The Sorority

"Were any valuables found on her?" I ask.

"Wallet, purse, phone, even her jewelry is gone. The car is hers though. Robbery gone wrong probably," Heath says, and I do not buy it. I do not think Jill does either.

"Something's off," I say.

"That glass could have already been there," Jill says, but I think she is just playing devil's advocate.

"Only one side has blood on it, the bottom. It landed in the blood, the blood didn't land on it. Plus look how the pool formed different over here, like it formed around something that was removed." The blood went around an object, and then only partially filled in, creating a small island of pavement. "Big enough for a purse. Her phone fell out and broke. I bet if you had this tested for aluminum oxide, you'd get a match."

"Huh?" Heath is perplexed.

"It's used in smart phone screens," Jill explains.

"So, robbery," Heath repeats.

"No, this makes absolutely no sense why the initial attack was here and not at the car. Do we have any indication when she left work?"

"According to her boss she closed up the bar alone after he left at one thirty. The alarm was on, and I'm sure the company will provide records as to when. Her boss came at seven, found her here. Uniforms have the initial interviews and he's still around if you need to talk to him yourself."

"You're a strong independent woman," I say and Jill smirks. "You close up alone at let's say two. You see a guy standing here. Do you walk past your car to talk to that guy?" I emphasize 'past your car'.

"Well I conceal carry, but I get it. Fuck no, I go back into the building and lock it and wait for the creeper to leave," Jill says.

"She walked over to them. She knew them," I say and Jill nods in agreement. "A struggle ensued, something, but she dropped her purse right here, then stumbled to her car," I say, following the trail, "then they stabbed her again, this time in the back."

"How do you know that's when they stabbed her in the back?" Heath asks.

"They changed to a knuckle up grip," I say and gesturing it like I'm holding a knife. "The five blows on the front are knuckle down grips. That's why we have lower torso front and upper torso back. This also means both attackers started at her front. If you have two people for robbery, you position front and back. But if they wanted to rob her, they had her purse over here already. They pursued her needlessly, and after you stab someone for a purse your ass is gone."

"You don't follow someone like that if you're just robbing them," Jill says, and Heath finally sees it too.

"If you're trying to kill her, for whatever reason, you couldn't find a better place to do it. Back alley parking lot, no cameras, you know she leaves last, all you need to do is watch and wait."

I call over the patrol Sergeant keeping watch.

"Detective?"

"Sergeant, I need you and your unit to canvas the neighborhood. Looking in dumpsters, trashcans, anything, for a purse, wallet, phone, valuable stuff. I also need you to keep two men and have them give me a list of places that provide ground line of sight to this parking lot. I think the perps waited, and staked her out. I need to know where that could be. Look for indications of a prolonged presence. Collection of similar filter cigarette butts, beverages, recent food wrappers."

"Understood," the Sergeant says and starts rallying his men on radio.

"Where was this version of you last week?" Jill asks.

"You'd be amazed what I can do when I think a little before I open my mouth."

"Nice to see you putting that mouth to better use," Jill says and leaves with Heath so the body can be moved. I pull out my phone and call Lieutenant Queen.

"Robbery gone wrong?" he asks

"I don't think so. I have reason to believe this was a premeditated murder," I answer.

"Damn. You on your way back?"

"Negative sir, I'm going dumpster diving with the unis."

--

I climb out of the fourth dumpster I have searched in to no avail. Maintaining the theory this case is a premeditated murder, I must assume they took the victim's valuables to stage it like a robbery. If that is true, I doubt they kept the valuables for very long, likely ditching it in a trashcan or dumpster, or anywhere they could toss it away quickly.

The uniformed officers have done an excellent job canvasing, but it is beginning to look like we are not going to get lucky today. We have already pushed the search radius out an additional three blocks and we are currently two blocks into that three. In the meantime, two officers are examining line of sight into the parking lot, and I look forward to seeing the results.

"Last block," I say, and the uniforms and I begin rummaging into the garbage again. Give me a break, something. Anything. I have a dead woman in a parking lot with no notable evidence that I could link to anyone even if I had suspects. I am not asking for much.

"I think I found something," the radio squawks. Please be something good. I jog down the street and into the next alley. The officer was smart enough to not touch it. I peek in the trashcan and see a brown purse that looks buried under a bag. What is interesting, is that I see some trash around the trashcan that was not full. Perhaps one of the murderers dug some of the trash out, dropped the purse inside, then attempted to bury it. Please tell me you grabbed the handle on the top of the lid with your bare hand.

"Jill, you near a radio?" I ask into mine. A few seconds later I get a reply.

"You got something?"

"Purse," I reply, and she informs me she is on her way.

Jill arrives with a lab kit and asks the officer who called it in what he touched. Apparently, it was just the handle of the lid, and by just the handle, I mean God Fucking Dammit! The officer did not have gloves on either. Hopefully we got prints somewhere else or he gripped on a different spot.

Jill started with pictures then carefully moved trash, then resumed with pictures. Next, she removed the purse and had Heath write down every single item in the purse, and where in the purse it was. Lip balm, inner pocket. Keys, main pocket. Compact, external front pocket. It was rather tedious to watch but I get it.

"Heath, why are we doing this?" Jill asks, field work like this is a training opportunity for her and her subordinates.

"Chain of custody. We provide photographic evidence of the discovery of said evidence so the defense can't get them off on a technicality of improper handling of evidence," Heath replies.

"Gold star," Jill says with a grin. "And the piece de resistance, her wallet. That's our victim," Jill says, tilting the wallet so I can see her identification card. Amanda Hopkins. This is her purse. "Cash is gone, but not cards. Someone does not want to take a chance of using a dead woman's debit card."

I take a step out of the alley and into the street, looking for any camera. No luck. I call over a few uniforms and instruct them to all take separate, but as direct a route as possible, back to the crime scene and look for a camera. We take five different routes and there is a traffic cam I can use to ID vehicles. An ATM on a street has a narrow camera, but possibly.

When I get back to the crime scene myself, I see the ME picking up the body and shuttling it off to the morgue for autopsy. Cause of death is without a doubt acute blood loss from multiple stab wounds, but I hope he can confirm my theory on the two knives and thus likely two perpetrators.

--

My first steps for processing the information I have after the initial scene is a timeline. I am a very big fan of white boards and I love to make use of them. The homicide office has a big whiteboard and I start with the estimated time of murder, and then work out the before and after. The security company helps with the estimated time of death. According to security logs, she activated the alarm at 1:57 in the morning.

I place the estimated time of the murder at 2:00 a.m. It is a short walk to her car, she did not start it and it was still locked. I doubt she waited long enough for them to show up much longer after that. Her boss, Jeremiah Ulrich, came back to open the bar at 7:00 a.m. and found her. His normal alarm deactivation habits through the records show this is likely as he has consistently deactivated the alarm within the ten-minute window of 6:55 a.m. and 7:05 a.m. going back months. Amanda is more sporadic at closing, but it is still plausible and within a thirty-minute window.

Jeremiah alibied out as he deactivated his alarm at his residence. He lives alone and I have footage of him pulling into his driveway. His home security system timestamped it during a time that would overlap with the murder.

I interview each employee of the bar and start crossing them off my list one by one.

Timothy Hue, server for the bar, got off shift at 8:00 p.m. He has Facebook timestamped updates and pictures at a club across town.

Daisy Gorka, the head chef in the kitchen I would never order from, left after they stopped serving food at 10:00 p.m. Went home, husband corroborates her alibi.

Rachel Cunningham, one of the two shift cooks. Left at 10:00 p.m. as well and went home. Her boyfriend corroborates, as does their neighbor who dislikes their loud sex. That was a weird phone call.

Eduardo Herrera, the other shift cook. He left even earlier in the day at 4:00 p.m. His alibi was his presence at a citizenship test study group. I have multiple people corroborate in ten different variations of broken English but corroborate nonetheless.

And lastly Jessica Heinz, the other bartender along with Amanda. Her alibi is not as solid as the others.

"Where were you at around two in the morning?" I ask.

"Sleeping, where else would I be?" Jessica replies.

"Do you know anyone who could verify that?" I ask, and she looks down and away from me. I have actually seen this many times, and it is not associated with guilt usually. She just cannot prove it, but she knows it is true.

"After the rush hours, I leave before Amanda. I typically get in second and serve the early regulars but after the crowded part I'm gone by eleven. I went home and went to sleep."

"Do you have a home alarm system you set when you go to sleep?" I ask.

"I do, but it doesn't start recording until it senses something."

"Do you have an app that alerts you when it does?" I ask. Believe it or not I have done this before. Jessica nods, pulls up her app, and opens it. Some of these cameras are super sensitive and even you shifting in your bed might set them off.

"Holy shit," Jessica says and shows me the phone. She moved enough to set it off which timestamped it at 1:37 a.m. She lives across town.

"Thank you for clarifying your whereabouts," I say, Jessica appearing extremely relieved. I am not so relieved however, as I now have no suspects.

I additionally ask all of them about her private life, and it was just that; Her private life. None of them had a relationship with her outside of work, and they did not know if she was in a relationship.

I return to my desk and see my request for financial records on Amanda are now in my inbox. Sitting down, I pull them open immediately and start reading.

One credit card, balance currently four-hundred dollars, but has good history of repayment. One car loan and a previous fully paid loan. Has never missed a payment on anything. Mid seven-hundred credit score. Amanda had a checking and savings account, and nothing unusual there. Pay is consistent with nearly twenty thousand saved.

So far all I have is a financially responsible girl who everyone liked. What the fuck is the motive to kill her?

I groan and close the file when I hear my email ping. I shift my eyes as I place the file down and rotate my chair to my computer. It is an email from the call center on the first floor. Subject line reads "Tip for Amanda Hopkins Case".

I click on the email and read:

"Detective Kramner, I understand you are the one currently assigned to the Hopkins murder case. We just received an anonymous tip. I'm like 99.999998% sure it's someone trolling the department, but protocol is what protocol is. The message is as follows.

"For information on Amanda Hopkins, watch..." And I keep reading and realize it is a web address for a porn site. I will also go with troll. However, I am obligated, however briefly, to examine all tips related to my case. We caught the last perp on a tip.

I copy and paste the link into my browser only for the police department's cyber security to tell me I cannot do that. It instantly populated a page alert saying this is not an authorized web address. And just like that I am officially out of ideas.

"On your feet," I hear Lieutenant Queen say and I snap upright. Captain Whitaker just walked in with a full grey suit and tie. I think I heard someone say he was a soldier before becoming a cop. His presence exudes authority from his choice of tie to his very nice shoes, a pair of chestnut brown Joseph Abboud lace up dress shoes.

"Amanda Hopkins, what do you got?" Captain Whitaker asks and I am tongue tied for a few seconds. I stumble my words when I try talking and pause, looking at the Lieutenant who gestures for me to get on with it.

"Nothing," I say in panic, and I want to stab myself.

"Nothing?" he replies, looking at Lieutenant Queen, then back at me. "You left the scene, came here and did nothing?"

I take a deep breath and exhale slowly to gather my bearings.

"I have interviewed all of her coworkers, and all of them alibied out. She was generally well liked and seemed rather private. Her financial history has no red flags. My next step was asking around where she lives, maybe get a more accurate pattern of life..."

"...Start with that next time. Don't ever say nothing again," the Captain interrupts. "I just got off the phone with her mother who lives in Wisconsin. She is picking up her body to take it home in a few days. Make some headway on this case. Is there anything in the tip lines?"

"Yes...but," I start.

"...but what?"

"It was a link to a porn site..."

"And you got firewalled. Call the network operators downstairs and tell them to do whatever it is they do to give you access. If someone needs to sign paperwork, I will make sure it is signed. Follow that lead. Worst case scenario, you might see some boobs. As you were," he says and leaves the office.

I relax and fall into my chair. I talk just fine normally, but something about Captain Whitaker makes you afraid to fuck up anything. Especially now after my recent fuck ups.

Calling downstairs, I am told I need to have a form 1672 signed by a Lieutenant or higher. I knock on his office door after I print one out and ask him to sign it, which he does. From here I go to the scanner/copy machine and scan it to myself. I email it to an organization mailbox I was told to send it to. Ten minutes later I receive a confirmation email. That was kind of fast.

I refresh the page and it opens to a porn tube site and a video titled, "College Freshman Slut Sucks and Fucks in Hazing Pledge." Fifteen minutes long with the tags: 'barely legal'; '18'; 'group'; 'orgy'; 'college'; 'sorority'; 'blowjob'; 'all holes filled'; and 'coed'. Could have been worse I suppose. I press play and it echoes in the office, so I pause it. I pull out some headphones from my desk drawer and plug them into the computer. I hit play after putting them in my ears.

It starts with a young woman with a blindfold over her eyes. She is on her knees wearing nothing except for her panties and I like her tits. Perky with small nipples, on the small side but I am an ass man.

"Here is the final test, and you will be a Kappa," a girl off screen says. The camera turns to a redheaded woman, a few years older than the naked one. Her words are followed by a few cheers from other women. The camera pans across the faces of an additional three girls. "Are you ready?"

"Yes," the woman says, and she sounds audibly nervous.

"I am now handing you, the die of dick. Roll this and what it lands on is how many you have to suck. Kappas are good at sucking dick, and you will not bring shame to us. We are known for two things, philanthropic car washes, and sucking cock. Can you suck cock?"

"I bet she loves sucking cock!" a girl from the back shouts.

"Do you love sucking cock?" the redhead asks?

"I like cock..."

"Kappas don't like cock. We love cock. How many cocks have you sucked?" she asks over her shoulder. I laugh a little. What the fuck is this shit?

"Three before lunch," says one of the girls, a black girl with straightened hair and a blue crop top.

"What about you?"

"According to legend, I am the result of a rooster mating with a goblin. They call me Cock-Goblin," a second girl says, and I lose my shit. I laugh loudly, and I know people around are looking at me. And they know what I'm watching and start to migrate over.

"That was the tip?" Detective Kaiser asks from over my shoulder.

Detective William Kaiser, the former rookie before I showed up. We like to call him Wilhelm the Kaiser, or just The Kaiser. He took the advice of Leo and wears at least a blazer, but with jeans. A few years older than me and is already losing his hair with a bald spot becoming more prominent by the day. Full beard and mustache but trimmed attractively unlike the Lieutenant's.

"Yeah, they're definitely trolling us," I reply and keep listening.

"Roll that die," the redhead says, and the blindfolded woman does. The die bounces on the floor and the camera follows it to show it land on a two. The redhead places a finger to her lips and turns the die, the other girls laughing as she rotates it to a five.

"Five dicks, get ready because it's going to be a busy night. You are not a Kappa until they all bust," the redhead says as another girl opens the door and lets in a procession of men who are all naked and either half or fully erect. Not a mixed bunch, mostly white but one black male. They stand in a line behind her. "Batter up, number one."

The first man walks around and places his penis a few inches from her face. The redhead grabs her hand and guides her to it.

"Open your mouth and suck that dick," the redhead says. She is slow, and reluctant, but she does put the dick in her mouth. "Work that dick, act like you've seen one up close."

"Suck that dick! Suck that dick! Suck that dick!" the women chant in unison.

"Two by two," the ringleader says and a second man steps forward. He goes to her opposite shoulder and the redhead pulled her face to it. His dick hit her face, but she maneuvered it into her mouth with the other still in her grip that she was stroking.

"I know they are, but are you getting anything out of this?" the redhead asks and looks at another woman. "Is she getting off on it?"

The woman walked behind and slithered her hand into her panties. She felt around to her pussy. "This freshman is dripping for cock."

"You said I only had to..." I hear the girl taking the pledge start before she was interrupted.

"Don't you fucking talk back freshman! You want to be a Kappa or not?"

I do not see bad acting here. Just bad behavior. The girl has a small cry as a third man takes her panties down. He positions himself and enters her from behind. I see tears in her face, but she keeps doing as told. In the midst of it all, the blindfold falls off with ten minutes left. The girl in the video is Amanda Hopkins.

"Holy shit," I say and pause it, The Kaiser groaning, but I shoo him away as I stand up to knock on Lieutenant Queen's door. "Sir."

Lieutenant Queen comes to my desk and I show him my paused screen.

"That's the murder victim Amanda Hopkins," I say, and he does not know what to make of it.