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The chronological order of my stories is as follows:
Todd & Melina series, Interludes 1-5, Sperm Wars series, Russian Roulette series, Case of the Murdered Lovers series, Case of the Murdered Chessplayer series, The Swap series, Interludes 6-10, The Murdered Football Player Series, Case of the Black Widow series, Teresa’s Christmas Story, The Case of the Black Badge series, A Case of Revenge series, Trilogy Series, Dark Side Of The Force series, Caught In the Act series.
Case of the Murdered Bride Ch. 1.
Feedback and constructive criticism is very much appreciated, and I encourage feedback for ideas.
This story contains graphic scenes, extreme language, and actions that might be extremely offensive to some people. These scenes, words and actions are used only for the literary purposes of this story. The author does not condone murder, racial or racist language, violence, rape or violence against women, and any depictions of any of these in this story should not be construed as acceptance of the above.
Part 1 – Prologue
The cabbie pulled over to the curb as he saw the couple hailing him on the sidewalk outside the bar. The man was in a tuxedo and the thirtysomething woman was in her white bridal gown. They were laughing as they got into the car, obviously having had plenty to drink.
“Cabbie, just drive around for a while.” the bride said. As he pulled out, the bride and groom were kissing, laughing and playing with each other; the groom was sliding his hands along the bride’s sweet-looking thigh as she rubbed his crotch while they kissed.
The husband was a bit nerdy looking, maybe in his late 20s or early 30s, the cabbie thought, with glasses and unkempt hair, but he was tall and slender. The guy looked even nerdier in contrast to his new bride: she was definitely in her 30s but she was very beautiful, with honey blonde hair, large breasts that were not naturally so, a firm, trim body.
As the cabbie drove on the main streets in a big circle around Town, the bride opened up her groom’s pants and fished out his cock. The cabbie could clearly see them in his rear-view mirror, and this guy had a formidable weapon of lust: very long, at least eight or nine inches, and nicely thick. The bride was stroking the groom’s meat to hardness as they kissed, their tongues twining, then the bride leaned over and sank her mouth down onto the huge, exposed cock.
The young man moaned as the beautiful blonde fellated him. The cabbie had to be careful in his driving as he frequently looked into the rear-view mirror to see the bride’s mouth sliding up and down the long, thick shaft of her new husband’s hard male meat. Then her eyes glanced upward at the mirror, making eye contact with the cabbie through the looking-glass.
“Mmmm, honey, I think our driver likes what he sees.” the blonde bride teased. “Like what you see, cabbie?”
“Yes ma’am.” the cabbie said, not lying.
“Cabbie, drive to the University Hotel and park.” said the groom. “Why don’t you escort us to our room… to help with luggage.”
“Yes sir.” the cabbie said.
“Want to party with us?” asked the bride.
“Sure, why not?” said the cabbie. It seemed like the dream opportunity of a lifetime.
They were in a room on the sixth floor of the University Hotel. It was a nice room, with white trim contrasting the ‘true blue’ walls, a king size bed, and a large bathroom with hot tub; but it was not the bridal suite by any means. The cabbie was sitting on the bed, with the bride standing in front of him.
“I’m going to go get some ice for drinks.” said the groom. Taking the ice bucket, he left the room.
“Well, let’s get this party started.” said the bride. She went to her knees just in front of the cabbie sitting on the edge of the bed and began opening his pants. The cabbie leaned back, resting on his elbows as the bride fished out his hard cock.
“Mmmm, nice.” said the bride. It wasn’t as large as the groom’s, but was a nice-enough seven inches of cabbie cock. The bride engulfed his meat, sucking voraciously.
“Ohhhh… you keep that up and I won’t last a minute.” the cabbie groaned as the pleasure of being fellated by this lovely blonde coursed through his body.
“Mmmm, it’s okay, baby,” said the bride as she licked the man’s shaft and tongued and kissed his cum-heavy balls, “just shoot your load down my throat. There’s plenty of time for Round Two tonight…”
The cabbie did not resist and less than a minute later he was firing his jets of man-lava into the bride’s throat, hearing her gulp and moan as she swallowed his baby batter…
Part 2 – The Crime Scene
I arrived at University Hotel at midnight, October 9th becoming the 10th, having been called by Lt. Cindy Ross. As I got off the elevator, I was met by Patrolman Johnson, who was guarding the hallway and not letting anyone pass through.
“Sir, if you’ll just be careful not casino siteleri to step in the blood at the doorway…” said Patrolman Johnson in admonition.
“Yes. Thanks.” I said. “By the way, Johnson, excellent job taking down that perp Lenny.” Lenny, the filthy, long-haired little dog-shit that was constantly in and out of our jails for petty stuff, had run away from police officers, only to be chased down, tackled hard and quickly cuffed by Patrolman Johnson.
“Thank you, sir.” said Johnson, happy to be complimented by the Police Commander, knowing that I didn’t forget good work and that a promotion might be on the way.
Cindy Ross met me at the door, her finger over her mouth in a ‘hush’ sign. “Coroner Haines is inside there.” she said. “He’s really interfering with the Medical Examiner and our Crime Lab people.”
“Ah, election season, don’t you just love it?” I said. “He’s got to be seen taking action, and I’ve heard he’s got a strong challenger. You got your blue crowbar?” I asked.
“Of course.” said Cindy.
“I’ve got my red one.” I said. “Let’s make sure the bozo sees them. If he interferes with me, I’ll ask you to escort him out… under arrest if need be. Usage of your crowbar will be optional, and I’ll back you up no matter what you decide.” Cindy responded to that with a smile… a smile that no perps wants to see on her rugged but attractive face.
The door to the hotel room was half open, and I knocked and then carefully treaded over the door sash, stepping sideways onto a mat that had been placed to the right, then on around to the center of the room. The floor right at the door was tile, giving way to bluish carpet a couple of feet later. As I entered, I could see what happened.
A blonde woman in a bridal dress was lying on the floor on her back, staring up sightlessly. Her head was touching where the tile met carpet, her feet at the end of the bed. Her throat had been slit, and blood had poured out of the wound onto the tile and run to the space under the door. A large Bowie knife, called a ‘Rambo’ knife by some, was embedded in the center of the woman’s chest, right in the heart.
“Hello, everyone.” I said. “Why Coroner Haines, what a surprise.” Coroner Steven Lester Haines was an older man, a bit pudgy, his graying hair thinning and beginning to have gaps. Detectives Martin Nash and Diana Torres were in the room, both in plainclothes, Martin in a suit and tie as always, and Torres in a royal blue blouse and midnight black pants.
They were watching the Crime Lab team do their thing, taking samples and processing the scene, taking pictures and the like. There was a quietness to the air, as if everyone were afraid to move, and they looked very happy and relieved to see me enter the room.
A woman in her late 40s to early 50s was examining the body. She was the assistant medical examiner, and was on duty because ‘CMB’ was taking a timely vacation. I actually thought she did a better job than CMB in thoroughness, but didn’t say that out loud. She was being ‘birddogged’ by Coroner Haines, who was literally directing her every action.
“Okay, Martha, what have you got?” I asked.
“I’m in charge here, Detective. You’ll address any questions to me.” Coroner Haines said. I saw Nash wince and Cindy’s face become visibly angry. It was time to assert my authority, especially in front of my Detectives.
“First of all, Coroner Haines,” I said, drawing up to him and confronting him, locking my eyes with his, “while ‘Detective’ is a honored title given to some of my very best officers, my own title is ‘Commander’, and I’ll thank you to show me the courtesy of using it respectfully when addressing me-“
“Fine and good, Commander,” Coroner Haines interrupted, making his bid at a power play, “but I’m in charge of the Public Health Department, I’m the elected official here, and I am in charge of the Medical Examiners and Crime Lab personnel. You’ll direct your questions to me, and I’ll direct how this investigation proceeds. Your job is to-“
The red crowbar was tapping in my hand, which my Detectives knew meant a ‘spanking’ was imminent. “Coroner, ” I replied, “you do not give me any orders at all, and you sure as hell are not going to tell me what my job is nor how to do it. Furthermore, you are not in charge of this nor any other crime scene; *I* am in charge here. You may be in charge of the Medical Examiners, but the Crime Lab people are mine. Your Medical Examiner is here as a courtesy, not a requirement, and the body is not your M.E.s until I release it to them.
“If you have any issue with that, bring it before the Town & County Council, and we’ll see who is in charge of who. In the meantime, keep your fucking mouth shut, or I’ll have Lieutenant Ross remove you… and by violent force and under arrest if need be.”
I suspect it was the look on Cindy’s face that convinced the Coroner that playing the macho game with the Police Force was neither a politically expedient nor physically correct canlı casino way of handling things. He said nothing more as I said “One more time… Martha! what have you found so far?”
“Looks like someone had his- or her- hand over the deceased’s mouth and slit her throat,
severing the carotid artery.” the Asst. M.E. said. “Lot of blood gushed out, then the perp stabbed her right in the chest. Looks like it got the heart, from what I can tell. She bled out pretty quickly.”
“Did she put up a fight?” I asked.
“Not much of one, from what I can tell.” Martha replied. “It looked like it all happened pretty fast. I took scrapings from under her fingernails, but it doesn’t look like there was anything there. No other bloodstains on her or the floor or in the room. Bathroom was not used at all, so the perp didn’t clean up; perhaps he brought a bag with him and took stuff out in it.”
“Fingerprints on the weapon?” I asked.
“No sir.” said the man called ‘Labcoat’, who was standing next to Torres and watching as I began making a much closer examination of the body.
“Who called it in?” I asked, as I fiddled with the wedding dress while examining it.
“Front desk.” replied Martin Nash. “Some other hotel guests on this floor were going to their room and saw the blood coming out under the door. They rushed back to the front desk in a panic, and an employee came up. He saw the blood, and had the front desk call 9-1-1. The employee stayed in the hallway but says he didn’t try to go in. The door was closed at that time, by the way.”
“Also,” continued Nash, watching me examine the dead woman’s left hand and the wedding rings upon the ring finger, “the room is registered to a ‘Doug and Nancy Jones’. We haven’t found any ID; in fact, we’ve found no purse in the room. The killer may have taken it. I’m thinking we’ll have to check weddings earlier today- well, yesterday- and see if we can get more information.”
“No purse… highly instructive.” I said. “As to the day’s weddings, you can look them up, but don’t waste too much time on it.”
“Why is that, sir?” Torres asked.
“Teachable moment.” I said, using one of my favorite phrases, which was known to make Detectives wince: they were about to be tested. “Nash, have you and Torres closely examined the body yet?”
“No sir.” said Nash. “Coroner Haines has been actively directing this scene and wouldn’t let us do our jobs.” The coroner glared hatefully at Nash, but said nothing as he noticed both me and Cindy staring hard at him, eager to start something.
“I see.” I said. “Well, start looking it over. Ross, you too, if you like.” All three Detectives looked closely at the body, trying to mimic my earlier actions. Torres even pulled at the woman’s wedding rings. Meanwhile, I looked around the room, under the bed, through the dresser drawers, then peeked into the bathroom, then finally took the fluoroscope and bathed the bedspread, floor and dresser top in the eerie light.
“Okay, guys, what have you guys seen from your examination of this crime scene?” I asked.
“Looks like a struggle took place, but it was a brief one.” said Nash. “The room is not torn up, the bed is still made. The woman may have been ambushed when she walked in and quickly overpowered. That suggests a man, definitely someone much stronger than this woman, since she didn’t get much of a chance to fight back.”
“That’s pretty good, I like that.” I said. “Torres? Anything to add?”
“I’m sorry sir, I didn’t see anything that stuck out.” said Torres.
“You were looking at the woman’s rings.” I said. “They’re an important clue. What did you observe about them?”
“Yes sir, I saw you doing it.” replied Torres. “They’re on her fingers pretty tightly. I guess the fingers swelled up when she died?”
“Sometimes there might be some bloating,” said the Assistant M.E., “but nothing in this case. Her fingers aren’t broken, either.”
“Lieutenant Ross?” I asked.
“I was going to say what Martin said.” Cindy replied. “Looks like the guy, and I agree it was a man, jumped her, killed her quickly. And I admit I didn’t examine the rings closely.”
“Okay, not bad, guys.” I said, trying to keep it positive, but knowing I had a lot to teach these three otherwise excellent Detectives. “Whoever killed her either did it so fast that she didn’t have time to react and scratch at him -OR- he was wearing a long-sleeve shirt that protected his arms -OR- she knew her attacker, and was totally surprised to find herself under attack, and by then her throat was slit and it was all over.”
“Second,” I continued, “I personally find it just a bit strange that this woman’s wedding dress is secured by velcro. See it here?” I pointed out the fastenings on both sides of the dress. “Of course there’s a lot of blood on the upper part of the dress, but if you look at the entire dress, it looks old, a bit of smudging here and there. Not what I’d expect to find on a blushing bride that was newly kaçak casino married just hours ago.”
Everyone nodded as I continued: “Also, about those wedding rings on her fingers… they have been there for a long time, I’d say for years. They’re tight on her fingers, as you said, Diana, but you can see by the slight indentations underneath that they weren’t just put on her finger today- er, yesterday. Dammit, Nash, you’ve got me fucked up on the dates now!” I teased.
“Sorry about that, sir.” Nash, said, not sorry at all, teasing back in his own way. I saw out of the corner of my eye that Coroner Haines was smirking, and I resolved to teach that bastard a hard, cold lesson in County politics, a lesson from which he would not recover politically.
“So, Torres, what does this tell us?” I asked, testing the young but promising Detective.
“That she’s already married?” said Torres. A bit obvious, but I wanted to just get her imagination flowing. The experience and knowledge would come in time, I thought to myself.
“Yes. Good, very good.” I said. “Nash?”
“I’m not sure, but it’s not looking like a typical wedding night.” said Nash. “And maybe the names they registered under are fake. Not sure what the velcro means, though.”
“Excellent, Nash, I agree that the names are very likely fake.” I said. “And since I’m married to a college professor whose job is to think outside the box sexually, it immediately occurred to me that this woman is married, has been for some time, and that this is some sort of sexual role-playing. This velcro is for the woman to get out of the dress very quickly, and obviously for sexual purposes. This is not her first rodeo, either, as she has used this dress a number of times in the past for this kind of thing.”
I pretended not to notice Martha and the Detectives looking at each other in part ‘How does he do that?’ and part ‘Why didn’t we see that?’ modes. Coroner Haines looked bored; once he was supplanted as the alpha-male, he had totally lost interest in the crime scene.
“Okay, everyone,” I said, wrapping up. “First, check the woman’s mouth, throat, esophagus and stomach to see if she swallowed any semen. That might give us some DNA to work with.”
“Already done for her mouth. And I’ve done a rape kit for her vagina, though it looks like she had not had intercourse nor been sexually assaulted in the last moments of her life.” said Martha. “We’ll check stomach contents during the autopsy.”
“Great!” I replied. “Now what I need is the Hotel’s video footage of when these people first came into the hotel. I need a description of the alleged ‘groom’ and any third or more persons that came in with them. Talk to the Hotel staff for descriptions, also. Lt. Ross, who are you putting in charge of this case?” I asked, making sure not to step on my Lieutenant’s role in assigning cases to her Detectives.
“Senior Detective Nash.” replied Cindy. “And Detective Torres, you’re working this one with him.”
I waited until my Crime Lab people were finished with their work before I left; I was not about to leave my people at the mercy of the power-hungry Coroner Steven Lester Haines. Cindy stayed with me, chatting about the recently concluded Derrick Belle murder. Coroner Haines finally realized why I was staying. He left, and I subsequently sent Cindy home to get some sleep.
Part 3 – Politics and Crowbar Applications
“This is Bettina Wurtzburg, KXTC Channel Two News!” said the lovely reporterette redhead on the morning of October 10th, standing outside the front entrance of the University Hotel. “Channel Two News has learned that a woman was found dead in a room here at the University Hotel. Police will not confirm that the victim was wearing a bridal gown and veil, not that foul play was involved; however, Channel Two News has confirmed that the woman was wearing a wedding dress, and was stabbed to death.”
Suddenly, behind Bettina, a superimposed photograph of the dead woman appeared, obviously taken at the crime scene. Bettina said “Police have not yet identified the victim in this horrible crime, and if you can provide any helpful details, the Coroner’s Office asks that you contact them immediately.”
“Why that son of a bitch!” I snarled, knowing who was behind that photo being released. I picked up the phone and called the Police Photographer, the Asian woman who had helped me by concealing the Pete Feeley photos from Tanya Perlman’s best efforts to see them. She told me that the pictures were uploaded into our computers, but that she had not released any to the Public nor the Media. I also placed a call to Lt. Peterson of Media Relations, and left him a message to get back to me.
“The M.E.s would have access to the pictures once they were uploaded.” said Martin Nash.
“Yep.” I said. “I think my next call had better be from my office.” I went into the office and called Bettina on the cell phone.
As Bettina and her cameraman wrapped up and were packing up their stuff, Coroner Haines approached her.
“Miss Wurtzburg,” said the Coroner, “may I ask why you didn’t report on Detective Troy’s interference with my crime scene investigation in this case?”
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