posted on Jun, 16 2010 @ 06:16 PM
When I got the call they told me the victim was the Reverend Norbert Cortez. His wife had found his body in the living room. Cause of death – blow
to the head with a blunt object. Time of death – 1.5 to 2 hours ago. The wife and son had been at a hockey game. He played, I'll check on the
wife. I hate the lights at crime scenes; I don’t know how they search the area for clues with it all lit-up. I donned my gloves before entering
the house. The whole area would be combed for clues. The street looked quiet. It was a nice home, typical two-story cookie cutter house in an
upscale suburban subdivision. I followed the stepping-stones to the door and entered. CSI was already working the scene. The Reverend was laying
face down on the rose Berber carpet. There was a torn tithe envelope sprinkled over the body like a confetti decoration. He was a huge man, at least
6'4" and 200 lbs. - solid. His right temple was deeply depressed. There was no blood spatter on the sofa – a light mint green with pink
flowers, nor on the off white walls. How could anyone kill a man so huge without any sign of struggle? There was a damp spot to the left of body in
front of a white glass top table. There was a tabletop fountain gurgling and a photo of a tall Hispanic man with dark hair and a woman with long
blond hair. They are both smiling at the camera, but not touching each other. There was a large tree in between the couple. The picture frame was
glass and the pane was cracked.
"Hey Al, what's the wet spot?" I asked Al, the chief CSI.
"Looks like plain tap water, I took a sample," Al replied.
"Thanks, why no blood splatter?"
"Must have been on the floor before he was struck."
"So why would he lay on the floor and let someone bash his head in?" I was talking to myself, but Al answered, "Don't know, we'll do a tox screen
when we get him to the morgue."
I nodded, and noticed a brass armadillo near a chair on the adjacent wall. It was near to the back door, probably used as a doorstop; some people sure
have strange taste. "Hey Al, think this 'dillo might be the murder weapon?"
"Let me check it, Findlay." He came over, sprayed the base, and swabbed a spot of dark substance. He put the mix in a tester then held it up.
"Definitely human blood, I'll bag it to see whose blood it is." He carried it over to the body and turned it tentatively. "Seems to match the
wound, good eye, Findlay, I'll check it for prints too."
Check the photo for prints too," I told Al.
The wife and son were in the family room. They had a huge new flat screen and a leather sofa with reclining sections at both ends. Being a Reverend
must pay more than I thought. They also had a top of the line computer with all the trimmings: printer, scanner, fax, video cam, speakers, CD and DVD
drivers – robbery probably wasn't the motive here. They were on the couch. The son had his arm around his mom's shoulder. She was crying.
"Ma'am, I'm very sorry for your loss, did your husband have any enemies?" I asked gently.
"Yes, those people who were trying to split the church, but I didn't think they would do this to poor Norbert, he was such a good man."
Mrs. Cortez, we will find who ever did this. Can you give some names?"
"Debbie and Joe Montague, she was the secretary, but Norbert had to ask her to step down, and Joyce and Clarence Bryant, he was a janitor and Joyce
worked in the nursery. Norbert paid him well for the work, but he said my husband was a crook and a liar." She started sobbing again.
"Why did he think that Mrs. Cortez?"
"I don't know, Norbert said it was some sort of impropriety, but he wouldn't say exactly. Oh, and Rosalie Dangerfield. She was the pianist and
then she started writing letters to everyone about poor Norbert."
"What did she say, do have any of these letters?"