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    1-8-7 Homicide New York: A Detective Macaulay Homicide Case
    1-8-7 Homicide New York: A Detective Macaulay Homicide Case
    1-8-7 Homicide New York: A Detective Macaulay Homicide Case
    Ebook83 pages1 hour

    1-8-7 Homicide New York: A Detective Macaulay Homicide Case

    By Ruby Binns-Cagney

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    About this ebook

    From The Author of 'Pandora's Box' and The Detective Macaulay Murders Trilogy' comes a  thriller with a tantalising twist.

    Divorce Attorney Helena Webster-Rumholdt meets her adversary while in Central Park out on a run.

    A victim's body is found in Central Park's Lake and NYPD's Homicide Detective Finkel Macaulay is called in to investigate.

    As disturbing details begin to cloud the investigation, the case is sent to FBI Special Agent Nick Benson to investigate.

    When the investigation into Helena's assault results in an increased body count, the case catapults towards a swift conclusion with explosive results.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherRuby Binns-Cagney
    Release dateJan 9, 2016
    ISBN9781524291761
    1-8-7 Homicide New York: A Detective Macaulay Homicide Case
    Author

    Ruby Binns-Cagney

    Keep in touch - sign up for new releases and save on publication day:http://books2read.com/author/ruby-binns-cagney/subscribe/1/41373/Ruby Binns-Cagney is a successful independently published Author who writes women's fiction (chick-lit) and American-based crime thrillers.Ruby's 'Detective Macaulay' crime series has a following on Twitter https://www.twitter.com/detmacaulay (@DetMacaulay)Ruby has a website and blog - read more details of her publishing services.Through her publishing company - BinnsCagneyPublishing Co - Ruby empowers others to become self-published Authors, and her Team also mentor new Authors.Free Marketing Help Signup:http://eepurl.com/3IsJPAdd her to your Google+ Circles https://plus.google.com/+RubyBinnsCagney/postsPlease visit her website:http://author-tales-of-self-publishing-books.blogspot.co.uk

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      Book preview

      1-8-7 Homicide New York - Ruby Binns-Cagney

      Chapter One

      A cold, rainy morning. My vehicle's windshield wipers metronomed across the glass hypnotically. Not a good night to be in Central Park.

      A homicide had been called in. The crime scene was a short ride from my office in Columbus Circle, Uptown New York.  I pulled up at the blue police barrier, parked my vehicle, and headed over to the uniformed Officer who controlled access to the scene.

      Can I help you Ma'am? Officer Roston White said.

      Detective Finkel Macaulay. Specialist Homicide. Officer Roston White wrote my name down onto her clipboard's sheaf of papers, now shielded from the rain by my umbrella.

      They're ready for you, over by the lake. The Officer pointed in the direction of halogen lights and white tents. I walked up to the Detectives arranged by the victim's body. Formerly an 18-acre swamp, the lake now boasted bamboo trees, and rowboat rental facilities.

      Macaulay. I thought it was your night off? Detective Eric Tomlyn said. I closed my umbrella and pulled at the peaked cap I slipped on.

      Does crime take a night off, Eric? Neither do I. The Medical Examiner, Estelle Mabius, who was positioned over the body. 

      Hey, Finkel. Caucasian female, aged between thirty and thirty-five. Single gunshot wound to the chest. Estelle fingered the hole gently.

      Large caliber, possibly a .45. Lividity suggests time of death to be around two days ago. The M.E. had completed her findings and made notes while avoiding the wet ground beneath the victim. Time of death - two days ago.

      The victim was killed elsewhere and dumped here. Any I.D. found? I got down low next to Estelle.

      Nothing found with the victim's body, Eric said. I moved forward and looked at the victim's position on the ground. The victim's lips were now devoid of all color and the pupils were fixed. What was the victim doing out here in the middle of the night? I said, and stood upright.

      I found some fibers in the gunshot wound, which means we should get some trace back at the lab, Estelle said. If we caught a break the fibers would lead us to the suspect. A uniformed Officer approached us.

      We found the victim's purse over by the garbage cans on the Bow Bridge. The Bow Bridge is at 74th Street, overlooking Central Park West. I examined the purse.

      All the credit cards and cash are gone.

      The separate plastic bag of identity documents included a driver's license and theatre ticket stubs. Detective Eric Tomlyn shone the light from his thin flashlight onto my hands. The New York driver's license identification inside the purse had an address listed, and a photograph of the victim. Jolene Applebury. Blonde, green eyes, and a porcelain white complexion. The Bow Bridge, where the purse was dumped, is at 74th Street. Overlooking Central Park West.

      Have uniforms canvass the area in a five mile radius of the bridge. Maybe somebody will recall seeing something, I said. The Officer retreated.

      Eric, get a warrant and have the Department of Motor Vehicles confirm the victim's address details, and I'll go over there after breakfast. I said.

      Yes, Boss, Eric said.

      Breakfast was a hot cup of coffee while I watched the sun rise above the trees around us. New York has amazing sunrises and sunsets. Detective Harry Bertrand approached.

      Finkel, we just got a hit off the DMV records. Harry is about to retire. After almost thirty years' service.

      What have you got? I said, and put the coffee cup onto the ground.

      The DMV had a different address for the victim. Registered in Boston. Boston. What was the victim doing in New York? 

      Put in a call to Boston PD. Have them go and interview the family.

      Harry shuffled off and I returned to my sky watch. This was the only time of day when I could control my thoughts. All the other time was compressed by conflicting demands. This was my alone time.

      Boss, we've got to go, Eric said. I followed the path back to my vehicle. The M.E. had released the crime scene and the technicians fingerprinted the victim, and took swabs for a sexual assault kit. Over by the Boathouse a light shone from the windows.

      Harry, let's check that out, I said, and pointed to the Boathouse.

      Do the Lake Conservation Committee leave the light on overnight? I said to Eric and Harry.

      I expect not, Eric said. Do you think somebody spent the night in there? Harry said. I'm not sure, but let's go see. I said, and walked back to my vehicle.

      I'm not sure I like the sound of that, Harry said, and Eric took his time to find Officer White to sign us off the list of law enforcement attending the crime scene.

      The rain had stopped, and it was a bright sun, which now bore down on us as we pulled up at the Boathouse. The heavily padlocked wooden door proved my theory. Somebody had broken in. The pane of glass in the lower half of the door was broken. I peeped inside the room through the glass.

      Storage racks on one wall for rowing boats and heavy ropes. Water butts, and a desk with boxes of manila envelopes visible on the surface.

      Nobody's home, Eric said.

      Then how come the light is now off? I said, and reached for my weapon.

      Harry, kick it in. Let's go, I said, and took up my position to the right of the door.

      Why me? Harry said, aghast at my request.

      For Christ's sake, Eric said, and kicked in the lower panel of the door. It buckled slightly

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