The last sparkle had fallen from the sky hours ago, but still the blue smoke drifted across the brutalist panorama of the city streets. That patch of waste ground looked upon the sleepy urban machinery, lights blinking here and there as the citizens started to adjust to the new dawn heralded by the exuberance of the night before. But this probably wasn’t the dawn that the exuberance had hoped for.
One police officer hunkered over the body; another was absently kicking the dying embers of a mid-summer bonfire.
‘It was a quiet night by all accounts,’ said the officer beside the bonfire, ‘the fire crews said they had hardly any incidents to deal with.’
‘I don’t think it was a quiet night for this poor fella,’ said the other. The dog was stocky, and it’s brown and black coat suggested it was a Rottweiler. There was a cut on its head, and the muzzle of the animal was encrusted with white scum where the dog had perhaps been foaming at the mouth. Apart from those small details it looked as if the dog was about to get up and play fetch. ‘Well, what do you think? Do we need to get an autopsy? Maybe contact animal welfare?’
‘Not a clue. What did dispatch say?’
‘Nothing helpful. Just hold tight until Mummy’s Boy arrives.’
‘That makes sense. Give a novice detective a case he can mess up without consequence. His Superintendent mother probably arranged this for him too.’
The officer leaning over the body turned around to partner, ‘and how would she manage to do that?’
The gravel crunched as a sleek, new, grey sedan moved across the gravel. It stopped close to the two officers; a young man wearing dark glasses stepped out as the officer stopped kicking the ashes and pulled his hands out of his pockets, ‘that’s a nice new car you’ve got there,’ he said to Mummy’s Boy, ‘you don’t get usually get a new one until you’ve been a detective for a few years at least, but I suppose mummy demands the best for Mummy’s Boy.’
The detective glanced over the waste ground. The prone Rottweiler looked like he was fast asleep; he could’ve been dreaming except for the fact that his legs weren’t moving. Close to the top of a hill on the edge of the city, it was easy to feel removed from the places that had only been home to Mummy’s Boy for a few months. ‘You can call me what you like behind my back, but to my face it’s Detective Coleman. And any more cracks about Superintendent Coleman and my relationship to her will be the last you make.’ Detective Coleman nodded towards the officer standing over the corpse, ‘well, what do we have here?’
‘It was called in a few hours ago, Detective Coleman. Dispatch received an anonymous call that there was something suspicious on the waste ground off Blackheath Rd. Given that there was an event here last night, a unit was sent immediately to investigate. The body was discovered within minutes of arrival, and Constable Kelly and I have been here waiting for further instructions for about an hour or so.’
‘And your name is?’
‘Constable Henderson, Sir’
‘Well Constable, have you thought about canvassing for witnesses?’
Constable Kelly laughed, ‘there’s no point doing that; all the people around here are blind. It makes me wonder why it they have a fireworks display every year.’
‘I’d like it done anyway,’ said Coleman, ‘there might be someone out there who has a grudge against the perpetrator. And people like dogs, more than they like other people a lot of the time. If people find out a dog might have been killed by one of their neighbours, they might even want to help the police find out who is responsible.’
‘You might be right,’ said Henderson, ‘I’ll phone dispatch to notify them of the doorstep interviews. So, what do we do with the body?’
Coleman hunkered down next to it, ‘well,’ he said, rubbing the stubble under his chin, ‘my inspector won‘t like authorising the expense, but I think we need more detail about how the dog died. Have you seen this?’ He said to Henderson. He was pointing to a pink scar along the underside of the dog, stretching from forelegs to hind legs. The scar was still livid, but as hair had started to grow over – it must have happened more than a week ago. ‘Something just isn’t right here. I can’t see any blood around here, do you think it’s possible the dog died somewhere else and was just moved here?’
‘That could be,’ admitted Kelly, ‘there doesn’t seem to be that many recent cuts on the body; but maybe there just wasn’t that much blood loss from the injury.’
‘And dogs are well known for not liking fireworks displays. It’s hard to imagine that someone would have taken a dog to an event like this that wasn’t calmed in some way.’
‘Maybe that’s what happened,’ suggested Henderson, ‘someone had to take this dog to a display. They gave the dog a sedative to keep it calm, but they gave it too much.’
Coleman got to his feet, ‘that’s an interesting theory. We need a pathology report, but you also need to find out what you can from doorstep interviews.’
Kelly sighed, ‘it won’t do any good, but alright. It’s your investigation.’
‘That’s right, it is my investigation,’ said Coleman, ‘and I wouldn’t have finished top of my class if I didn’t know what I was doing here. Did you know the top performer in each class gets a new vehicle, Constable Kelly?’
The constable frowned and shook his head, looking at no-one in particular, ‘there must’ve some kind of fix. Did mummy give you the answers?’
Detective Coleman laughed and shook his head as he looked at Constable Kelly, ‘it’s getting near breakfast time: maybe you and Constable Henderson should start thinking about how you want to conduct those interviews.’
Detective Coleman threw a bundle of papers onto the foam cushions of the guest chair on the other side of the desk in his office. The door was still swinging closed when he answered the phone that was bleating for his attention. Inspector Coleman was checking in.
‘You don’t need to call me so often,’ said the detective,’ in fact, it would be better if you didn’t. I’m sorry to be rude, it’s my fault; I should never have asked for that letter, I didn’t need it. But today I have good news; I have my own case and a chance to show my worth. I think the plan you suggested worked, everything is falling into place. The waste ground was the perfect place to dump that body your officers recovered. I have a story, and the evidence to support it will magically appear soon. Wait for my call, your boy has everything under control.’
Kelly rapped on the glass of the office door a few times before he entered. Henderson was busily transcribing some of her notes at her computer.
‘Come on,’ said Kelly, ‘Mummy’s Boy has just got the pathology report on that damn dog. He wants to discuss the results with us.’
Coleman smiled as he watched Kelly and Henderson marching down the corridor through the blinds of his office, the pair were lost in animated conversation. He moved quickly to be at his desk when they opened the door, cramming papers into a desk drawer even as he offered them a seat.
‘Well boss,’ said Kelly cheerfully, ‘what have you got for us?’
‘Some interesting results,’ said Coleman, ‘they back up my suspicions that the dog’s death is connected to other crimes. It suffered massive organ failure because of heroin overdose; given the amount of heroin found in his system it’s likely that the overdose was accidental.’
Henderson laughed, ‘of course! Who would give a dog so much heroin intentionally? It’s too expensive to share.’
Coleman cave Henderson a cold, emotionless stare. ‘As it happens the autopsy report does suggest one source for the heroin. The dog had been operated upon recently, the report concludes that the scar we observed was from an operation to hide heroin packets under the skin of the animal. An autopsy X-ray revealed several packets of heroin there, one of which had burst to cause the overdose. The doorstep interviews conducted yesterday revealed that many suspected that heroin use was increasing in the estates around Blackheath Rd, and some residents suspected that some in the area were involved in drug trafficking, so here’s what I think happened. Dogs where being used to transport heroin. Traffickers would exchange dogs at public events to move contraband with minimal risk to themselves. But dogs don’t like firework displays; they would probably stay hidden until needed. The dead animal was stored, perhaps in a car, and became agitated when the fireworks went off, causing one packet to split. When the traffickers became aware of the overdose they panicked and dumped the dog.’
Kelly sneered, ‘that’s a good story, but your mummy is too far away to help you find the evidence to back it up.’
Mummy’s Boy sighed as he leaned back, the leather of his new chair squeaked, ‘I think the theory is sound; the evidence is waiting for us to find it. We could make headlines, and then everyone will want me on their case.’
THE END
Ciaran J McLarnon 