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Poor Dead Doris. 19k. Adult Mystery. Murder & 60 year old Bank Robbery. (standard:mystery, 18968 words) | |||
Author: Oscar A Rat | Added: Jun 14 2020 | Views/Reads: 1467/1052 | Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes) |
An old lady dies alone in a cheap hotel. Unexpectedly, it is found to be a homicide leading to two detectives eventually investigating two murders and a forty-year-old bank robbery. | |||
July 2003, Smith City in Ohio. The old lady lay silently though not exactly in peaceful slumber. Rather than resting in peace, her repose appeared violated by two city employees hovering over the bed. They were Smith City detectives. Her, or its, eyes were open accusingly, mouth gaping as if to say, “Leave me alone, you bastards.” At least that was Detective Sergeant Jablonski's impression, and would have also been his choice of expletive if it were him being exposed to the world in a similar condition. The body lay on its back on the bed, sheets twisted as if fighting its demise -- an all too familiar sight to them both. Jablonski's partner, Detective Second-Grade Edwards, stood in the open doorway to the room. It was a single in a cheap residential hotel. The coroner's assistant had been called to certify death and he was waiting for her to appear. Once a popular stay, luring visiting tourists and businessmen, the Statler Hotel had downgraded to cheap lodgings for local residents and prostitutes; showing its age by a sign reading “Stat_ _ _ _ otel." Even local pimps lived in better quarters around the corner. “Here she is, Trix.” Edwards led the assistant coroner, named Trixie Thompson, over to the reposing body. Trixie's looks did little to belie her name, in that the lady looked as though she would fit well on the stage of an ancient burlesque theater next door. A tall, fashionably-dressed brunette, thick glasses magnified the image of large green eyes, accentuating their color. “This okay?” she asked, nodding at a cluttered dresser top near the bed as a place to leave her bag. “Better not. At least until you make your expert opinion, Trix,” John Jablonski told her. In that city, every death rated the heading of “homicide” unless, or until, the cause was known without doubt. Even little old ladies dying peacefully in bed. “Here, this should be okay.” Using a hankie, he pulled over a kitchen chair that had been sitting in a corner. Just one hell of a way to start a Friday, John thought. Trixie sat a brown medical kit on the edge of the chair, laid out a few instruments and began a simple but, to her, repetitive task of determining an initial opinion on cause of death. While John complained of a few times a week, Trixie repeated that duty three to eight times a day. While she was busy, the detectives looked the room over. It seemed cut and dried -- an old woman dying alone in bed. Neither detective or ME expected any complications. It was only bad luck that they'd caught the squeal on their way to work. Hell, it was bad enough, John thought, that they had to suffer through the constant chatter of radios in their official cars, but now the damned things were required in personal vehicles. Detective work needed concentration and who could concentrate while listening for a call sign among idle chatter? “About time we had some free time,” Edwards said, looking out a dirty window at a brick wall. “Jane and I are supposed to go to a PTA meeting tonight. I've missed the last two. How you going to spend them?” “Dunno. Probably sip cheap wine and watch tv.“ John shrugged, watching Trixie. Single, he admired that view better than the brick wall showing through the outside window. The landlady had knocked on Mabel Trum's door that morning. No cooking being allowed in single rooms, the two older ladies normally breakfasted together in the hotel manager's apartment. That morning, Mabel hadn't shown up. Since they were such good friends, the landlady had checked on her. Discovering poor Mabel still asleep, she had shaken her by the shoulder -- with no reaction. In her capacity, the landlady had seen many dead Click here to read the rest of this story (2135 more lines)
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