The forensic team had taken their photos, marked the area, and placed almost every conceivable, microscopic scrap of anything they could find in evidence envelopes. Once satisfied they’d been as thorough as humanly possible, they called for the coroner. Now that the body could be moved, they gently turned it over so they could take more photos.
“Hey, what d’you guys make of this?”
One member of the forensic team was gently holding the victim’s left arm and had the coat sleeve pulled up. There on his forearm was some kind of form-fitting plate. It looked like someone had melted wax and let it cover the forearm, but there were several oddly placed indentations near the elbow joint. The plate was strapped to the forearm by some sort of smooth elastic, and on the underside of was another plate, this one flat and form-fitted, but evenly rectangular, about an inch and a half wide and seven or so inches long.
“Leave it there; you may mess something up if you handle it,” Kevin warned.
They lowered the arm and continued with the photos.
“Who’s in charge here?”
Kevin turned to see a shortish, rounded, middle-aged man who held himself with an air of expected authority. He strode into the crime scene but stopped well back from the body.
“President Payton, I’m Detective Gould,” Kevin offered his hand. The college president took it and returned a quick handshake. His eyes roamed the crime scene taking in everything. Then he looked at the victim and closed his eyes.
“I was hoping you’d made a mistake about who had been shot.” His shoulders seemed to droop and he looked up at Kevin. “When did you call the Memorite Society?”
“The Memorite Society? Uh...the only person I’ve called so far is you.”
“Well, they called me shortly after you did asking about Professor Engstrom. They seemed to already know he was dead.”
Kevin stared at the ground with a puzzled look. “I know the Chief wouldn’t have called anyone without telling me so I can’t imagine how they...wait a minute.” Kevin strode over to the body and lifted the left arm, exposing the strange device for Payton to see. “D’you have any idea what this is?”
“I believe the Professor called it a tack ‘em or something like that. It’s a communication device. All Memorites wear them.”
“What does it communicate? Voice, video?”
Payton gave Kevin an almost patronizing look. “You don’t know a lot about Memorites, do you?”
Growing impatient, Kevin lowered the victim’s arm, stood up, folded his arms, and said, “Okay, educate me.”
“Memorites can communicate in almost pure data when they want to,” pointing to the victim’s arm, he continued, “That device allows Professor Engstrom to ‘download’ massive amounts of data, that he would memorize instantly. He transmitted information by tapping on it in some sort of code. Apparently, it’s a very complicated code because I watched him once send an entire 12-page schematic in just a few seconds.”
Kevin’s left eyebrow slowly rose.
“So it could have been sending biological data which would have alerted whoever’s on the other end that the Professor’s dead?”
Payton seemed intrigued, “Yes, I supposed it could. That must have been how they knew. I really need to call them back as soon as I can and let them know more details. Is Professor Walser here?”
“Walser?” Kevin looked puzzled, “Why would he be here?”
“He’s also a Memorite,” Payton told him.
Kevin stared past Payton, frowning, thinking.
“So he’s not here?”
Kevin looked back at Payton, “No,” He answered, “but, uh...we’ll definitely be talking with him, soon.”
Another car pulled up with a flashing light in the window. That would be Ben Tucker. Kevin had been on duty for quite a while and the Chief had probably felt that he could use some help.
“I hate to sound...well, insensitive, detective, but,” Payton looked embarrassed, “How soon can we get all this cleaned up? I know you need to gather evidence, but I’d really rather the college not be remembered with images of blood splatter and corpses. And the media will be here very soon.”
“The media?” Kevin looked puzzled.
“Yes, look at this crowd,” the president lowered his voice and leaned closer. “You don’t think any of these kids called home to tell mommy and daddy about all the excitement? By now every TV and radio station and newspaper in a 50-mile radius has heard about it and are sending an army of reporters and cameras.” Payton looked even more worried.
“How’s it goin’ Kev?” Ben Tucker approached casually.
“Professor Payton, this is detective Tucker,” Kevin said. The two shook hands and exchanged brief greetings.
“Kevin you look beat.”
“Yeah, I am. Let me catch you up on things. But first,” Kevin made sure Payton could here, “as soon as we can we need to let President Payton have his cleaning people clean this up.”
“Right, I’ll make that top priority,” Ben said to Payton.