I wander out the backdoor and notice a shed in the yard next door with a red Templar cross painted on the door. I see forensics skipped over the shed; the lock is still on it. But in their defense, it was next door, so they likely assumed it didn’t belong to Drake.
I head back to my car and grab a pair of bolt cutters from my trunk.
I always try to keep these handy for search warrants of things like sheds, gated properties, etcetera.
I cut through the lock sitting the cutters down and switch my flashlight back on. The light illuminates some kind of worktable, it reveals where he has been crafting his tools of sadism and death. I shine the light on the top shelves above the table, there’s a glass bottle with a cross on it.
Is that… holy water?
I grab the bottle off the shelf, its holy water! This is one crazy fuck we’re dealing with. There’s a discarded commando knife on the table soaked in blood. I pick up the blade, the blood is old probably from where he killed Jason’s wife.
Damn, that poor guy, I hope he’s okay.
Examining it closer, I grimace when I realize it’s a British commando knife. With a blade like this, I can only assume he was ex-British military. I saw a lot of British commandos carry these when I was a CID in Iraq. This is a bad combo: skilled in combat and a psychopath. However, on the bright side, I don’t feel so bad for him getting the drop on me now.
Strips of shiny new barbwire are sprawled out across the table. This shed was Drake’s personal armory he used to craft his instruments of death. I place the holy water and blade in evidence baggies and peel off the latex gloves.
On my way back to the station, I call Frank on my cell. “Go ahead, Lobos.”
“Sir, you need to hear this.”
“Damn it! I told you to go home and get some rest.”
“Yeah, later. Look, Drake was an ex-British Commando. I found a blood-stained British commando knife that was likely used to kill my partner’s wife.”
“If what you’re saying is true, this just made the bastard even more dangerous. Not only is he a psychopath, but he’s also a professionally trained psychopath. However, I am a glass half full kinda guy, so maybe he bought that from a gun show or a military surplus store.”
“Wishful thinking.” My voice bleak.
“What else did you find?”
“A cross engraved on a glass vial filled with holy water.”
“Holy water? Great, so he’s Van goddamn Helsing now? How did you come across this stuff?”
“The crime scene geeks never checked the shed next door. I broke the lock and had a peek.”
“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that. But anyway, get back to the station ASAP. Take that blade to Amber and then report to me.”
“One more thing, sir.”
“Shoot.”
“Something has been bothering me about the Sadir murders.”
“I think that murder disturbed everyone, Lobos.”
“Not what I meant. Drake has never used a gun on his victims, and this is the first time he has killed the children of the victims.”
“So, what are you saying? They’re two suspects now?”
“Yes. Drake killed the wife, and someone else killed the children.” Have forensics compare the gun Drake ditched in the park with the bullets dug out of the children. I bet you they’re not the same bullets.”
He sighs. “Alright, I will tell ballistics to get right on it. See you when you get here.”
***
The Medical Examiner is hovering over Mrs. Sadir’s body bringing back the concern for my partner’s well-being. “Hey, how’s it going, Amber. You know, it’s ironic your last name is Crow, and you’re hovering over a dead body, right?”
She looks up at me through her blue eyes and smiles. “Ah, nice to see you again, Devi. And yes, I get the irony; after all, I been doing this for 10 years with that name.”
I glance at the body. “Poor, gal.”
“Yes, sadly. This unfortunate lady was barely 35 years old, and her life was snatched from her. Did you ever meet her?”
“No, I never got the chance and never will.”
“Shame. Jason’s not coming down here is he?” she says, with a look of worry swimming in her eyes.
“No, he’s been reassigned to another case.”
“Oh, probably for the best then.” The last thing Jason needs is to see us hovering over his dead wife like a couple of vultures.
“I have an idea of what kind of blade was used on Mrs. Sadir.”
Her eyes widen. “Really?”
I hold up the bag with the knife. “A British commando knife.”
She pulls off her latex gloves and slides her hands into a fresh pair. She pulls the knife from the baggie and lines up with the wound. “The weapon seems to be consistent with the wounds. I’ll take it and have the blood tested on it just to be 100% sure.”
“Thanks, Amber. I have to go talk to the boss man upstairs.”
“Not a problem, Detective. Maybe we can go out for drinks again?” she says, as I’m leaving.
“When this case is over, sure.”
***
Entering Sullivan’s office, he looks up at me. “Hey, what’d the Doc say?”
“Which one, the Doc downstairs
