The young officer found a single object on which to focus. He’d heard it’d help him maintain composure at times like these. He wasn’t buying it, though and neither was his stomach.
The older, seasoned detective looked over his shoulder at the young man in the starched new blue uniform. “First one, huh, Rookie?”
“Yes, sir, “ the young man said, swallowing hard.
“Well, you’re in for a real treat, my young friend. He tossed a pair of latex gloves at his new partner, “No time like the present to learn the basics of a crime scene. Here, put these on, and come closer,” he said, crouching beside the still form. The woman, still dressed in her elegant, masked costume, lay on a bed of cigarette butts, fast food, and candy wrappers. Must have been some party. “See all this trash? Most of its recent. Looks like the lady interrupted a party, or coulda been, she was the party. You gonna need to bag every last one of these things for DNA. So, dig in.”
The young officer gulped, “Sir?” He stared wide-eyed at the older officers gloved hands as they reached forward, shining a light on the woman’s lifeless face.” He brushed the wet strings of hair from her grey face. He turned her head ever so slightly. “Find any identification?”
The young officer gulped. “No, sir… Cloudy, vacant, steel-grey eyes stared up at him, “none…” Too late.
“Aw, jeez, Mac!” The senior detective jumped back, his feet now splattered with his young mentor’s supper. “Get that greenhorn outta my crime scene.” He stared at his shoes and at the jumbled mess of evidence before him.” Damn rookies! And, swab his ass for DNA while you got him.”
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