windar
Teller of Tales
1.
In twenty-seven years on the NYPD, Stan Goldman had seen bodies shot, stabbed, battered, strangled, crushed, drowned, thrown off of buildings and otherwise killed in any of a dozen other ways, but this was his first crucifixion. In fact, as far as he knew, it was a first for the entire NYPD.
When the call came in to the Major Crimes Unit around 2 AM, he had to ask the patrolman to repeat it three times to be sure he had heard right. “A crucifixion?” he asked, “Like Jesus?”
“Yeah, except it’s a woman. And she’s naked,” the disembodied voice replied.
“You been drinking, Gonzalez?” he asked.
“No, sir, Detective Goldman,” the patrolman replied. “How soon can you be here to see for yourself?”
“We’ll be there in ten,” Stan replied, hanging up the phone and turning to his partner, Richard Leary, who was looking at him oddly. “Guess you heard, Dick, a crucifixion. You ever hear of anything like that?”
“Only in church,” Dick replied, getting out of his chair a bit reluctantly. “But I guess you wouldn’t know about that, right Stan?”
“I’ll ask my rabbi,” Stan replied, “But I have a feeling I’m going to learn a lot more about crucifixion than I ever wanted to know.”
The crime scene was, as Stan had assured the patrolman, less than ten minutes from the station house, in an abandoned warehouse on the Bronx side of the Harlem River, near Yankee Stadium. Despite the late hour, the heat of the day had barely diminished as Stan made his way towards the decaying brick structure across a lot littered with garbage and rubble.
Inside was a large, high-ceilinged open space, which had obviously been abandoned for many years. Most of the windows had been broken and the floor was dotted with puddles left over from the brief storm that evening, which had done little to cool the air.
Stan could see Gonzalez’s flashlight illuminating the center of the space as he and Dick made their way towards him, treading carefully over the uneven dirt floor. “See for yourself, guys,” Gonzalez said, lifting his department-issued flashlight to reveal a solid wooden pole, about nine feet high, planted in the ground, with a crossbar towards the top, just like the crosses you could buy in any religious bookstore.
But the cross wasn’t the main thing that struck Stan. No, that would be the naked woman attached to it by the large nails driven through each of her widespread wrists into the wood of the crossbar and the one driven through both of her feet into the upright. “Jesus!” Dick muttered.
“No, I don’t think so,” Stan replied, “Though I can see why you would say that.” For though it was clearly a woman, well-proportioned, likely early 20s and probably nice looking at least before her ordeal, the pose was exactly that of Jesus on any crucifix that you could see in any Catholic church in the city.
Stan took out his cell phone. “I better call the medical examiner’s office. This will make their day.”
“Shit, it’ll make their year,” Dick replied.
It wasn’t long before a team arrived at the site, bringing floodlights that illuminated the scene, which looked even stranger in the full light. After the woman and the cross had been photographed from every possible angle, they had a crew from the Transportation Department shovel out the base of the cross so they could lower it carefully to the ground and the technicians could remove the nails and examine the body.
Stan gave them space to work. Soon, the team leader, a middle aged Korean woman he knew fairly well from other crime scenes approached the detectives. “She’s been dead probably twelve hours or so, but how long she’s been up there is hard to say right now. From the blood around the nails and on her hands and feet, it’s clear they nailed her alive. There are serious wounds on her back. She was whipped and not lightly before they put her up there. Anything more will have to wait for a detailed examination in the lab. Given the unusual nature of this, I suspect this will move to the head of the line. I called Dr. Yang at home and he’s coming down to the lab right away,”
“Thanks, Jen,” Stan told her. “And I know this won’t be easy, but let’s try and keep a lid on this. I’d like not to have to face the media until we know something. I have a feeling this won’t just be a local story, but will go national and all over the world before tomorrow is over.”
“This is just what I fuckin’ needed when I am leaving on vacation tomorrow,” Dick said.
“Don’t worry, bro, you go and enjoy. You need it and I can handle things here by myself,” Stan reassured him, though how exactly he was going to do that wasn’t at all clear to him right now. What was clear is that this was likely to be the biggest case in his entire career and the pressure from the brass to solve it would be enormous. And all he had wanted to do before tonight was quietly make it to the thirty year mark and retire with a full pension. That didn’t look very likely right now with this case of a lifetime dropped in his lap.
Stan guessed the first thing to do was to talk to Gonzalez. He motioned the patrolman over. “So how did you come upon this historical curiosity?” Stan asked him.
“I was driving by and thought I heard sounds coming from here. I don’t think I would have heard anything except that the AC in my patrol car is useless, so I had the windows open. I thought maybe it was copper thieves looking to see if there was anything left to strip. Not much chance there is any left, given how long this pile of rubble has been vacant. And when I came in, that was what greeted me.” He waved in the direction of the corpse which now lay on a stretcher, shrouded in white, being carried to a waiting ambulance to take it to the morgue.
“So what made the sound?” Dick asked. “It wasn’t her.”
Gonzalez shook his head. “Turned out it was coming from down by the river, some kids playing music. They took off when they saw the lights of the cop car,” Gonzalez replied.
“So you didn’t see or hear anyone in here?” Stan asked him.
“Nope. The only one here was her and she didn’t make a sound.”
“OK, Gonzalez, you can take off. I want to see a copy of your report as soon as you have it written.” Stan handed him a card with his email on it.
“No problem, Detective. You got any thoughts on this?” He looked as bewildered as Stan felt.
“Must be a sign from God that retirement can’t come soon enough, Gonzalez. That’s about all I can come up with at the moment. And I have a feeling that I may need all the help I can get to solve this case.”
In twenty-seven years on the NYPD, Stan Goldman had seen bodies shot, stabbed, battered, strangled, crushed, drowned, thrown off of buildings and otherwise killed in any of a dozen other ways, but this was his first crucifixion. In fact, as far as he knew, it was a first for the entire NYPD.
When the call came in to the Major Crimes Unit around 2 AM, he had to ask the patrolman to repeat it three times to be sure he had heard right. “A crucifixion?” he asked, “Like Jesus?”
“Yeah, except it’s a woman. And she’s naked,” the disembodied voice replied.
“You been drinking, Gonzalez?” he asked.
“No, sir, Detective Goldman,” the patrolman replied. “How soon can you be here to see for yourself?”
“We’ll be there in ten,” Stan replied, hanging up the phone and turning to his partner, Richard Leary, who was looking at him oddly. “Guess you heard, Dick, a crucifixion. You ever hear of anything like that?”
“Only in church,” Dick replied, getting out of his chair a bit reluctantly. “But I guess you wouldn’t know about that, right Stan?”
“I’ll ask my rabbi,” Stan replied, “But I have a feeling I’m going to learn a lot more about crucifixion than I ever wanted to know.”
The crime scene was, as Stan had assured the patrolman, less than ten minutes from the station house, in an abandoned warehouse on the Bronx side of the Harlem River, near Yankee Stadium. Despite the late hour, the heat of the day had barely diminished as Stan made his way towards the decaying brick structure across a lot littered with garbage and rubble.
Inside was a large, high-ceilinged open space, which had obviously been abandoned for many years. Most of the windows had been broken and the floor was dotted with puddles left over from the brief storm that evening, which had done little to cool the air.
Stan could see Gonzalez’s flashlight illuminating the center of the space as he and Dick made their way towards him, treading carefully over the uneven dirt floor. “See for yourself, guys,” Gonzalez said, lifting his department-issued flashlight to reveal a solid wooden pole, about nine feet high, planted in the ground, with a crossbar towards the top, just like the crosses you could buy in any religious bookstore.
But the cross wasn’t the main thing that struck Stan. No, that would be the naked woman attached to it by the large nails driven through each of her widespread wrists into the wood of the crossbar and the one driven through both of her feet into the upright. “Jesus!” Dick muttered.
“No, I don’t think so,” Stan replied, “Though I can see why you would say that.” For though it was clearly a woman, well-proportioned, likely early 20s and probably nice looking at least before her ordeal, the pose was exactly that of Jesus on any crucifix that you could see in any Catholic church in the city.
Stan took out his cell phone. “I better call the medical examiner’s office. This will make their day.”
“Shit, it’ll make their year,” Dick replied.
It wasn’t long before a team arrived at the site, bringing floodlights that illuminated the scene, which looked even stranger in the full light. After the woman and the cross had been photographed from every possible angle, they had a crew from the Transportation Department shovel out the base of the cross so they could lower it carefully to the ground and the technicians could remove the nails and examine the body.
Stan gave them space to work. Soon, the team leader, a middle aged Korean woman he knew fairly well from other crime scenes approached the detectives. “She’s been dead probably twelve hours or so, but how long she’s been up there is hard to say right now. From the blood around the nails and on her hands and feet, it’s clear they nailed her alive. There are serious wounds on her back. She was whipped and not lightly before they put her up there. Anything more will have to wait for a detailed examination in the lab. Given the unusual nature of this, I suspect this will move to the head of the line. I called Dr. Yang at home and he’s coming down to the lab right away,”
“Thanks, Jen,” Stan told her. “And I know this won’t be easy, but let’s try and keep a lid on this. I’d like not to have to face the media until we know something. I have a feeling this won’t just be a local story, but will go national and all over the world before tomorrow is over.”
“This is just what I fuckin’ needed when I am leaving on vacation tomorrow,” Dick said.
“Don’t worry, bro, you go and enjoy. You need it and I can handle things here by myself,” Stan reassured him, though how exactly he was going to do that wasn’t at all clear to him right now. What was clear is that this was likely to be the biggest case in his entire career and the pressure from the brass to solve it would be enormous. And all he had wanted to do before tonight was quietly make it to the thirty year mark and retire with a full pension. That didn’t look very likely right now with this case of a lifetime dropped in his lap.
Stan guessed the first thing to do was to talk to Gonzalez. He motioned the patrolman over. “So how did you come upon this historical curiosity?” Stan asked him.
“I was driving by and thought I heard sounds coming from here. I don’t think I would have heard anything except that the AC in my patrol car is useless, so I had the windows open. I thought maybe it was copper thieves looking to see if there was anything left to strip. Not much chance there is any left, given how long this pile of rubble has been vacant. And when I came in, that was what greeted me.” He waved in the direction of the corpse which now lay on a stretcher, shrouded in white, being carried to a waiting ambulance to take it to the morgue.
“So what made the sound?” Dick asked. “It wasn’t her.”
Gonzalez shook his head. “Turned out it was coming from down by the river, some kids playing music. They took off when they saw the lights of the cop car,” Gonzalez replied.
“So you didn’t see or hear anyone in here?” Stan asked him.
“Nope. The only one here was her and she didn’t make a sound.”
“OK, Gonzalez, you can take off. I want to see a copy of your report as soon as you have it written.” Stan handed him a card with his email on it.
“No problem, Detective. You got any thoughts on this?” He looked as bewildered as Stan felt.
“Must be a sign from God that retirement can’t come soon enough, Gonzalez. That’s about all I can come up with at the moment. And I have a feeling that I may need all the help I can get to solve this case.”
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