Jeff Carson - Foreign Deceit

Which indicated he was probably dumped here after he was killed. Which indicated that he probably wasn’t killed in this very spot. Which told him a crime scene was still out there to be looked at.

“Estimated time of death?”

Rossi looked to Wolf. “Looks like at least three to four days. Nothing definite. But Ricardo says it looks like this weekend. Looks like it could be Friday night.”

“Underneath? What’s it look like?” Wolf pointed and bent down.

Rossi barked to the forensics officer to come over. They rolled the body to the side and looked underneath. Lia put her hand on Wolf’s shoulder and got down to look with them. Rossi put on gloves, and pulled the body to the side with the forensic specialist. A mat of leaves, grass and branches stuck to the back of the head. A fresh waft of death and decay filled his nostrils with the movement. Dark brown dried blood stains covered the back of the neck, shirt, and the underlying vegetation.

“Blood on the vegetation underneath. The blood coagulated around the grass, sticks, and leaves behind his head. Looks like he was dumped pretty quickly after death. The blood was still flowing down his neck, not yet coagulated.”

“Yes,” Rossi said. “That’s what I was thinking as well. So we swept the scene, couldn’t find a weapon…”

Wolf was looking in the distance through the thick brush to the left of the group officers now smoking and pantomiming soccer plays. The silver reflection off the observatory dome winked at them through the trees. No more than a few hundred yards away.

“There,” he said pointing. “Is there a path from here to the observatory?”

“Wolf,” Rossi said pulling off a glove and touching his shoulder. “Let me finish, my friend. We have been here for over three hours surveying the scene. I have found out much. We couldn’t find a murder weapon here, but, yes. We followed the trail to the observatory.” He walked back towards the narrow trail. “Come.”

They followed Rossi to a trail that joined from the right. An officer stood guard of the narrower-still pathway, shoving his cell phone in his pocket with a red face as Rossi passed with a grunted order.

Pieces of orange ribbon were tied in small bows in various spots on the limbs. Rossi stopped at one and pointed to it, moving to the next and pointing wordlessly. Blood stains, blocked from the rains by the dense foliage.

They hiked up a small rise, slapping mosquitoes and pushing aside branches, and broke through to a farm road that led towards the observatory in the distance. Tall corn stalks with fat cobs lined both sides of the road.

Another couple officers with two German Shepherds were fifty yards ahead, talking on the top of the rise.

“The dogs found a weapon here,” Rossi gestured towards the side of the dirt road. Both dogs growled, one of them barked with teeth bared, slobber flinging from its lips. The dog yelped as the officer ripped it back, following with a sharp smack on the top of its head.

Rossi yelled at the two officers, who pulled the now crouching dogs away to the observatory. He bent down and pointed closely at a tubular groove in the mud.

“The dogs found a copper pipe here on the ground. It had large amounts of blood on it still on the underside, and fingerprints. I’ve had it taken for identification. We should know shortly whose they were,” he said.

“Well, that will be good. About time we come up with a cut and dry piece of evidence. So, otherwise, the dogs didn’t pick up any other scent here?”

“No, but they picked up a scent on the grounds of the observatory. There is still evidence left, even after the rains.” Rossi raised his eyebrows and exhaled. “It looks to be where he was killed. Then it looks like he was dragged down here, the weapon ditched in the corn here, then the body dropped down where we found him.” He pointed back to the lake.

The lawn of the observatory was as unruly as ever, with foot and a half long grasses, weeds and wildflowers making it difficult to walk. It was damp, holding moisture from yesterday’s downpour, or over-zealous lawn watering, or both. Rossi led them to a familiar spot.

It was a beautifully manicured yard space, other than the lawn. Vines clung to the rear of the entire building and the exterior of the rounded dome, as if keeping it earthbound. Wolf saw two wide skid marks in the lawn.

He looked at Lia and looked to the marks in the lawn. She was following his eyes as they walked by.

“Here is the spot,” Rossi pointed, reaching another perimeter of crime scene tape. “The dogs located a lot of blood in the lawn there. It seems to be where he was killed with the pipe.” There were little yellow evidence A-frames clustered on the lawn.

Wolf grabbed the tape, “Can we go in?”

“It’s wet.” Rossi ducked under. “Good choice of shoes you brought to Italy.” He looked at Wolf’s old Danner leather work boots.

Wolf ducked under, stealing a glance towards the perimeter fence. The clothing he’d used to climb over was gone.

Rossi led the way through the soggy lawn, their feet sucking and sloshing with each step. Mud patches were visible at the roots of the lawn. Wolf bent down next to a small yellow plastic A-frame evidence indicator. It was almost impossible to discern any difference between the spot and the surrounding area, all except a tiny shard of white. Another nearby A-frame tent marked a larger piece, this time with skin and hair on it.

“The dogs were going nuts in this spot. The forensics team found a lot of skull fragments. The largest concentration is there,” Rossi said pointing at the number one plastic indicator. “That is a large concentration area of blood.”

Wolf stepped to the area and crouched down, looking intently. He imagined the A-frame indicator to be Dr. Rosenwald’s head, then imagined his body laying out. He swept his gaze in a tight spiral around the marker, working his way out.

Five feet from the evidence marker at two o’clock, a pair of indentions captured his eye. Wolf stepped over and felt the ground. There were two holes, just about the size of knees. He could see it clearly in his mind’s eye. Dr. Rosenwald had knelt down right here and received his first blow to the side of his head.

The A-frame indicator marked the pool of blood as just a few feet to the side. It looked like he’d been hit once, fell to his side, then was finished off with numerous blows to the head. There would be chunks of skull, brain matter, and blood strewn everywhere. Probably under the soles of his boots.

He stood up and shuffled to the side, feeling another slight depression under his foot. Massaging the ground with his hands, he found two more depressions a few feet from the others. Realization sent a jolt of electricity up his spine. The mud circles on his brother’s jeans now made perfect sense. His eyes closed slowly as he felt the knee depressions where his brother had taken his last conscious breath.

“Pronto?” Rossi barked into his phone, walking away towards the crime tape perimeter.

Lia looked to Wolf. “What are you doing?”

“Remember those circles on the knees of my brother’s jeans?”

“Yes?”

“There were similar circles on Rosenwald’s jeans, but less noticeable. Probably from being out in the rain. But there are still four deep indentations right here on the ground. Two for each man who knelt down.”

Lia let out a gasp and bent down to see for herself. “ Ma-donna .”

“Have you spoken to anyone in the observatory yet?” Wolf stood up, turning to Rossi.

Rossi was twenty yards away with his phone to the ear, looking at Wolf with wide eyes and propping an index finger. He looked to the trees in the distance and asked some sharp questions, then hung up the phone, keeping his head bowed for a few seconds. Pocketing the cell phone, he looked to Wolf with a pursed mouth.