Bane

November 19, 1993

"So, he shoots this one, throws a knife in this one... and then this one commits suicide?"

"L.C.?"

"What'd I say? Don't call me that, Bookie."

"Don't call me 'Bookie', L.C..."

L.C. grunted. "Textbook, don't be a tool. We've got bigger fish to fry than arguing over your name."

Detective Fallon stared. "Are you freaking kidding me?"

"When did I get a sense of humor? Again, from the top."

"That's the assistant D.A... she went missing a year ago. The woman with the knife in her chest went missing two years back. Highschool teacher. Not as high profile as the the D.A. or our third. Our mysterious suicide. She was Doctor Melissa Kinsley. Missing six months ago."

"What was the caliber in the bullet that killed the assistant D.A.?"

"Ballistics hasn't called it yet. May not until after autopsy."

"I'll tell you what I think, Bookie."

"L.C.?"

"I think they're going to find a hole in her chest about the size of point five-oh. If the bullet is still in her, it's going to be gold. If not, odds are there's a pretty big exit wound."

"Your guy kills helpless women now?"

Polovatski scratched at the stubble on his cheeks. "I don't know."

"You always know."

"Not when it comes to him. My hunches don't really work with him."

"That's why they're called hunches." Fallon stepped up beside Polovatski.

"There's a pattern in this, though. Something worse than Bane. I don't know what a high school teacher has to do with this... but why is there a doctor, and an assistant D.A. found dead at Twin Knolls?"

"I give up, why?"

"No, Bookie. I'm really asking. Why these three? What the hell do they have in common?"

Detectives Polovatski, and Fallon stood there staring at the scene.

"Detectives!" A uniformed officer half-walked, half-ran to them. "L.C., the coroner's here."

✟ ☧ ✟

"Good afternoon, detectives."

L.C. checked his watch. One minute after twelve. She was right about the time. L.C. wondered how she handled a crime scene.

L.C. and Fallon stood next to the coroner. L.C. ever brusque, cleared his throat. "I don't believe we've met."

"I know who you are, Detectives. I'm Deputy Coroner Faith Goodwife."

"You're married?"

"No, Detective Polovatski. That's my name."

Fallon gave L.C. a look.

"I was going to say. It's a pretty big statement saying you're a good wife."

"God, they were right about you." Goodwife wore a disgusted expression.

The straight-faced detective cocked an eyebrow. "I hope it wasn't anything good."

" Alright, I'll bite. Why wouldn't I be a good wife? All the work?"

"No wedding ring. You're not married."

Goodwife smirked. "Maybe I leave the wedding ring at home."