Murderous Profession

1

Miller! Chilowski! Captain Vera Espinoza called out as she walked out of her office. We got a murder on Morton Street. A couple of units are already at the scene. Victim is a white female, late twenties, early thirties. The crime scene team just got there.

Detective Eliza Miller looked up from the report she had been reading and nodded in acknowledgement as her superior dropped a slip of paper onto her desk. Okay, Captain. Billy and I will get over there as soon as possible.

Captain Espinoza gave her a curt nod then turned to go back into her office. Eliza blew out a long breath. Another murder on top of the two cases she already had? She didn’t know what was going on in the city, but she needed it to stop, at least until winter was over.

Morton’s over in Greenwich, isn’t it? Eliza’s partner Billy asked.

Eliza typed up a few notes. Yep.

Billy groaned, and she chuckled.

Oh, calm down. I don’t think it’s near the heart of the Village, so you’re safe from the neighborhood’s more eclectic residents.

Billy pretended to wipe sweat from his brow. Thank goodness. I’d hate to have to punch some hippie because they don’t know the definition of personal space.

Eliza chuckled quietly as she saved her work. "Billy, first of all, I don’t think they’re called hippies anymore. They’re hipsters. Secondly, you’ve dated several of them, and even tried to become vegan for one. Billy scowled at her, and Eliza grinned and added, So you should fit right in."

Billy stood up, yanked his coat off the back of his chair, and slipped it on. If you weren’t the only decent detective in this precinct, I’d ask for a new partner. You’re mean, verbally abusive, and just a terrible people person.

Eliza laughed as she got up and put on her coat as well. Murders in the dead of winter were the worst; even more so when the crime had taken place outside. The bitter cold and harsh wind made it difficult to concentrate. Eliza hoped this one was an indoor murder.

Any reason why the captain wants you on this one? Billy asked, interrupting Eliza’s mental grumblings.

As they made their way out of the bullpen, she replied, I may have told her that I was interested in moving up to sergeant. I think she wants to see if I can handle my caseload on top of the administrative work. Whatever her reason is, it’s a pain.

Billy grunted in disbelief. I don’t understand why you’d want to put yourself through that sort of hell.

Eliza shot him a deadpan glance, and Billy shook his head.

Right, cop’s kid. Following in the old man’s footsteps.

They walked out of the precinct, and Eliza immediately shoved her hands into the pockets of her coat and hunched her shoulders to ward off the cold. Hey, just because you’re in it for the money doesn’t mean you have to piss on my heritage.

They approached one of the unmarked police cars and got into it. As they settled into their seats, Billy said, Ha! If I was actually in it for the money, then I’d take that damn civil exam and become your boss. He grinned at Eliza as he started the car. Lucky for you, I suck at those exams and I like your stubborn ass too much.

I don’t think that means I’m lucky, Eliza muttered loud enough for him to hear.

Just for that, I’m going to let you freeze, Billy countered as he entered the address Captain Espinoza had given them into the car’s navigation system.

Eliza swatted his shoulder, then put the car’s heater on full blast, hoping the higher setting would warm the vehicle up sooner. The cold made her cranky, and being cranky while doing her job was not a good thing. She tended to snap at people.

◊◊◊

Fifteen minutes later, Billy was parallel parking into a spot a few buildings down from the one the murder had taken place in. Eliza surveyed the outside of apartment building with a careful eye. Several squad cars blocked off the front, and their flashing lights gave her an instant headache. The onlookers that had dared to come out into the cold to be nosy had been wrangled and moved to the other side of the street, where a few officers kept watch over them. Two more officers stood in front of the building to keep people from going inside. She spotted a NYPD crime scene van down the street.

Crime scene guys are still here.

Wanna wait? Billy asked.

Eliza exhaled a deep breath through her nose and contemplated the question. The call had come in thirty minutes ago, and the crime scene guys had probably been inside for the last fifteen or twenty minutes, so all the preliminary evidence should have been collected by now.

She pursed her lips, and after a couple seconds of going back and forth in her head, she nodded. Yeah, at this point they’re probably just going through the place.

She and Billy got out of the car, and after she closed her door, Eliza said, I hope it’s Jenna and not Devon. He gets mean when we ask to do a walkthrough before he’s finished.

Billy laughed as he joined her on the sidewalk. No, he doesn’t! He gets mad when you start asking questions he doesn’t have the answers to. You become an unrelenting pain in the ass, and at that point, you deserve his attitude.

Eliza pinned him down with an irritated stare. I’m requesting a new partner. She reluctantly pulled a hand out of her coat pocket and reached into the front left pocket of her jeans to get out her lip balm. The frown her lips had formed reminded her how bad the cold weather was on them. After putting some on, she shoved her hands and the tube of lip balm back into the fleece-lined pockets of her coat. Once upon a time, Eliza used to own gloves, but she had lost them doing something mundane—probably walking down the street—and had yet to go to the store and replace them.

She and Billy walked up to the five-story building and flashed their badges at the two officers blocking the entrance. After checking their credentials, one of the officers told them what floor the apartment was on.

Eliza thanked her, and she and Billy climbed the steps of the front stoop and entered the building. As they walked through the door, Eliza noticed the access panel that was installed in the wall to the left of the door. There was a camera mounted above the system, and a small monitor took up the space above the number pad in the panel. The security system was newer, and Eliza mentally noted that fact in her mind.

Despite its aged exterior, the inside of the building had been renovated recently, and had a more modern appearance. The lobby wasn’t big, but there was enough space for a small couch, a few plants, and a low coffee table that had old magazines and various takeout menus on it. Eliza scanned the area, taking in the framed black and white pictures of famous landmarks from around the city and the overall cleanliness. The building wasn’t a dump and seemed to be pretty secure. She began to formulate theories as she continued to look around.

She easily pinpointed the two security cameras that were mounted in the far left and right corners of the small lobby and saw that they were pointed directly at the main entrance of the building.

Billy, get us a warrant that’ll allow us to confiscate the security tapes and obtain access to the entry system’s footage as well, Eliza ordered, pointing out the cameras to him.

Sure thing. Billy took out his cell phone and placed a call to Captain Espinoza so she could make the request for the warrant. As he spoke with the captain, he and Eliza took the stairs up to the third floor of the building. When they reached it, figuring out which apartment the murder had taken place in wasn’t a difficult task. A group of uniformed officers and law enforcement officials were milling around the hallway outside one of the doorways, a clear indication of where Eliza and Billy needed to go.

Eliza took out her badge as she and Billy got closer to the group, Detectives Miller and Chilowski. We’ve been assigned to the case. Who’s leading crime scene?

An officer gestured towards the apartment with his head. Ferguson.

Eliza mentally swore at his response, but she thanked the officer for the information then turned to face Billy. Devon’s leading the crime scene team, she said in a low voice.

You want me to handle him? he asked as he slipped his phone back into his pants pocket.

Eliza shook her head. No. I want to take a look at the scene first. Why don’t you get the initial report from the officers?

Billy nodded and headed for the uniformed officers as Eliza went over to one of the crime scene techs and said, I need shoe coverings and gloves.

The woman, Daphne, smiled at her. Detective Miller, don’t you ever get a day off? She retrieved shoe coverings and gloves out of her kit and handed them to Eliza with a teasing smile.

Thank you. Eliza took the gloves and shoe coverings and shot Daphne a quick grin as she leaned against the wall to put on the shoe covers. You know there is no such thing as a day off for me. Is Devon still making you play his backup? she said as she put a covering over her right boot.

Daphne rolled her eyes and let out a frustrated breath. He doesn’t think I’m ready to handle a scene, which is absurd. I’ve been working with the team for almost a year now.

That’s because he’s an insufferable control freak, Eliza muttered under her breath as she finished covering her left boot.

As she stood up straight, Eliza noticed Daphne’s left eyebrow had quirked up, which meant her grumbling hadn’t been as quiet as she thought. She forced a smile onto her face. Is he at least in a good mood?

Daphne opened her mouth then closed it. The non-response told Eliza everything she needed to know; Devon was being a douchebag.

Fucking wonderful. Billy.

Billy held up a finger to the officer he was speaking with and excused himself, walking over to where Eliza was. What’s up?

Devon is in a dick mood, and there is a chance I might deck him. Gear up and come in with me.

Billy grimaced.

All you need to do is talk to him while I look at the scene, Eliza explained as she moved towards the entrance of the apartment. When she didn’t hear any movement behind her, Eliza turned around. Billy still stood in the middle of the hallway, apprehension written as clear as day on his face. It took Eliza a second to figure out what his problem was, and when she did, she exclaimed, You can’t be serious!

The body is still in there, Eliza! You know dead bodies make me squeamish, Billy argued.

She did know that, but it wouldn’t change her mind. Eliza closed the gap between them and whispered, I don’t care if there are ten dead bodies in there; you’re coming into this apartment with me. I refuse to get written up for punching a crime scene investigator. Got it?

Or you could just not punch Devon, Billy countered. That sounds like a logical—

If you don’t get your ass in gear, I’m going to tell the captain about this, and she will not be happy, Eliza threatened. You’re already on her shit list for avoiding the crime scene on our last case.

After Captain Espinoza had read the report and found out that Eliza had gone into the scene alone, she had given Billy a reaming he would probably never forget—or so Eliza hoped, because she sure hadn’t.

Billy glared at her. You are evil. He let out an indignant huff and asked Daphne for a set of shoe coverings and a pair of gloves, snatching them from her as he continued to glare at Eliza like a petulant child.

They walked over to the entrance of the apartment, and Eliza waved her hand for Billy to speak. He scowled at her for a brief second, then cleared his throat and called out, Clear to enter?

As long as you’re covered! Devon shouted back.

Billy and Eliza glanced at each other, not knowing if he meant the full suit or just the basic coverings they already had on.

Shrugging, Eliza entered the apartment, and Billy followed, sulking behind her. Eliza rolled her eyes, annoyed by his behavior. She planned to deal with his tantrum like she would with any overgrown man-child that acted like a four-year-old, which was ignoring him. On her way into the apartment, Eliza examined the door jamb for any signs of forcible entry, but didn’t see any damage. Whoever killed the victim had either had a key or been allowed to enter.

The entryway gave Eliza a good view of the well-decorated apartment. It wasn’t big, but neither was it small; more cozy than anything. To Eliza’s left, there was an impressive flat-screen TV mounted on the wall, and she located the speakers for the surround-sound system in various spots around the living room. A black leather sofa and a matching black coffee table were the only other pieces of furniture in the room, but subtle pieces of abstract art hung beside the TV, adding some decoration to the walls.

Moving further into the apartment, Eliza glanced to her right and found the doorway for the kitchen. A wall blocked it off from the living area of the apartment, but a long rectangle had been cut out of it, and a counter had been installed into the space to create a breakfast bar. A bowl of fruit sat on top of it.

On the surface, nothing about the apartment seemed to be off, and it appeared as though a law-abiding citizen lived there, but Eliza knew better than to take things at face value in her line of work. She knew from experience that the darker details of a person’s life would emerge the deeper her investigation went. Eliza made a slow walk-through of the apartment and did a thorough survey of each area, noting any oddities that popped out to her.

When she reached the doorway of the bedroom, Eliza suddenly stopped in her tracks, making Billy walk into her. The room was bigger than her own, but she didn’t consider it massive. A king-sized bed was situated so that the head of it was against the wall opposite the bedroom door, and the rest of it jutted out into the center of the room. But it was the sight of the dead woman, whose upper body hung over the edge of the bed, that made Eliza to come to a sudden stop.

She stood rooted in the doorway staring at the body for another moment, then her investigative instinct took over and she entered the room. Mentally cataloging the desk sitting near the window and the nightstands on each side of the bed, she greeted the only person in the room.

Devon, she said in a clipped tone.

The older man glanced up at her from his spot in front of the body. Detective Miller.

He turned his head to look over at the doorway where Billy lingered, not daring to take a step into the room. Devon chuckled as he returned his attention to whatever he had been doing before. Still afraid of the dead, Chilowski?

"I’m not afraid of dead bodies, Billy snapped. They just creep me out."

Uh-huh.

Eliza went over to the desk, and Devon chided, "I said you could come in if you were properly covered. I haven’t gone through everything yet; I’m just finishing up with the body."

Eliza pulled on her latex gloves and picked up the leather planner sitting on the desk. You didn’t specify what ‘properly’ meant, and I thought I was covered enough.

Eliza, I’m not doing this with you tonight.

Then tell me what I need to know, and I’ll be out of your way, she said simply as she began to flip through the planner’s pages. Appointments filled the date boxes, but it was the notes that accompanied them didn’t make any sense to Eliza. The most she was able to discern was that they were either acronyms or abbreviations, possibly a mixture of both.

How about I tell you about the officers that traipsed through here without any regard for preserving the crime scene instead? Oh, then I could tell you about how they let the tech guys in here before I arrived because I was at another scene, and they let those idiots take the victim’s laptop and cell phone before I had a chance to check them for fingerprints or any other forensic evidence.

Eliza now understood why he was in a terrible mood, and she released an inaudible, weary sigh, annoyed by the interdepartmental bullshit. Devon, that’s not my problem. If the officers screwed up, you know who to report it to, and that’s not me. Now, can you please tell me about my victim?

His whining was irritating, and it aggravated Eliza that she had to listen to it. She frowned, remembering that she wasn’t even supposed to be talking to him; Billy was. She glanced at the bedroom doorway to see if he was still there, but she found it empty. Her lips pursing tightly, Eliza made a mental note to yell at him after they finished.

Devon muttered something under his breath, then said, Your victim is Angelique Robinson, twenty-seven, according to the license in her wallet, which we found in the nightstand on the right side of the bed. There is bruising around her neck to indicate possible strangulation, but there are also other markers of physical abuse. It’s hard to determine if they were there before the victim’s death or if they happened at time of death.

Eliza’s face scrunched up as confusion came over her. Why is that?

Devon stood up and expelled a long breath. Due to the victim’s occupation.

Not following where he was going, Eliza gestured for him to continue.

Devon looked at her with a flat stare. The victim was a licensed sex professional. I came across instruments of her trade while searching for hazardous items and identification. They led me to believe that she may have dabbled in BDSM and rougher sex. If the bruises on her body were there before, it narrows down the cause of death to strangulation, since the age of the bruises around her neck coincide with the onset of rigor. If the bruises on her body were sustained at the time of death, then we’ll need to examine the body further to determine how they played a part in her death, or if they were just a professional hazard, if you get my drift.

I do, Eliza stated brusquely as she stared down at Angelique’s body. When sex work was legalized, Eliza hadn’t been on board with the new laws. In some ways, she still wasn’t, but that was due to her own morals. She understood the arguments for and against legal sex work, and while she didn’t hide behind the standard religious rhetoric, Eliza couldn’t bring herself to be okay with it as a legitimate profession. To her, it seemed like an easy, desperate way to earn income, and the fact that there were people in society who willingly sold themselves for sex bothered her. She blamed her Catholic upbringing for her conservative stance on the issue.

So, we’re dealing with a client gone bad kinda situation, huh?

"I don’t know, Detective, you tell me, since that is your job," Devon sniped.

Eliza stared him down. The urge to call him a sniveling piece of shit sat on the tip of her tongue, but she swallowed it down. Once she felt like her composure and professionalism would hold, she said, Thank you for the information, Devon. When you have finished analyzing everything, can you make sure her appointment book gets to me, along with her client list if you find it? Please?

Being cordial towards him left a bitter taste in Eliza’s mouth, and she left the room after making her request. Had she remained in it, she would have called him something worse than that.

Shaking off her irritation, Eliza looked for Billy, and she found him standing in the middle of the kitchen with a stack of mail in his left hand. Where the fuck did you go? she snapped. "I told you to talk to him while I looked around, not the other way around."

Billy grimaced. It looked like you had everything under control. Before Eliza could go on a tirade, he held up a piece of mail. This is a letter from Pleasure Inc., and it’s postmarked with last Thursday’s date. It’s a reminder for Angelique’s mandatory six-month testing for them and the licensing board.

Eliza stared at him, waiting for Billy to say something that would make her forget about reporting him.

This firm is in Manhattan, and I think we should go check it out. It looks like she was affiliated with them.

Eliza’s scowl remained etched on her face, and her eyes continued to bore into Billy as she thought about his suggestion. It was a good starting point for them considering Angelique’s apartment didn’t have many clues, so it seemed Billy had earned his badge today.

She stared at him for another second, then glanced at her watch. It was almost seven. Eliza didn’t know if the place would be open or not; she didn’t know how sex firms operated.

Do you think they’re still open? she asked Billy doubtfully.

I’m not certain, but I don’t see any harm in checking it out, Billy said, sounding more relaxed than he should have been. Eliza may