No. 5104

As she was headed out through the police station lobby, Andrea was surprised to see Simon Walker standing near the exit, talking animatedly into his bluetooth headset.

It was a pet-peeve of Andrea's when people would do that in public places, looking like a crazy person talking to themselves as they bellowed their private conversation to everyone around.

For Simon, it sounded like a case wasn't going too well.

She wondered for a moment if she might be able to find another exit in order to avoid him. Hopefully he would be too busy with his conversation to bother her.

"…don't care what the agreement was..." She heard him say as she approached. "…Yeah, actually, it is a big deal—Oh hey, Andi, I didn't expect to see you here." As he noticed her, his brow raised and the scowl erupted into a bright smile. He tapped his ear to put his call on hold.

"Hi, Simon." She slowed down enough to be polite, hoping not to get caught in a conversation, but then stopped on a whim. "Oh! Just quickly, has anyone ever called you…um, Finding Nemo…?"

His smile faltered a little, but he was still obviously pleased she'd stopped.

"Did Wynn tell you that? It took weeks to shake that nickname! Don't tell me he's started again—"

"What? Who? Kyle? No, no, I must have heard it from… you know, never mind."

"Listen, do you have plans for lunch?" he asked, checking his watch.

"Ahh, I think this is going to be another no-lunch kind of day." She offered a smile while waving her pile of paperwork and shrugging. "You know how it is."

Simon laughed. "I know how that goes. Another time then," he said agreeably. No matter how many times Andrea turned down his offers, it never seemed to bother him. "Don't work too hard!" He tapped his ear again and returned to his conversation. "What was that… No, no, just saying 'Hi' to a friend, carry on…"

* * *

Andrea decided that she wanted to visit Kyle's apartment first. She wasn't optimistic about discovering anything the police had overlooked, but she knew she wouldn't be satisfied until she had double checked.

The Castilian Building where Kyle lived had a full time security guard manning the lobby. Kyle had explained to Andrea that to get to his apartment, she would need to take the express elevator, but not being a resident, she would need the guard to give her access. Unfortunately, the guard turned out to be incredibly unhelpful.

It didn't matter what she said, how she explained she was a lawyer involved with the case, or that she had permission, or that the police at the crime scene were expecting her. Without someone from the police department to confirm her identity, he wasn't going to let her up, or even call up to the police officer to ask.

Andrea had just resigned herself to having to call back to the precinct to get them to straighten things out, when a voice called from behind her, "It's okay, buddy, she's with me."

Looking over her shoulder, she saw a tall heavyset man in a long untied gray trench coat. He had a dark red waistcoat that was stretched tightly over his stomach. As he reached into his coat pocket, Andrea thought she could see a leather shoulder holster.

He pulled out a badge and waved it rapidly at the guard. "Detective Leo Steel. You want to get the elevator for us, or are you going to just keep wasting our time?"

The guard reluctantly pulled himself to his feet and waddled over to the express elevator, swiping an electronic keycard to grant them access.

"These mall-cops like to throw their weight around," Steel whispered conspiratorially. "And this guy has more weight to throw than most."

As they stepped into the elevator, Steel pulled out a packet of cigarettes and a lighter.

"Sir, this is a no smoking building," the guard protested.

"Yeah?" said Steel, as the elevator doors closed. "Then I guess you'd better call the cops!"

"Smoke?" Steel offered the pack to Andrea, who waved it away, trying to stand as far away in the enclosed space as she could without it being obvious. Steel shrugged and tucked the packet away before looking her up and down. It didn't feel lecherous to her, more like she was sizing her up professionally.

"You must be Mason," he said, offering his hand to her. When she shook it, it felt rough and calloused. "So what do you think, did our boy do it?"

'Straight to the point, I supposed,' Andrea thought.

"That remains to be proven," she said.

"Ha! That's a lawyer's answer if I ever heard one." He took another drag on his cigarette. "You ever hear why sharks don't eat lawyers?"

"Professional courtesy," replied Andrea. Lawyer jokes were popular at law school.

Steel grinned and nodded. "So is that what you really believe, or is this just a case of professional courtesy?"

Andrea didn't much like the implication, nor enjoy what felt a lot like an interrogation. Fortunately the elevator arrived at their destination. As Andrea stepped out, it was obvious which door led to the crime scene. Unit 5104 had police tape stretched across the opening and a uniformed officer standing guard.

Andrea waved at the officer as she approached. "Andrea Mason. We spoke on the phone." The officer nodded to her as she ducked under the police tape. "Oh, and it's okay, he's with me," she called over her shoulder as Steel arrived at the door.

He gave a grunt as he lowered himself enough to make it under the tape, and then gave the officer a lazy salute. "Much obliged, my badge waving hand was getting tired."

They both stood in silence for a moment, taking in the enormity of the apartment.

Andrea could have guessed that it belonged to an unmarried man. It had that cold modern look full of monochrome shades, sharp edges and brushed metal that passed for style when you had no sense for how to match colors or add decoration. It suggested someone who thought 'clean looking' was more important than feeling warm and homely, and ironically, was probably far harder to keep clean as a result.

Steel whistled to himself. "You ever see a palace like this at this kind of altitude? It's like a flying-freaking-castle!"

Andrea walked through the room, being careful not to touch anything. She had to agree, the size of the room and number of doorways leading off to other areas of the condo made it feel like a luxury townhouse. But there was no ignoring the magnificent view over the park and the rest of the city visible through the far wall, which was floor-to-ceiling glass.

Andrea could have believed that the apartment was just as it had looked in the sales brochure. Everything from the high-end electronics to the genuine leather livingroom set spoke of luxury and expense, but nothing about the personality of the person who lived here.

Steel headed to the kitchen, which was the one area that looked like some love had been invested. It was also the only splash of color, both from the fruits laid out in bowls on the counter and the bookshelf full of cook books positioned incongruously next to the fridge. Andrea had never known someone so into their cooking that they needed a bookshelf in the kitchen.

Steel took out a handkerchief and carefully pulled out one of the knives from the knife block to examine it. When he caught her looking at him, he said, "Not the blade used for the murder, but wicked sharp. Someone could do some real butchery with these."

Andrea knew that a lot of detectives grew desensitized to all the crime they had been exposed to, but Steel seemed very callous in his attitude.

She wasn't sure what she was looking for, but the most likely place to find evidence was going to be the murder scene itself. The door to the bedroom was barely ajar. Andrea pushed it open… and then slammed it shut.

"You okay over there, Mason?" Steel called from the kitchen.

"Fine! Just fine," Andrea said, swallowing down bile that threatened to rise in her throat. She thought she had been ready, but the crime scene photos didn't do justice to the real thing.

She opened the door again, and something seemed odd to her that she couldn't put her finger on. Looking down, there was a trail of scuff marks in the carpet from the various police investigators who must have been in and out of here. But there was an unusual mark to one side of the doorway, opposite from the hinge. She pulled out her phone and took a quick photo.

Steel lumbered up behind her and looked over her shoulder into the room. While the body had been removed, the bed was still drenched with blood. It was somehow more disturbing to Andrea than the cold, cleaned body of Beatrix had been. The room was a testament to the violence that had been done.

Steel sighed sadly. "Like I said, butchery. I'll tell you what, Mason, I've seen a whole lot of crime scenes in some of the filthiest rat-infested hovels of this city, but nothing comes close to the nightmares that go on in these high rise palaces when some rich bastard thinks the law can't touch him."

Andrea objected to comparing Kyle to people like that. It didn't fit with the kind of man she knew him to be. …She was a little surprised to discover herself mentally defending him though.

'Defending him IS my job,' she thought.

Steel took another drag on his cigarette. Andrea had to wonder if smoking would contaminate the crime scene, but she supposed any relevant smells in the air would have long since faded.

Andrea forced herself to look closer at the bed, being very careful not to touch anything. There was nothing else obvious she could see.

"Is the note still in the kitchen?" she called out to Steel, who had wandered back into the main apartment.

"What note?" he called back. "I didn't see anything, maybe CSI took it in."

Andrea explored the rest of the apartment, but discovered nothing else of significance. Frustratingly, the trip had so far appeared to be a waste of time, but there was still one other person in the building she wanted to talk with while she was here.