A case of the government vrs Harper Throne (working title)

“Shots Fired.” the radio crackled. “James Bay area, Fifty-Three, San Jose Ave.” 

The small office erupted in a flurry of practiced chaos as jackets were thrown on, keys grabbed, Nobody spoke as they all ran out into the parking lot, hunting for the car their keys lit up. 

Harper Throne pulled the bullet proof vest tighter, smoothing out the velcro. “Where are we going again?”she as she shut the passenger side door. The second the radio lit up her mind had gone into autopilot, checking off everything she needed. Her coworker Dave, another member of the Major crimes unit, switched the sirens on as they exited the detachment's back parking lot, the Dodge Charger rumbling. “Uhh, James Bay area? Check the GPS.” Dave flipped another switch on the ceiling, the lights flickered on, flashing red and blue across the hood. 

“Alright.”Throne didn't bother messing with the GPS. She pushed her earpiece further in her ear, making sure it was properly connected to her radio. Chances were she’d be doing some running tonight.  

 The vehicle slowed as they neared the downtown quarter. Rush hour was over, but the nightlife was coming out. Lights flashed in the rearview mirror. The rest of the members had caught up behind them.The setting sun eliminated the stately parliament buildings, as they passed.

“The neighbor called it right?” Throne scanned the upcoming traffic lights for obstructions.

“Yup” Dave whizzed through the intersection. "What's the eta?” 

“Uhh, you got five, depending on how fast you drive.” 

Dave flicked sirens and lights off. “Keep an eye on things for me. We’ll go in the dark.”   

A few minutes later, they pulled onto a quiet residential road, Dave glanced at the GPS before pulling to the side, letting the other cars pass. “Fifty three…Fifty three...” Throne scanned the house numbers as the streetlights blinked on. They’d parked by sixty four a few doors down.

“Come on.” Dave crossed the street. The other cars had parked down the street, members piling out, some already having drawn their guns. A final car, headlights off, slowly stopped, blocking the road behind them. A similar car did the same on the far end. 

“The suspect is likely to be armed. We’ll go in the front, if you're behind, stay undercover and keep an eye out if they try to run. Avoid crossfire.” Her boss, Corporal Sheffield's voice said over the radio.

Dave had already continued down to a car parked almost across from the house. Gun drawn, pointed at the ground. Throne did the same, half running, walking to reach him. Sheffield acknowledged them with a tilt of his head. ”You two are with me. You three follow behind.” The three general duty members let them pass with a nod.

Throne studied the quaint little house that seemed too innocent for this attention. The windows were dark, draped by curtains by the look of it. The glass was intact.

 The paint on the shingles was a cheery yellow color. An unsuspecting normal house. But anybody could get shot anywhere. 

The corporal side stepped up the front porch, staying clear of the front door with a large window in it. Dave crouched on the stairs and Throne hid across from him behind the solid deck railing. Sheffield listened at the door for a moment, reached for the handle and tested it slowly. Throne peered around the railing as he opened the door, letting it swing in on its own before peering around the corner, letting the muzzle of his gun take the lead.

 “Foyar clear. Victoria Police Department! Drop your weapon!” He shouted, announcing their presence as Dave rushed in the door behind him. Throne took the hall while Dave followed Sheffield to the living room. The lights were off, the home thoroughly dark. Whoever lived here went to bed early. Or, they weren't home. She flicked her flashlight on, holding it under the gun. 

“Clear.” Rang through the house as they swept through each room. It was normal, undisturbed, dishes piled in the rack by the kitchen, the smell of dinner still lingered, shoes by the door. Did they get the wrong house? Throne repeated the address back in her head. This was the right house, the number clearly displayed outside.

“Hey boss.” Dave's voice echoed down the stairs. Sheffield abandoned his search of the mudroom. “Clear the backyard,” he ordered as he left the kitchen.

Throne peered out the window as she made her way to the small mudroom, keeping her back to the walls and her gun to the windows and door. 

The backdoor opened with a swift kick. Unlocked. Strange. But good to note. What had Dave found upstairs? A body? Or would she find that here. A cement patio spanned half the backyard, deckchairs spread randomly around it. The rest was covered in grass, noticeably short and lush. She kept her back to the house, scanninging along the fenceline, before ducking around each corner of the house. “Backyards clear.” She spoke into the radio.  

“You’re gonna wanna come up stairs.” Dave's voice cracked in her ear.

“On my way.” She shone her flashlight over the flowerbeds bordering the fence, Weeds speckled the soil. The yard was maintained, but not often. Whoever lived here had done it recently, although, it may not get much notice for a very long time now. 

She turned her flashlight back towards the building, putting her gun in its holster, leaving the lock open. The foundation was lifted up enough there should be a crawlspace hatch. Noticing more members inside the house she opened the mudroom door. “Hey, check for some sort of access hatch for a crawlspace, either inside or out. Makes a good hiding place. I’m going upstairs.” The closest member nodded wordlessly as Throne passed. The staircase had been right by the entryway.  

Harper tip-toed up the stairs, trying to keep her heavy workboots off the carpet runner laid down the centre. She rubbed her nose, last time she’d slipped. The topstep opened up to a landing, with a handful of doors, all open.

 “Throne.” Shefflid spotted her as she took the last step. With how creaky the stairs had been he would have heard her coming.  

“Yea-oh.” Throne's eye landed on what Dave and Sheffield stood around. The body of a man. She stepped inside the door. “Backyard was clear, I asked the others to look for a crawlspace. But it's likely our suspect ran after shooting this poor man.”

“I’ll call forensics in.” Sheffield left.  

“Dead?” Throne tucked her hands into her vest

“Dead.” Dave sighed and stood. “Shot in the chest. Doesn't look there was much of a struggle..not sure how he didn't hear the guy coming up the stairs.”

“Deep sleeper?” The room was decently clean, clothes thrown over the chair in the corner blackest draw off the bed, either by the victim or the shooter. The shelves remained untouched, curtains drawn over the window. The only thing out of place in the entire house was the man laying on the floor.

“Maybe. Early sleeper. It's only what.” He glanced at his watch. “Eight thirty.”

“And we got the call around eight. Could be a nightshift worker. Or he was drugged.” Harper shrugged

“That is the slightly more interesting option.” 

“Yes…” Throne turned, scanning the floor around them. “Clean shot?’ 

“Going by the pool of blood, maybe. Why do you see a shell?”

“No. Which means the shooter only took one shot, which I find interesting.”  

Footsteps clamboured up the stairs. “I’ll let you deal with forensics.” Harper did give him a choice as she left the room, letting the two men in white plastic suits and masks pass her. 

“Throne?” one of the general duty members waved her from the bottom of the stairs.”We found the crawlspace, it's clear. Hatch was in the laundry room under a box, looking undisturbed.” 

“Good. Thanks.” 

“Uh, hey, Harper?” One of the newer and younger members of her unit, Bill, stood in the hallway to the kitchen. “We may have found our murder weapon.” 

“Where?” She stepped towards him.

“Out back, in the garden by the backfence. The suspect must have jumped it and dropped the gun.”

She flicked the kitchen light on as they passed through, then the patio light. No reason to keep the lights off. 

“Right here.” He gestured towards a skeletal plant, devoid of its leaves for autumn. She shone her flashlight on the dirt. Gunmetal flashed. “Huh, well what do you know? Strange for them to have dropped it.”

“Could have panicked, happens.”

“Lucky for us, maybe we’ll get some fingerprints. Hold this for me please.” She handed him the flashlight and pulled a pair of gloves on. “Alright, what do we have here?” She carefully picked the gun up, keeping the muzzle pointed down, and flicked the safety on. She slid the rack back, revealing a bullet, then let it close again, as she popped the magazine out. 

“Better not be another one of-” Bill started

“Hey don't jinx it. Just because it's a Wesson, doesn't mean it was one of our Wessons. 

“Looks like there's two bullets missing from the mag. Ones in the chamber, and one, is in the chest of our victim. They really only fired it once.” Harper ejected the bullet in the chamber with another quick pull of the rack. Tipping it into her palm. “You got a bag? My hands are getting full.” 

“No, I’ll get you one.” He dashed off, with the flashlight. 

“Oh yeah, not sure, just leave me here in the dark, on a crime scene. Not spooky at all.” She said to herself.  

Throne let her gaze rest on the pistol in her hand. The last person who held it, aimed it at another human and killed them. The violence of it all dimmed by the quiet neighborhood, the blanket of darkness that’d settled over the houses. If a tree falls and nobody's around to hear it, does it make a sound? This certainly did. No silencer. All in all it was looking more like a passion of the moment crime. One bullet. Clean kill. Clean house. No fight, no chase. Just death.

Throne wondered if it would be rude to use the coffee maker.

 The light flickered across the fence, Bill was making his way back. “I got bags.” 

She tipped the bullet and mag into the open one he held, then took the other and slid the gun into it. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” he handed the flashlight back to her and then jogged back to the house. 

Her boss’s voice crackled through the radio.” Throne? Where are you?” 

“Backyard. What's up?”

“I need you to come around front please.”

Harper zipped the bags shut and walked around the house to the front. The squad cars had turned their lights on, red and blue flashing across the street, silently warning the curious neighbors away. The yard had been stakes and taped off, officers milled about, some going back to their cars. Corporal stood, hands on his utility belt, on the sidewalk with a few other officers. She joined them. “You called?” 

“Yeah, we’re just waiting for forensics to finish up, corners on the way for the body. We just need someone to stay watch overnight. Make sure nobody tampers with it, or comes back. We can get a better look in the daylight, canvas the neighborhood." 

“I can.” throne said. “But I'd like a coffee” 

“I can bring you one.” Dave joined them.” forensics is done there.” He gestured at the house as the forensic team emerged. 

“Good, I’ll see you later.” Sheffield patted them both on the backs and followed the forensics to their car. 

“Why’d you volunteer?” Dave looked at her. 

"You don't usually like nightshift.”

She shrugged, not sure herself. “what a woman can't change her mind?”

“I’ll go get that coffee then.” Dave left her as the coroners van pulled up, the patrol car moving to let it through. She waved at them as they passed with their stretcher. Terrible job to have really. Bodies were a strange thing. Really made you believe people had a soul once you’d seen enough of them. 

She sighed and sat down on the sidewalk, the cold from the cement seeping through her pants. Her body shivered involuntarily as her spine tingled. She moved to the nearest tree planted in the sidewalk, covering her back. “Bet you saw a lot.” Harper looked up at the branches.”Too bad you can't talk. Cursed with information you’ll hold forever.”

She watched the corners leave the house, the red haired one she recognized, the other one, she didn't recognize. Maybe he was new.

“Coffee for the lady?” Dave stepped up on the sidewalk behind her.

“That was fast.” She stood and wrapped her hands around the cup

“Theres a Tim's not far away.” He held out the car keys. “Here, I’ll catch a ride back with Bill.” 

“Thanks.” She waved them off as she made her way back to the charger. No point in keeping it all the way down the road now. 

The next few hours revealed nothing but a quiet, content suburban neighborhood street. The little vintage Victorian houses added an air of mystery, like little ghosts holding onto memories of the past. 

…

As she drained the last drop of cold coffee from her cup, her phone vibrated, she squinted at the screen. Dave was calling.

“Hello?” She untucked her legs from her curled position in the seat.

“Harper? Hey.”

“Is everything okay? It's like.” She pulled the phone away from her face.”Midnight or something.”

“Yeah, well, we got the forensics back, I don't know if you saw the email yet.” Dave trailed off

“What no- what email.”

“They found Kate's prints on the gun.”



“Kate.” Throne repeated the name. Kate, was one of the girls that’d joined the unit the same tim as she had a few years ago. They’d bonded, being the only women on the unit. “You don't mean, our Kate.”

“Unfortunatly I do.” Dave didn't really sound like he was convinced either. “Sorry to have to tell you in the middle of the night, I just, y'know. Reading it in an email kinda sucks.”

“I’ll see you in the morning. Thanks.” She hung up. There was no way. They must have gotten the prints mixed up. They needed to run it again. Sure she’d had the day off today but-she went over the scene in her mind. Known standard issue gun, one shot to the chest, someone who knew what they were doing. But why leave the gun behind? They got spooked. 

This was the third one. The third in a string of cases involved police issued pistols in the last few months. But not a murder. And not on her unit.