The trees had been a perfect cover, but now they were in the way. The man could see the blood splatter and part of the body, but the topmost leaves of a Bartlett pear blocked the legs and lower abdomen. Unfortunately, this window was his only option for now. The man wanted to see all of what was going on, but besides the Bartlett pear, a large sycamore blocked a good portion of what the police had marked off. He could see two of the four officers and the detective that had just arrived. That would be Kevin Gould. The man knew not only Kevin’s name but much of his life’s history. He knew just as much, if not more, about each of the four officers. There wasn’t a single employee of the police department or the college that the man didn’t know minute details about.
Pulling himself away from the window, the man began to disassemble the gun. He placed each part in a matching imprint on a foam sheet. Once finished, he positioned a second foam sheet over the first. Both had an aluminum backing which would disguise the shape of the gun parts in a metal detector. He then slid the entire thing into a standard inter-office document pouch. Since the gun parts had been separated and laid out, the document pouch was only an inch at the widest.
The man returned to the window. He watched the scene for a few more minutes, then noticed he was rubbing his left forearm with the fingers of his right hand. He was amazed that after all this time, he still felt crippled without a TacCom. He’d worn one constantly from when he was fifteen to when he was twenty-five. It had become as much a part of him as his hands were. The thought brought bitterness. The bitterness brought anger. He gripped his forearm tightly almost to the point of drawing blood. He looked down at the scene and focused on the blood splatter, and let himself enjoy the very rare luxury of a smile.