They'll Call It Treason (2 page)

April 17 at 7:05
a.m.
EST

Raleigh, North Carolina

The SUV thumped along I-40. Ethan Shaw did his best to avoid the potholes and ruts scattered over the surface, but no one was that good. Since the drive down from Norfolk the clouds had darkened and covered the sun. A light rain had started, keeping the wipers busy.

Eyes on the road, Ethan listened to his partner go over the case details.

“According to the Capitol Police report, the victim’s name is Representative Riley Daniels, from Collettsville, North Carolina.” Special Agent Jason Phelps paused and laughed, “Collettsville? That sounds awful back woodsy don’t you think?”

“Yeah, just a little. Be easy on the country folk though, they don’t take too kindly to us city slickers,” Ethan joked in his best country accent as he steered the rental car off the interstate.

Jason chuckled, then returned to the report. Ethan continued to listen as he peered out the window. Rain streamed down the glass and obscured his view. His arms flexed under his coat sleeve as he turned the wheel, taking them down a smaller city street. Ethan was in his mid-thirties, a former Marine Recon sniper turned FBI field agent five years earlier. He had never been a huge fan of the government, so he figured the best way to keep them in check was to get a job with them.

“Known associates and friends, Sanford Robertson, Kim Thurmond, a Representative Glen Jacobson…” Jason’s voice faded away as Ethan’s mind slipped to more attractive thoughts for a moment, Kate in particular.

Dark chocolate eyes, lush sandy blond hair. She was the one, at least he hoped so. It being a long distance relationship for the past two years had helped none. Kate had accepted a job offer at North Carolina State University teaching Political Science. Ethan was stuck in Norfolk where he had met Kate, with no plans on moving.

“Only about five minutes from the crime scene, Ethan,” Jason said, giving Ethan’s shoulder a pat to reel him back in. “You weren’t listening to a word I said, were you?”

“I caught it…” He paused for effect while merging onto Capital Boulevard, “the first time you went over it on the plane.”

With a grin and light snicker Jason shook his head. Ethan remembered the briefing well. A North Carolina State Representative had been murdered late in the night under half a mile from the Legislature Building. Stabbed to death and left in a dark doorway where he had been found earlier that morning.

Under normal circumstances the case would not merit the FBI’s interest. Especially not an out-of-state team. This one did. The two had been following a series of homicides – alleged assassinations – of political figures over the past four years mostly along the eastern seaboard. They had to be sure this one was not related.

It had been Jason who had convinced Ethan to let his military enlistment expire and enter the FBI Academy five years earlier. Now the two high school friends were tasked with finding and rooting out domestic terrorist groups before they could strike.

Fortunately, the rain was lightening. Ethan was not fond of getting soaked. Signaling they were close, the Edenton Street United Methodist Church towered over them on the left shoulder. Ethan was relatively familiar with the area. Kate frequented the capital with classes and for her own political ventures, which if he was honest with himself, he did enjoy.

Two streets down the trees gave way to the Old State Capitol Building, its neoclassical grey stone structure drawing to its domed top. Ethan diverted his attention from the building and back onto the road as he pulled the SUV onto Fayetteville Street.

They moved past the mesh of buildings crowding the street side until they reached West Martin, where the report stated Representative Daniels had been found. It was easy to find. A series of squad cars, blue lights flashing brilliantly, blocked the entrance to the road. Just beyond the roadblock a small, dwindling crowd was assembled along the yellow Do Not Cross tape.

Unable to spot any obvious parking nearby, Ethan pulled the rental onto the curb beside a mail stand and put it in park. Stepping out of the SUV, Ethan took in the mix of departments present based on the cruisers around the scene: a few Capitol Police, a Wake County Sheriff and a scattering of local Raleigh police.

“Here we go,” he nodded to Jason as he came around the front of the car. Standing at six foot one Jason’s coltish demeanor towered three inches over Ethan’s taut presentation. Ethan took a deep breath, taking in the damp morning air to ground himself before seeing the body. He pushed down on his jacket, unkinking it from the ride in the SUV.

As they made their way toward the crime scene, Ethan spotted a man in a black suit coming their way. As they reached the police tape Jason instinctively lifted the tape and ducked under it with Ethan right behind him.

“Hey, can’t you read? You two need to stay behind the line.” It was the man in the black suit, waving at them to get back. His voice was deep, reeking of confidence, and his chest bulged.

Ethan flashed open his badge, and the man’s self-assurance disappeared.

“I’m Special Agent Ethan Shaw, FBI, and this is my partner Special Agent Jason Phelps,” Ethan said while absently pointing to Jason. “We’re here to investigate the murder of Representative Riley Daniels.”

Without welcoming them the man responded, a tinge of irritation in his voice, “I’m Agent Scott Benson, State Bureau of Investigation. What interest does the FBI have in this case?”

“Well, that’s what we’re here to find out, actually. We hope to rule out any connection to some previous cases.” Jason kept the details to a minimum.

Agent Benson looked at them for a moment, without speaking. It seemed he was sizing them up, trying to determine whether to ask for more information.

Tired of waiting, Ethan interrupted the silence. “So where’s the body?”

As if clicking back into reality, Agent Benson responded, “Ah, yes, the body.” He turned and pointed behind him around the corner, “It’s just around the corner. It seems the killer was smart enough to hide him, but not smart enough to hide him well.”

Benson turned and walked in the direction he had indicated down West Martin Street, waving at Ethan and Jason to follow. They walked past the open windows of a coffee shop that bordered both streets, patrons staring out at them as they walked down the sidewalk.

Agent Benson began to brief them on the situation. Most of it Jason had mouthed off in the SUV. “His wife reported him missing last night at around eleven. The body was found this morning by a local man on his way to work at roughly four thirty AM. Said he likes to be up extra early before his shift and all. The first officer arrived at about four forty-five AM.”

Benson sighed, “Poor woman – losing your husband is bad enough, but your son going into coma the same night,” he paused and grimaced, “That’s just effed up.”

Jason could only imagine the heartache the woman was going through, but with a gentle nod he kept his demeanor professional and detached.

“Who was the local who found him?” Jason asked, getting them back on topic as Benson pushed them through the crowd of officers bustling around the scene. He wished he had brought an umbrella with him.

“Um…” Agent Benson’s brow curled, trying to recall the name from earlier in the morning. “Lenny Hightower. He works just around the corner at The Big Easy. We talked to him a little, his story seems sound.”

Ethan and Jason both nodded to Agent Benson, and he continued his overview of the murder scene.

“The coroner placed the time of death at between eight and ten PM last night based on body temperature and decomposition. The murder weapon was definitely a knife.” Benson grimaced at the last few words.

Up ahead the number of officers increased, and markers littered the ground denoting pieces of evidence. A small splatter of dried blood was visible by one of the markers.

“This is where we believe Daniels was first attacked. At the least, it's where it got violent,” Agent Benson pointed to the blood on the sidewalk outlining the spread outward in both directions.

Ethan nodded, observing the blood spray. “Okay, the report only mentioned the use of a knife but it did not yet state a presumed cause of death. Have you come to any idea on that yet?”

“See for yourself. I think it is pretty clear how he died,” Benson huffed.

A couple feet ahead the blood reappeared. This time it smeared down the sidewalk in two haphazard lines, indicating that the cuts were likely to the arms. The blood led a few more feet forward and then curved into a recess behind the coffee shop where a white steel gate hung open.

They edged forward, following the crimson trail. Agent Benson waved them forward, “Here he is.”

Ethan fought from stepping backward at the gruesome sight. Representative Daniels lay on his back, arched over a pair of stairs with his head hanging stiffly against his right shoulder. His mouth, caked in dried blood, sagged open awkwardly as if still screaming for help. A chalk white texture had taken over his skin, occasionally interrupted by patches of black and blue.

His stomach and chest was hematic, coated in dark patches and smears of red. What looked to have been a crisp white button-up shirt was now scarlet red with a few remnants of white peeking around the edges. It had been reduced to tattered rags. Multiple puncture wounds spread across his upper stomach with one long gash sliced across his chest. His shirt hung open, exposing fatty layers beneath the lacerated flesh. Dried blood painted the floor around the body.

Ethan moved closer, working to ignore the odor and squatted to get a better look. He examined the knife wounds, checking to see if there were any bullet wounds that might have been missed.

“How many stab wounds?” Jason asked.

“Counting the slash across his chest and the fingers missing on his left hand… We are looking at thirteen stab wounds and several lighter lacerations,” Agent Benson answered.

To confirm, Ethan leaned to his right to view the corpse’s left hand. Only two full fingers remained, a thumb and index finger and the nubs of the missing fingers coated in dry blood. The three severed fingers lay strewn across the concrete floor a couple feet to Ethan’s right.

“So we have thirteen stab wounds to the chest and three severed fingers.” As he made the verbal assessment, he checked the Representative’s arms for the defensive wounds he had postulated earlier from the blood smears on the sidewalk. Sure enough, they were there. “Defensive wounds from a knife on both arms, bruising to the face – from a short lived brawl, possibly.”

Ethan stood back up and turned around, pointing to the blood on the sidewalk beyond, “As you said earlier the blood smears lead directly into this doorway, meaning he was most likely initially attacked further up the street. Then drug down the sidewalk to finish the business.”

Jason turned to Agent Benson, “Did the killer take any valuables that you are aware of from Daniels? Wallet, watch, anything that would indicate this was simply a robbery gone sour?”

Agent Benson turned and hollered to an officer a couple yards away, “Officer Garcia,” then waved him over.

“Officer Garcia was in charge of collecting evidence, I believe he has Representative Daniel’s valuables,” Benson explained.

Officer Ernesto Garcia was a short, dark skinned man. His Hispanic heritage became ever clearer as he replied, “Yes sir?”

“What valuables were found on Representative Daniels’ body?” asked Benson.

“We found his wallet, with two debit cards and one hundred and fifty-two dollars in cash. And his watch is still on his wrist.  Nothing fancy, but even so,” Officer Garcia informed them. He glanced at Benson before adding, “I personally would rule out a robbery. Unless it was one stupid robber.”

“Maybe. We’ll need to be sure he was not likely carrying anything else first,” said Ethan. “What about prints? Have you been able to lift any prints yet?”

Agent Benson looked down at the ground then back up to Ethan and Jason, “No, not yet. I’ve had several agents, including myself, looking for prints on the body, the entry gate, etcetera. We haven’t been able to uncover any yet. Seems they were prepared for this.”

Well, that’s not a good sign
.

Jason was hoping this was just another robbery gone wrong, but all things considered thus far were leading in a different direction.

“What about video of the murder? Has anyone looked at the video feed from any of the surrounding CCTV cameras?” Jason asked. “Surely one of them picked up something.”

“Not yet,” Benson replied.

Irritated, Jason retorted, “Not yet? It’s been nearly two hours since you found the body and you haven’t asked for video surveillance yet? Nice.” He pointed to the camera fixed on the side of US Post Office building down the street, “In that case, let me help you out. Let’s get the footage from the surrounding cameras, primarily the one there on the Post Office. Then be sure they are sent to us promptly.”

Agent Benson, noting the irritation in Jason’s voice, nodded to assure him he would.

“Were there any witnesses?” Ethan asked, kicking himself mentally for not asking earlier.

“Uh... No, not that we are aware of yet.” Some of Benson’s confidence returned, “The 911 caller this morning was the first person we are aware of that saw anything, and that was only finding the body this morning. This recess is dark enough until about eight or nine in the morning that he could have easily been missed half the night.”