Code of Ethics: Part 06.
The warehouse was an ancient brick structure that bore the scars of its time in the neighborhood. Jacobsen stood and stared for a moment at the LPD's most recent contribution, a motley collection of chips and scorch marks in the brick face. The barricades still stood and an assortment of Police vehicles sat at odd angles in front of the building, lights and radio transmissions alike bouncing off the walls.
The door was propped open and Jacobsen found his way into the cavernous interior. It's like some sort of crazy bazaar in here, he thought. The CSU was being very thorough but it was going to take some time to get through the assortment of crates and makeshift stalls scattered haphazardly throughout the first floor. Thirty feet away, Sergeant Kipling caught Jacobsen's eye and jerked his head briefly.
" Your suspect was here and I know that a part of this place is your crime scene but I wouldn't be lingering if I were you." He handed over a thick envelope with a bandaged hand and gestured with his chin at a collection of crates and equipment in front of them. "Your two nineteen was here, spent more than twenty five minutes in this very spot as a matter of fact. Browsed, asked a lot of questions and started to get some work done but never got what she came in here for. We spoiled the party, sort of."
The last part of the statement wasn't lost on Jacobsen. " Look," he said as the Sergeant started to turn away. " I'm sorry about what happened to your men here."
Kipling stopped and looked over his shoulder. " Oh? Because of all the catering I had to do for you, our entire operation got compromised here. Those 2 guys of mine? That kid that you were riding with? They deserve better. You know, some of your colleagues would have let us do our thing. None of that cloak and dagger shit that backfired on you, on us. At least I'm not knocking on some wife or mother's door tonight." He left and went back to the small crowd of technicians with their scanners and computers and gloves.
The guy running this particular stall was no slouch thought Jacobsen as he started to sift through the equipment. Of course, an interview with him just wasn't going to be possible. Jacobsen's HPC told him that one Peter Cho was rapidly cooling to room temperature in the back of an ME's transport and he was making the journey courtesy of a high caliber Police issue bullet that had shattered his brain stem early on in the fight. A compact assault weapon had been found in Cho's hands so he hadn't exactly gone without a struggle.
Jacobsen activated a small screen and loaded the disk already in the tray. There, with a smile that Jacobsen hadn't even thought she could posses, was Katja Kowalski. He smiled at the detail. Christ, even gave herself a last name. He scanned the first few files on the disk and the gears began to turn. An identification card, a health club membership card, even a vacation photo had been fabricated with startling clarity with Katja's face and falsified information. He let out a breath. Now this was getting serious. Katja quite clearly had no intention of going back to Corrin Tacarrin's world of sweat and filth and was taking every step to make sure of it. If she got to another place like this any time soon, his odds of retiring her would be down the tube.
So where was she now? Shit, the answer to that wouldn't come easy. He wasn't about to go into the sewers after her. Not only was it dangerous down there, the tunnels went on for miles and miles in every direction. No, King had been right. Eventually, she'd have to come up, come out of that little piece of hell and start her preparations again. But where? He looked at the material in front of him and began collecting disks.
Bryant had been right. It had taken him over nine hours to finish all of the reports due to the IG and the Assault Division. In fact, by the time he'd double-checked details and spelling, it had taken closer to ten. Now, with some tea in his stomach and the mental weight of the reports off his shoulder, Chris Jacobsen sat down in his cubicle to review his message traffic.
New interrogatories from Bryant, BOLOs from headquarters, a few personal messages. A virtual logjam of virtual messages, mused Jacobsen. But it was the routine dispatch from CSU halfway down the list that had gotten his attention.
ESPER analysis of some burned digital camera files had shown an unknown female, approximately twenty years of age with blonde hair and hazel eyes attached to a medium frame, standing with her arm around subject Katja AKA Katja Kowalski. Of even more interest was the note indicating that the image had not been enhanced in any way. This was a keepsake? And of what? Had Katja made friends that fast?
The image was blurry at best but whoever it was with Katja was a looker by any stretch. The picture was a simple head shot and there was nothing in the way of background or fine detail that was discernible even with the best equipment the department had.
Jacobsen yawned despite the development and looked at the time. Damn, was it that late? He decided that the lighting wasn't the best for further study and printed a hardcopy of the image for his pocket and the ride home.