Clothed in our grief

Chapter Seventeen

"Detective Morris, I don't think I want to te-"

"Answer, now."

"It's plastic, alright. Where did you find it?" He asked, glasses nearly falling off of his face and away from teal eyes that were hidden by dark chestnut hair.

"The eye socket. There 'were fleshy bits-"
"I'm focusing in on the eye socket from where I'm sitting, do you mind holding it up to the camera?" Johnson quickly cut off the young detective, though she's called young a lot? She can't be any older than twenty three.

Detective Morris scrunched her eyebrows together, and visibly cringed after hearing Johnson's request.

"You want me to pick up a bloody severed head and show you it, up close to the camera? Just look at the sodding pictures sent to the lab." She was quick to backfire off an insulting way of speaking as a retort, visibly distressed by the question.

"Yeah, and they haven't come in yet and I'm seeing something in the bone around the tissue. I'm not an anthropologist, but once he gets here he can give you a more clear answer."

"Right you aren't. Commish, am I allowed to do this or am I still not allowed to physically touch more evidence than I already am?" She turned to ask, an inch past the center of her back length blonde hair moved as her body did. The clips in her hair being the only thing keeping her bangs from directly falling into the evidence. And a black hair tie that keeps the rest in a low ponytail is what keeps the rest from doing the same.

"It's a learning progression, you have the go ahead from now on." Gordon replied, sticking his hands in the pockets of the brown coat he's wearing. Waiting for gotham's well know vigilante to come off some rooftop with that kid by his side. Or for Robin to step out of a shadow, only following his mentor. The kids probably going to have a sour look on his face, as he usually does. God, Gordon doesn't know how many side kicks that Bat's had, but he knows one thing is for sure. It's like with each one? They get a bit darker in comparison to their predecessor. Especially the second compared to the first, and the sixth compared to the fifth. The fifth one was a girl, not much was very dark about her really. On certain cases involving one criminal in particular, though. She'd just shut down and refuse to work it with anybody on any legal team. She didn't last very long, but there's a rumor she was the second person to take the Batgirl mantle.

"Surface lacerations to the orbital fracture, just my guess but that those shards aren't plastic now that i'm taking a closer look at the actual wound. It's a type of metal, one that can cause a break in the bone. Was the weapon still in the eye?" Johnson asked, only for detective Morris to nod her head and cringe while doing so, staring at the back of the severed head in her hands. Placing the head down, and picking up an evidence bag. what did this evidence bag hold? A bottle of nail polish.

Not just any, but one with a very different type of lid and bottle. The tip of the lid is broken off, in the victim's eye socket. Now the lid...it's sharpened, to a point. More so than the company did to the bottle originally. but the lid to it was sharpened to be a weapon.

The lid just by it's self was about three inches long, and narrow. sharp enough to kill someone, but this wasn't the murder weapon.

"Red nail polish, that's a really interesting looking bottle. Is there a brand on the side of it you can tell me?"
"Christian Louboutin."
"Don't you wear shoes from that brand? I mean, the red soles are like, their thing. right?"
"And does that make me a suspect?" There were heavy amounts of sarcasm in her voice, and hints of disbelief. Knowing Johnson, he might say yes out of annoyance for her alone. But another voice interrupted the conversation between the two.