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Trip Like I Do
"Jesus," Lorna said, pulling off the rubber gloves. "This girl's a mess. Obvious signs of forced sexual assault, both vaginal and anal, a broken jaw, a broken wrist, bruises on the ribs, and three plastic shopping bags shoved down her throat, tearing the connective tissue under the tongue and rupturing the esophagus."
"Homicides with prostitutes usually this brutal?" Holly asked.
"No," Lorna replied. "What makes you think she's a prostitute?"
"Just a hunch. So when do I get a copy of the report?"
"Well, let me double check it and sign it, then I'll photocopy it for you," Lorna smiled.
"So," Holly said, hopping off the counter. Lorna noted that she dropped at least two feet to the floor. "I guess I'm supposed to go out and find clues, huh?"
"You're totally lost, aren't you?" Lorna asked with a laugh.
"Well, they kinda threw me into this. I mean, I've been trained for detective work, but it's a lot different being out in the field."
"I understand," Lorna said. "When I first started here, the M.E. who was working at the time handed an internal to me on a ped versus m.v., a real mess. I asked him what I should do and he told me to 'scrap the guy.' When I pointed out that the guy was already scrapped, he told me to put him back together, then scrap him."
Holly laughed while taking out a notebook from her purse. She flipped through a few pages of notes, probably detective protocol Lorna thought, before she found what she was looking for.
"Speaking of which," Holly said. "When do I find out the toxicology and stuff?"
"The chem tests take a few days," Lorna said. "Sometimes less if they're not too busy, but unless the case is top priority they're going to take their time. David will send the parts to the various departments and we'll let you know."
"Can I ask you a question?" Holly said in an embarrassed tone. "You spend a lot of time around detectives. Where do they go to find information on a body that's been dumped?"
"Well, my role model for proper detective work would probably go out for a Szechuan pizza," Lorna replied. "But I'd probably start where the body was found. See if there are any restaurants or motels in the area and start showing her picture."
"Hey!" Holly smiled. "That's a good idea."
"You want me to come along?" Lorna asked. "You know, just for moral support? People might take you more seriously if you have a partner."
"Sure," Holly said. "That sounds great, I appreciate that."
"No problem," Lorna replied. "Hey David, can you finish up?"
"You ask this of the guy who finishes just about every internal?" David asked from the far side of the room.
"Sarcasm will get you nowhere," Lorna said. "Besides, now that I'm the boss I need to learn how to abuse my power. I'll be on pager if you need me."
"In case there's a bladder-draining emergency?" David said, raising an eyebrow.
"Cleaning up after your incontinence isn't in my job description," Lorna replied, walking through the door.
Holly laughed and followed her.
The alley where the girl had been found was littered with broken glass, cigarette butts, and empty soda cans. The police tape still hung around the scene, unmolested despite the fact that no officers had been present for several hours. From scene notes taken by the arriving officer, Holly identified the spot, next to a dumpster, where the girl was originally found.
They didn't have long to stand around wondering what to do next before one of the doors leading into the alley opened. A small, ratty man in a white smock and hair net was dragging an overly-stuffed bag of trash toward one of the dumpsters. He stopped to pull a cigarette out of his pocket and, when he noticed them, he took a few long drags from it while watching them lecherously.
"You tourists?"
"No," Lorna said. "I live in Twin Peaks."
"I mean," the man said, rolling his eyes, "are you hear for the murder?"
"You could say that," Holly said.
"You people are sick," he spit. "So what are you wiccan? Looking for 'magical energies'? Or just into the murder scene?"
"Neither," Holly replied, pulling out her badge. "I'm Detective Bayre. This is my partner Detective Perry."
"Oh, sorry," the man said with an embarrassed laugh. "They've been in and out of here all day."
"Who?"
"The wackos," he clarified. "People get fascinated by death. They come looking for blood, body parts, murder weapons. Whatever they can find. There's clubs for that stuff on the internet. The more coverage a murder gets on the news, the more people want souvenirs."
"You work at this restaurant?" Lorna asked, gesturing to the door he'd come out of.
"Club," the man said. "It's a dance club called The Rage. I'm Al, I work in the kitchen here."
"Did you know the victim?" Holly asked.
"Sorry," Al shrugged. "I can't say her face was in too recognizable a condition when I saw her last."
"How about this?" Lorna said, pulling out a photograph of the girl's face; it had been taken after she'd been cleaned up, before the autopsy.
"Yeah," Al said, pointing his finger. "Yeah, now that you put it like that. She calls herself Trip. One of our local packages. Shame, she was a nice girl."
"Package?" Holly asked. "What do you mean?"
"The Rage is a candy bar," Al said. He waited for a moment, then saw that the two lady cops didn't understand what he was talking about. "Ok, this is the kind of place where someone, say, a lawyer or doctor or somebody with a reputation to protect, can come and find himself a piece of girlie without worrying about getting a statutory charge or, worse, getting found out by the Missus."
"So Trip was a prostitute?" Holly asked.
"Sometimes," Al nodded. "Then again, sometimes she just gave it away for free. Depended on her mood and how much she had to drink."
"Minors can drink here?" Lorna asked.
"They don't get served by our bartender, if that's what you're asking."
"By any chance," Holly said, "does the club keep a video surveillance? I'm hoping we might get a picture of the guy she left with."
"I told you," Al said. "This is the kinda place guys come to when they don't want the police to get their picture. But, I can save you the trouble. See that deli across the street there? They guy who works there, his name's Rick. He was one of Trip's regulars."
"Thanks Al," Holly said. "If I have any more questions I'll be back. And if you think of anything else, here's my card."
"If I didn't know better," Lorna said, as they crossed the street, "I'd say you almost have a nose for this."
"Thanks," Holly said, with a nervous giggle. "It was like I was on TV."
The two entered the deli and found it occupied by two people. The man behind the counter, a body builder with blow-dried blond hair and a comically large cleft in his chin that reminded most people of Huey Lewis, was slapping together a sandwich for the customer, a short, round man in shorts and a Hawaiian shirt. Lorna and Holly stood behind the man as if they were in line. When the man got his sandwich and left, the guy behind the counter flashed them a toothy smile.
"What can I get you ladies?" he said.
"Are you Rick?" Holly asked.
"That depends on whether you represent my lawyer or my ex-wife's," Rick smiled.
"Neither," Holly replied, pulling out her badge. "I'm Detective Bayre and this is Detective Perry."
"Police?" Rick asked. "In that case, no, I'm not Rick. My name is Pedro. Sorry no habla ingleses."
"Rick," Lorna said, "we're investigating the murder of a young girl who frequented the club across the street. A girl named Trip. Do you know her?"
"Trip," Rick thought. "Nope, sorry, doesn't ring a bell."
"Here's a picture of her," Lorna said, pulling out the photo. Rick stared at it and frowned for a moment while scratching his chin.
"Sorry," he said, after a moment. "Don't recognize her."
"You never saw her at the club?" Lorna asked.
"Nope."
"You never even danced with her?" Holly asked, leaning on her elbows and folding her arms in front of herself. She was batting her eyelashes at Rick in an extremely flirtatious manner. Rick noticed.
"I'm uh," he smiled. "I'm not much of a dancer."
"Really?" Holly bubbled. "Could have fooled me. You certainly have the body for it. You don't go to The Rage?"
"I've been there once or twice," Rick said. "But not recently."
"Really? A handsome guy like you?" Holly said. "I would have thought you would be in there all the time. I bet you have all the girls all over you when you go out to the clubs."
"I wouldn't say 'all over me,'" Rick laughed.
"So what's wrong with it?" Holly asked. "Is it bent?"
"What?" Rick said, confused.
"Your dick. Is it bent? Or just short?" Holly was still smiling and leaning over the counter, but her flirtatious attitude was gone. She held up her pinky in front of Rick and wiggled it, laughing. "I know, I bet it's really long and thin."
"What's your problem, bitch?" Rick snapped, trying to recover his composure.
"Sorry," Holly said. "I just assumed that a good-looking guy like you who had to resort boning little girls, there must be something wrong downstairs."
"Hey!" Rick snapped. "I never asked how old she was. She looked like she was old enough."
"You might want to call someone to let them know you're closing the store," Holly said, standing up. Rick shook his head and looked away. He couldn't face her knowing he'd just given himself away.
"If your DNA matches the semen we took from her body," Lorna said, "you realize that you're going to be arrested for murder, right?"
"Oh, that's a relief," Rick said, his tense frame relaxed.
"What do you mean?" Holly asked.
"Well, if DNA is all you're basing your case on, I'm home free," Rick said. "I never had sex with her."
"So what did you do with her?" Holly asked.
"All right," Rick said, slightly embarrassed. "I like to, you know, watch. That's what I hired her to do, let me watch her with another guy."
"Who was the other guy?"
"David Rentino," Rick said. "He's one of the bouncers at the club. She left with him afterwards."
"Our little Trip certainly got around, didn't she?" Lorna said.
"Rick, don't leave town," Holly told. "I'm going across the street to talk to Mr. Rentino. If your story doesn't check out you're in deep shit."
"Tell me something," Rick said with a broad grin. "How does such a cute little thing like you get such a tough mouth?"
"Fending off macho assholes," Holly smiled back, then walked out of the deli. Lorna shrugged at Rick and followed her.
"By the way," Rick called. Lorna turned around and noticed that Rick's face was suddenly very serious. "Her name wasn't Trip. That was just her club name. Terri Trip. Her real name was Theresa Banks."
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