The Gumshoe Diaries Read Online Free PDF Page A

Lu
and Jay, the only revelation that would ease their pain would be
why. Who, what and where are only symptoms, bits of factual data,
while why ties it all together and gives you an opportunity to
understand.
    ****
    ( “I hear you knocking at my cellar door, I love you
baby can I have some more…”)…”Needle and the Damage Done”…Neil
Young…1972

Chapter Five
    13131 West First Street (Little Tokyo),
Monday, Feb 16, 2009…9pm
    The front door may have had yellow barrier
tape blocking entry but that wasn’t the case with the kitchen
window, which conveniently overlooked the fire escape. So, after a
short elevator ride and a thirty second delay while I expertly
picked the lock on the door to the roof (when one busts criminals
for a living one learns a thing or two), I climbed down three
flights to Sally’s apartment and peeked in the window. The place
was dark, not even a night light was on. All I could see was my own
reflection back lit by the street light below. If this were a
Stephen King novel a rotting hand would have burst through the
glass and ripped open my throat leaving me to drown in my own blood
while staring into the cold dead eyes of a murdered call girl. But
it’s not so I tried the window and just like I planned when I
exited earlier, the latch was disengaged and I slid the casement
open slowly.
    Once inside I closed and latched the window,
no use tempting fate should someone have seen me breaking and
entering. I pulled out my trusty pocket flashlight, the one I got
from the Home Depot dollar bin and swept the room. Not much to see
in the kitchen. In fact it didn’t appear as though Sally spent much
time in here at all. Even the fridge was empty except for an open
box of Arm & Hammer baking soda. If she was worried about odors
there must have been something in there at some time? I’m guessing
that the CSI team must have bagged and tagged all of the contents.
Technically they should have taken the box as well, but one whiff
and I could see why they left it behind! I held my breath, dumped
the nasty stuff out onto the counter and sifted through it. There
wasn’t anything noteworthy so I walked slowly out of the kitchen
and into the small dining room. Sally had good taste, a black
marble table with four matching black teak side chairs. The
centerpiece was a black swan made of what appeared to be ivory? The
table was set for four with fine white bone china set upon on black
ceramic chargers. The utensils were obviously silver and the wine
glasses and water goblets were expensive crystal. My first
observation, they had never been used. So she didn’t eat at home
and she didn’t entertain in this room. Not surprising for someone
in her profession.
    Turning 180 degrees I walked toward the
living room. Clearly she and Uncle Lu studied under the same
interior decorator because it was an explosion of white, well,
except for the yellow paint outlining where Sally had expired, and
the faint stains left behind by a corpse. I scanned the room with
the small beam of light from my little flashlight, and came to rest
on the glass coffee table. The table top showed signs of being
dusted for fingerprints but that’s not what caught my eye. I knelt
beside the table and studied it closely. There, underneath the
thick glass, stuck in the frame that held it up was a navy blue
thread about two inches long. Curious, the first thought that
passed through mind was cop? This was a tread from a uniformed
officer from LAPD? Could be, I mean the place was lousy with LAPD
officers and they’re not the tidiest bunch. But still, how did it
get wedged in that way under the table? I dunno, perplexing
isn’t it? I debated sharing this evidence right away but thought
better of it. Instead I whipped out one of the sandwich baggies
that I keep handy and slipped the follicle inside. As long as I was
taking risks by just being here, might as well go for broke, right?
Besides, ‘…in for a penny in for a pound…’ my old