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Chapter 134: The Amazing Third Precinct
Theodore nodded, handing over the Third Precinct's report.
Lombardi opened it, scanned it twice, and gestured for them to wait. He dismissed his team first, instructing them to proceed with surveillance according to the groupings they'd established and designating the bald agent to take command.
When the last agent filed out, only three remained in the small conference room.
Lombardi tossed the report onto the table. "It's their style."
"What style?" Bernie asked.
"Third Precinct style. They'd ask FBI agents to help them issue parking tickets if they could."
He wasn't remotely surprised the Third Precinct had submitted something this bare-bones. Their budget fluctuated with the Investigation Department's performance. When the FBI closed cases, the Third Precinct's clearance rate skyrocketed. When the FBI slumped, the Third Precinct's numbers cratered.
Some precincts, like the Third, were quick to yield jurisdiction. Others, like the Fourth, maintained dignity and self-respect. The Fourth Precinct covered the Northeast District; detectives there had tough reputations and rarely sought FBI assistance.
After enough time in D.C., you discover that the seven precincts each had distinct characteristics and varying styles.
Lombardi briefly outlined the peculiarities of the various precincts. It was enlightening.
Theodore brought the conversation back to the case, inviting Lombardi to the scene. If the deceased had indeed been pushed from that fifth-floor room, Lombardi would have been the first law enforcement officer to enter it, and also the one closest to the killer.
Lombardi hesitated initially; he was too tied up with his current case to leave. But learning it was just a quick trip, no more than an hour, he agreed readily.
On the way, Bernie chatted with Lombardi about Annie Halleck's case.
The incident occurred ten years ago. Sexual assault. Victim: the deceased, Annie Halleck.
Halleck had been working as a typist at a law firm. That day, she'd worked late on a document and was followed home by Robert Miller. Miller had followed her all the way, then assaulted her.
Halleck's home had been empty that night, her husband was on a business trip, and their two children were at her parents' house. After the assault, Halleck hadn't remained silent like most victims, keeping it a permanent secret. She'd reported it immediately and hadn't cleaned up. When detectives arrived, she'd only wrapped herself in a nightgown.
The Third Precinct quickly secured the evidence and took her for a forensic examination. A fifteen-dollar testing kit, which she had to pay for herself. Factory workers earned a dollar sixty an hour back then. Attorney consultations ran ten dollars per hour.
Miller wasn't a first-time offender, and he wouldn't be his last either. The Third Precinct subsequently received several more reports, but by the time detectives arrived, the victims had already scrubbed away the assault traces.
They'd relied on Halleck's description to apprehend Miller, and it was also thanks to the evidence Halleck preserved that Miller was successfully brought to trial.
Lombardi's tone was subdued. "I met at least six victims. None were willing to testify in court. To avoid appearing, they all withdrew their accusations against Miller."
"Only Annie Halleck testified."
"Because there was only one victim, Miller only got ten years."
Pennsylvania Avenue was clear that morning. The Justice Department wasn't far from the Riverside Hotel, so they arrived quickly.
The Riverside Hotel was mid-range. Room prices varied drastically. The cheapest street-facing single was five-fifty. The most expensive top-floor suite was eighty-seven-fifty.
The hotel sat far from the core district but had convenient transportation. Most guests were state clerks or congressional support staff. The hotel offered long-term weekly rates, and many congressional stenographers and company interns used it as an apartment.
The deceased's room was on the fifth floor, the cheapest street-facing single.
After Theodore and the others showed identification at the front desk and explained their purpose, the desk clerk called for the manager.
He was a kind-faced middle-aged man, slightly overweight but not obese. He looked like a dough ball and spoke in gentle, amiable tones. On the way to the crime scene, he kept asking when the room could reopen for normal use.
The room was currently sealed and would remain sealed until the case closed. The Third Precinct's request.
The Third Precinct had extensive experience collaborating with the FBI. While perhaps not adept at solving cases, their auxiliary work, securing scenes, maintaining order, was absolutely impeccable.
Lombardi knew the drill and told the manager to ask the Third Precinct.
The manager pursed his lips, looking like an aggrieved dough ball.
They arrived at the room. The manager handed Bernie the key and stepped back.
After the door opened, the three pulled on gloves and shoe covers before entering.
The window was blocked by a wooden board, no light penetrated. The interior was pitch black, cave-like.
Bernie fumbled along the wall, found the switch, and flipped it on. The light revealed the situation inside.
The entire room was cramped, about the size of a typical residential bedroom. To the left, against the wall, sat a bed. It was somewhat messy, the quilt was half-turned back, the exposed sheet was wrinkled, and a pillow lay on the floor.
Next to the bed, on the corridor side, stood a wardrobe. It must have been used extensively, mottled marks covered the surface. The wardrobe stood open, empty inside. Shiny powder dusted the door, fingerprint powder brushed on by the Third Precinct's forensic team. They'd worked meticulously, taking seven or eight samples from the cabinet door alone.
On the bed's other side sat a nightstand. A table lamp rested there, showing clear signs of having been dropped. It was also coated with fingerprint powder.
On the wall opposite the bed hung a mirror. Behind it was the bathroom, small but fully equipped with a toilet, shower, and sink. Nothing was missing.
Theodore pointed at the wardrobe, turning to Lombardi. "Was it open when you came in?"
Lombardi didn't hesitate. "Both doors were open."
He needed to help Theodore reconstruct the initial scene. That was his purpose for coming.
Theodore stood before the wardrobe for a while, then walked to the bed's other side.
Lombardi joined him and proactively explained: "When I came in, the table lamp was right here, just as it is now. But there were a lot of fragments on the floor."
He pointed to the area by the bed. "Annie Halleck's clothes were piled right here."
"Are the clothes intact?" Theodore asked.
Lombardi nodded, then pointed to the ground at the foot of the bed. "There's a broken wine bottle here."
Theodore waited a moment, heard nothing further, and looked over in confusion.
Lombardi glanced around and spread his hands, his expression somewhat helpless. "It was probably like this when I came in. Aside from these fingerprint powders, it's pretty much the same as it is now."
He explained, "The forensic team arrived shortly after I did. I handed the scene over and left."
Theodore withdrew his gaze, feeling that Lombardi's invitation had been pointless. His presence made little difference.
He circled the room twice, then asked the manager hovering in the doorway, "Isn't there a trash can in this room?"
The manager started to enter, but his raised foot retracted under the three agents' collective stare. He stood at the threshold and pointed under the bed. "The trash can is under the bed. It's usually on the other side, in front of the nightstand."
Theodore looked down, bent over, and lifted the bedsheet.
Nothing was under the bed.
Lombardi suggested it might have been taken by the Third Precinct's forensic team, along with the broken lamp fragments and the deceased's clothing.
Theodore walked into the bathroom and found shiny powder everywhere. He wondered how many fingerprints the team had extracted and how many boxes of powder they'd used.
Lombardi followed, wanting to explain something, but he hadn't entered the bathroom yesterday.
Coming out, Theodore waved to Bernie and walked out of the room.
The manager immediately stepped forward. "Can the room be opened now?"
Theodore didn't answer. "When did the deceased, Annie Halleck, check in?"
The manager shook his head. "Harrington was on duty Monday night. He's downstairs. He should know."
He led them to his office, called an employee to fetch Harrington, and had coffee brought over.
Harrington arrived quickly. He was a young man, still boyish, his face full of adolescent marks. He was somewhat nervous, standing awkwardly with his hands constantly rubbing on his pants.
The manager helped by asking, "What time did the woman in room 511 check in on Monday?"
Harrington swallowed nervously. "A little after nine in the evening."
The manager turned to Theodore.
"Was she alone?" Theodore asked.
Harrington nodded.
"After her, did anyone else enter room 511?"
Harrington instinctively looked at the manager, then shook his head blankly.
The manager explained on his behalf: "We do not interfere with the purpose for which guests open a room. Once a guest receives the key, the room is their private domain until the room fee runs out. We do not inquire."
Theodore ignored the manager. "The deceased, was the room opened by Annie Halleck?"
Harrington nodded, looking confused.
"You remember her coming to the counter to pay and open the room?"
Harrington nodded twice, hesitated, then shook his head. "There were a lot of guests yesterday. I'm not too sure."
Theodore asked a few more questions. Seeing that Harrington could provide nothing further, he turned to the manager.
Had any other employees seen anyone besides the deceased enter room 511 on Monday night?
The manager called the fifth-floor employees over and questioned them individually. Everyone stated they hadn't seen anyone else enter room 511.
Theodore finally requested the registration information for the room adjacent to 511 that night and left the hotel.
Lombardi had been checking his watch frequently. He offered his farewells immediately after leaving. He was currently on a stakeout and might need to take action at any moment. He truly couldn't stay away any longer.
Parting from Lombardi, Theodore and Bernie drove to the Third Precinct.
The case was being handled by Detective Thomas, a middle-aged man with slightly graying temples. He took them to the forensic lab first.
The Third Precinct's forensic lab was expansive, occupying the entire basement level. Unlike most police departments' labs, which were only divided into an autopsy room and offices, this lab had rough departmental divisions.
According to Thomas, it was built to completely mimic the FBI's laboratory.
The Third Precinct's forensic team had taken many items from the scene and were now extremely busy. Their most immediate task was the creation and comparison of over fifty fingerprint cards.
All of them had been extracted from hotel room 511.
Cases occurring in hotels tended to have numerous fingerprints. Only a small portion were case-related, while the majority belonged to hotel staff or previous guests.
These fingerprint cards would undergo preliminary screening at the Third Precinct's lab. After removing duplicates, they'd be taken to the FBI fingerprint database for comparison.
Next: the deceased's clothes.
Aside from the floral cotton pajamas she was wearing when she fell, there was another set of women's clothing in the hotel room. It was a complete set, from underwear to outerwear, from pants to tops.
After identification by Harrington, this was what the deceased had been wearing on Monday night.
Unlike the tattered pajamas, the buttons on this set were unfastened and the zippers were open. There were no tears, damage, or signs of violence. It looked like the deceased had voluntarily removed them.
Forensic experts had also found a wallet in the deceased's pocket, containing several banknotes and coins.
The team had also brought back the room's trash can.
The contents were numerous. Four condoms alone. The team had found the corresponding wrappers, all different, representing four different brands.
Besides the condoms: a pair of underwear, two wads of tissue, a small piece of pizza, and a glass cola bottle.
The team had also pieced together the broken wine bottle, confirming it was cheap red wine.
They also provided Theodore with freshly developed crime scene photos.
The Third Precinct's forensic team's photography skills were professional, far surpassing those of a certain Fifth Precinct agent.
The photos were divided into two groups: room 511, and the center of the outdoor road.
The outdoor photos were consistent with what they'd seen that day. There were no discrepancies.
The indoor photos also largely matched what Theodore had seen, plus Lombardi's description.
Detective Thomas finally took them to the autopsy room.
[End of Chapter]