but this was a particularly bloody crime scene. Seems like someone may have had an altercation with a Deon White of Spanish Point. There was blood everywhere and every sign that a body was dragged out of the house and disposed of by the truck parked in the yard. We’re not sure whether White did the killing or whether he’s the victim. Anyways, the perp took a sheet off the bed and left bloody prints on the remaining sheet, so that may help. We believe White is somehow involved because it’s his home and his family said he did not turn up for supper that evening. White is a known small time dope dealer. He’s been in and out of Southwall Prison. He works as a painter and part-time mechanic over at LYV on South Shore Road as part of their good corporate citizens program. We managed to process quite a bit of evidence and are just waiting to hear back from forensics. It’s not in his M.O. to be violent so it’s looking more like he may have been the victim of a brutal assault.” He looked over at Archie to continue.

Archie consulted his notebook and the “Burgess-like” action was not lost on the rest of the team. “Whoever it was used a bladed weapon of some sort. No sign of a knife, though. Seems there were several beer bottles, a lot of dope and two helmets at the scene - not to mention a lot of blood. In short, we should have enough DNA evidence to sink a ship. We reckon the killer, or killers, may have left in a hurry and didn’t think to clean up very well. We’re hoping their prints are on the bottles. If anybody finds anybody suspicious, approach with extreme caution and process them for blood spatters from the victim. They’ve got to have been covered in blood and, even if they shower, I bet we can still find something. We’re running on the assumption they were on bikes. There were no car tyre tracks evident, although there was the pick-up truck. I’m wondering if it could be a Suzuki. I’ll need to double-check that.” Archie suddenly sounded excited.

“One of my colleagues has been processing the scene,” interjected du Bois. “He should have something for us in an hour or so and I’ll call it in. I’ll ask him to check the make of the truck. Detective Sergeant Carmichael is right, if you find any suspects, look for any clothing or jewellery they might have discarded and call me, or one of our team, and we’ll come and process them when you get them in custody. Blood can remain in watch catches, seams of clothing and all sorts of places, so we might get lucky.”

“Thanks, said Burgess. “Anything else? Good work so far. Let’s get going… and be careful. These guys have tasted blood. You all have my cell phone, so call me the minute you know anything. If you can’t get me, then call Pamela.”

“I’ll be here all day,” said Pamela.

“We’ll call you ay-sap!” said Archie. They all laughed. Most of them knew the superintendent, at least by reputation, and it broke the tension.

Chapter 13

Detective Gonzalez put down the telephone.

“The detective handling the case called back to say that the heroin was laced with strychnine just like ours. Looks like our boys have gone international. They’re expecting more deaths over the weekend because it’s some national holiday or other. Believe me, they’re worried. Island’s only twenty-one square miles and apparently, over there, everybody knows everybody
and
their mother-in-law.”

“Wow, that would sure complicate things. Imagine trying to get people to testify in court if they all know each other. It’s bad enough here.”

“Yeah, nobody would ever get prosecuted!” Gonzalez’s mind was beginning to work overtime. “What if the drugs didn’t come through here but came from there? It could be the reverse. Aren’t they close to the Islands?”

“Failed geography, did ya?” quipped Hofstein. “Bermuda’s much further north. It’s not part of the Caribbean. It’s only about six hundred miles east of North Carolina. It’s stuck out there in the Atlantic; warmed by the Gulf Stream, if I remember right.”

“No shit. You’ve got that right.” Gonzalez wondered how they could work this case from Miami. He could see a trip to Bermuda might be on the books. Yes, it was good to dream.

Jan du Bois was excited. Her colleague had just informed her that the partial print on the spear gun had matched prints on the beer bottles from Deon White’s murder. It was looking more and more like Rhonda Mayberry had been killed by the same person. Could the two have been involved in her murder and one have eliminated the other? It seemed very probable. The attack on White had been so brutal that it looked as if they could have argued and then fought. She had better call this in to D.I. Burgess.

Burgess was delighted; another lead in the case. All they needed now was a name to the prints and perhaps they could really move forward. “This is great, Jan. Any news on the Caribbean databases yet? This guy has got to have a record somewhere. I just don’t see him turning from a model citizen into a murderer overnight.”

“Inspector, I have to agree. Somewhere, somebody knows this guy. Maybe we’ll get lucky with the informants or an anonymous tip.”

“Anyway, thanks Jan. Good work. Tell your colleague thanks from me.”

He hung up and wrote in his notebook.

Chapter 14

On his way to Spanish Point to interview the family of Deon White, Burgess wished he could have brought Pamela along with him. He knew this would be a difficult task and she was good at dealing with the “touchy feely” side of the job. He checked to make sure he had an extra handkerchief. He was pretty sure he would wind up offering it to one of the female family members. He had lost more handkerchiefs that way. As he approached the house, he noted that it could have used a paint job. The coral pink was wearing thin in places with stains where the damp showed through. The roof was grey and black instead of white. He made a mental note not to drink any water, if offered. All Bermuda houses collect rainwater on their roof which then runs into a tank under the house. For this reason Bermudians keep their roofs clean and painted white. In the old days they used a lime wash which would help to disinfect the rainwater. The mildew on the White’s roof was a big deterrent to Burgess. Nana would have been appalled. She kept her home immaculate. Burgess knocked on the door and heard a dog barking in the background.
God, I hope it
’
s not a pit bull and I hope it
’
s tied up.
Many drug dealers kept pit bulls for protection. Some even hid their dope in the dogs’ kennels, hoping that the police wouldn’t search there.