109 Accidental Death (1/2)

Until one Sunday afternoon, a call came into the station.

”Evie, we need to go to the site!” Nash called over.

”What do we have today?” Hopefully, a family dispute that we could talk out.

”Demolition workers went inside an abandoned house to check the premises and found the body of a boy.” I stiffened.

”What does that mean?” I asked.

”They called the emergency services but the child had been long dead before the workers came in.”

”Were there signs of trauma or anything?” I asked as he hopped into the car.

”No, they found blood on the corner of his lips trickling down. No visible sign of trauma. They've preserved the scene as best as they could but there are people from all over the neighborhood flocking to the site. The medical practitioner is coming to the scene, too.” I nodded.

As we entered the society, I realized that it was one of those tightly-knit neighborhoods where everyone knew their neighbors and the kids played together. There were elderly couples lounging on the porches and women with strollers walking on the streets.

The yellow tape marked the boundary between the crime scene and the world. The location was a poorly preserved house, it hadn't been painted in a while or occupied for that matter. I looked around the faces in the crowd and stopped over the irate woman who was kneeling on the floor.

”That should be the mother,” I told Nash. He glanced over and nodded.

”Let's head in. We can talk to her after inspecting the site.” We bent under the tape and were greeted by officers with pen and paper. I smiled at them politely and went in.

Dust particles flew in the air but from the floor, you could see signs of use. Not estranged footprints from the scene but well used. I kneeled down beside the body of the boy. No more than five years of age. His pale skin told me everything I needed to know. He'd been dead for a while now.

”Estimated time of death should be sometime around this morning,” I whispered.

The medical practitioner had already arrived.

”Hi guys,” the female said. She knelt down, fully in gear and taking pictures. ”Time of death is today... preferably six to eight hours ago.” It was five in the evening. So before noon.

”You really are a ghastly presence, aren't you?” Nash commented. I looked at him passively. The woman looked over at her, eyeing her with keen eyes.

I stood up and looked around the room carefully.

But how had this boy ended up on the floor of an empty house?

”I suspect it is an accidental death,” she said. I looked at her.

”It does look that way, doesn't it?” Nash sighed. ”Poor kid,” he stared at the boy.

Nash had a young son as well, a little older than this boy. I patted his back and he shook his head. ”We'll know more if we open him up, right?” he asked.

We didn't want any bases to be left uncovered.

”Okay, we need to transport the body to the morgue. I'll start on the process.” I stopped her short.

”I'll talk to the mother. We can ask her for permission.” It would be hard. No mother would want their little boy to be cut open. But I felt my gut scream. This was not an accidental death. What could have caused it?

I got rid of the gloves and scrub shoes and went over to the boy's mother.

”Ma'am,” I called her, placing a hand on her shoulder. I didn't call her too loudly. She looked up, her eyes bloodshot from tears.

She sniffled as she tried to say something. ”Are you with the police?” she asked. I nodded and kneeled down beside her. ”My poor boy. My Patrick!” she sobbed, hiding her face in her hands.