“Have a great day at work!” Michele proclaimed as I walked out of the front door and felt the brisk air as it blew onto my skin. I remember the sound of birds chirping as I made my way to my car. I started my car and begin listening to Queen as I began my commute. I pull up to my spot in the parking garage and walk to my office. Many people stopped and said,”Hello!” on my journey. As I sat down at my desk, the telephone began to ring.
“Hello?” I questioned.
“Hello. This is officer Devin Combs. Am I speaking to detective Michael Dryden?”
“Yes, you are. Has something happened?”
“There has been a murder in an alley near Columbus and Roosevelt. We need you here as soon as possible.”
“I’m on my way.”
I arrived at the scene and searched for the officer in charge to find out any information about this crime. I finally succeeded and approached him.
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“What can you tell me about this murder scene?” I asked.
“We don’t know much, but I’ll tell you what we do know so far. The victim is 22 year-old Brandon McNeely, a student at the nearby university. It looks like he was walking home from the local bar and used the alley as a shortcut. That’s when he was shot by an unknown person. His body was discovered at 6:30 this morning and we believe that he died around 3:00. The forensics report says that he was shot with a 9 millimeter hollow point bullet with 115 grain powder. The bullet passed through his sternum and into his heart. He died
instantly.” “That’s it?” I questioned as I finished writing on my notepad, “Nothing about the suspect?” “There is two things. We found a dark hair on the ground. The lab is already trying to figure out whose it is. Also, the empty shell was discovered “Alright. Thanks for your help,” I said as I started for my car. I needed to find out more about the victim and who would want to kill him. I drove back to my office and searched for information on his family. After I located all of his direct family, I set out to find his parents’ house. Once I arrived, I walked out of my car and met Mr. McNeely at the door. “Excuse me sir. I’m Detective Michael Dryden with the Metropolis Police Department. Is it alright if I ask you a few questions?” I asked. “Sure. Come on in,” Mr. McNeely said, motioning for me to enter his house. “First of all, I am very sorry for your loss.” “Thank you for your sympathy. What can I do for you?” “I am here to find out more information about your son, and possibly find out who would want to do this to him.” “Okay. I will help you as much as I can if you promise me one thing.” “What is it?” “Take the guy down.” “You have my word that I will.” “Okay. The only person that I know would want to kill Brandon is one of the kids that is enrolled at the same college as him.” “Why would you make this accusation?” “Because no matter what he did, Brandon was better at it, and it really got on his nerves. Brandon would always come home and talk about how this kid name Nick was always jealous of him, and was always doing something to him. Sometimes he put glue in the key holes of Brandon’s car. Other times he broke into his dorm and trashed it.” “Wow. It really seems like this Nick didn’t like your son. I’ll will look further into this guy. Is there anyone else that I should know about?” “No, there isn’t. Thank you for trying to find the person who killed my son.” “No problem. Thanks for your cooperation.” I said as Mr. McNeely showed me out of his house. I went back to my office to find out more about this Nick that Mr. McNeely told me about. I looked up that he lived in dorm 403 if the West Campus. I drove over there and approached his dorm and Nick’s roommate answered the door. “Who are you?” he questioned, sounding irritated. “Metropolis Police Department,” I responded. “You got a warrant? “No.” “Then I don’t have to let you in,” the roommate proclaimed, trying to shut the door. “Wait,” I said, trying to keep the door open,”This is not about you. It’s about your roommate Nick.” “What did he do this time?” he asked, opening the door. “He is the main suspect in a recent murder case. We believe that he shot another student at this school. Does the name Brandon McNeely ring a bell?” “Yeah. Nick was always so jealous of him because he was so good at everything.” “Have you ever heard Nick talk about killing him?” “No way man. He was mad, but he never say anything about killing him. That seems extreme.” “Is Nick an extreme kind of person?” “He’s the most extreme person I’ve ever met.” “Alright. Thanks for your cooperation. I know it’s not easy to say these things about your friend.” “Trust me. He’s not my friend if he killed that guy. If you need to find him, try the bar down the street.” he said as I walked out the door. When I entered my car, my phone started ringing. It was my assistant saying that the forensics report came in, and the hair that we found was tested, and it does belong to Nick. Also, the empty casing had his fingerprint on it. It was definitely Nick that killed Brandon, and now I have the evidence to prove it. I got a search warrant approved and entered his dorm. A Springfield Armory XD 9 millimeter pistol was found under his mattress. Upon discovering the gun, I started for the bar that Nick’s roommate suggested. I located and approached him. “Nicholas Doherty?” I questioned. “Yes,” he responded. “You are under arrest for the first-degree murder of Brandon McNeely. You have the right to remain silent. If you do say anything, what you say can be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to consult with a lawyer and have that lawyer present during any questioning. If you cannot afford a lawyer, one will be appointed for you if you so desire.”
Because the murder of Richard Malloy seemed to everyone to be a random criminal act, it came as a surprise to many when another male body, also shot several times was found in a wooded area of Citrus County, Fl not far from where Malloy’s body had been found barely six months prior. The victim was identified as 43 year old David Spears of Sarasota, Fl. His truck was soon discovered on Interstate 75, unlocked with the license plate missing. Around the same time, 30 miles south of Citrus county another naked body was discovered a short distance off of the Pasco county side of Interstate 75. The victims’ entire body was so decomposed that the medical examiners could not obtain any usable prints to use for identification. They did, however, find that the victim, later identified as Charles Carskaddon, had been shot nine times with a 22. During the next six months more male victims, with a total of eight, were killed and disposed of in similar ways, each somewhere around the Interstate 75 corridor.
“My name is Sadie Frowne. I work in Allen Street (Manhattan) in what they call a sweatshop. I am new at the work and the foreman scolds me a great deal. I get up at half-past five o’clock every morning and make myself a cup of coffee on the oil stove. I eat a bit of bread and perhaps some fruit and then go to work. Often I get there soon after six o’clock so as to be in good time, though the factory does not open till seven.
When the first responder got to the scene he adimatately meet the 911 caller, who lead him to a car in an apartment parking lot. The car doors were closed and all of the windows were fogged. The police officer used his flashlight to see inside of the car before opening the door. He found a young African American woman who had been shot several times. The officers quickly called for backup, investigators and medical personnel. While awaiting for their arrival he secured the crime scene with caution tape, creating an initial perimeter setup as discussed in lecture two. Once everyone arrived he left it to them to search the car while he talked to the 911 caller, witnesses and others who had information on who had been present in the car. The investigators were able to collect physical evidence of bullets and cartage casings that were found outside the vehicle and inside the vehicle on the floorboard of the driver’s side. The team determined the bullets came from a 40 caliber. Other types of physical evidence that were found on the scene were the bloody clothing on the victim, the victim’s cell phone and fibers in the car from the driver’s side. personnel at the scene crime took several photographs, powered test for finger prints and did a blood spatter analysis. Stewart’s autopsy revealed that she had been shot at close range in the left hand once and in the
After contacting and interviewing all three suspects, we discovered the suspects killed the victim during a argument over a gun that had been used in an earlier robbery. Ballistics from a gun discovered in a inspection found one of the suspect suspects matched the weapon used in the shooting. The suspects were arrested and charged with second-degree murder. The case was closed and this concludes my summary of my
My beliefs are important to me. I wake up every morning with a cup of coffee in my hand and turn on the daily news. I see many problems occurring around the world, but most of us are too blind to actually do something to help. We are too blinded by our society's cultural that we can’t separate ourselves from the good and bad.
On 7/16/16 at approximately 1909 hours, my partner, Officer Acosta #0044, and I, Officer Harrell #3441 were working normal patrol assigned to unit 2A26. We were in full police uniform and operating a marked black and white police vehicle. We were dispatched to a radio call of a critical missing from 1605 Glen Ave.
Sometimes when I feel sad, Kenzo is the only one who puts smile on my face. I think that dog is a human best friend. By having an animal, we actually are learning how to care about someone. I think that everyone should have a pet, especially families who have children. Moreover, looking at Mr. Brown’s video made my think about my own childhood and the games I used to play and it also made me think about how games have changed through the years. I knew that playing is important for the kids, but I never thought that it can actually improve our survival skills, and the ways we live our lives.
“Ah! Somebody call the police this guy just stole my purse!” a random woman screamed. As I remembered, my cousin works for the police at Pembroke Pines, so I called her and told her to come very fast; there was burglary going on. She got the there in less than a second. Everything happened very quickly; she got the burglar and gave the woman her purse back.
On the 27th of October, the police found two more bodies. The bodies belonged to Shane and Katherine Brown, neighbors of the Dixons’. The murder was called in by a strange man who told the police he did it.
They flew him to the hospital in a helicopter but he passed away before they could make it there. The white van was never to be seen again and the local police station could never arrest anyone for the crime. Who would have ever thought that a white van could drive away with my heart.
“Then I’ll call and make the arrangements for the body to be taken to the morgue.” Said Fiona. “Thanks I’ve been pretty backed up on cases lately.” The coroner says exasperated. “No problem” Fiona says ending the conversation.
I walked down the city streets each day on my way to work. They were long and treacherous in the winter. The extra tight black leggings rubbed against my lifeless legs. I could feel the weight of my bag digging into my right shoulder. My worries wore on as I walked the 6 blocks to the restaurant. How did my hair look? Was I going to spill the drinks on anyone today? Would anyone be upset with me? My head spun with questions as I walked down mysterious alleys and sidewalks in my black pumps. I should really get some nice walking shoes. I worked the night shift. The streets were dark and cold, which made me eager to get to work. As soon as I got there, I took off my wool-lined trench coat; knitted scarf and ear muffs; then got right to work.
I remember being packaged. In a plastic bag, packed with all the other paintballs just like me, I was shoved in a cardboard box and shipped off to a remote location, where I waited. And waited. For months...until one day, my box was thrown violently onto a table, ripped open, and my plastic bag pulled out. After adjusting to the sudden rush of light, I realized I was being lifted into the air by something large and magical (which strongly resembled my hand, just much larger...). I completely lost it. I began rolling from side to side, trying to escape my captor, but to no avail; there was no way I could pass through the bag, and that seemed to be the only way I could escape. After several more long moments, my bag was brought into another room, and tossed onto another table.
In the middle of my reconnaissance mission I was in the Himalayas searching for a lost Soviet nuke I was drawn to an ostensively creepy cave, as if my conscience was telling to go there. I was lost from my team, couldn’t be deported, and had all resources at my dispense. With all of that under consideration I entered the grim cesspool of a cave. As I entered what appeared to be hundreds of cave dwelling creatures came running out as if something was chasing them. Ominously a light appeared and habitually I pulled out my gun and slowly advanced. It was a small insignificant light, almost as if it was from a flashlight that you would get from a dollar store. I moved forward. Or at least tried to. It was like a invisible wall was keeping me from going any further into
Every morning on the journey to my office in the City, which exactly 1 hour and 23 minutes from the station opposite my apartment, I study the person sitting on the uncomfortable chair directly opposite me. In the sheep skin journal that I carry around everywhere, I write a story about them, predicting what their life is like. Yesterday it was a teenage a girl, she had had long wavy silver hair with a perfectly shaped face and hazel eyes, I wrote that she had just graduated High school and it was her first day at University studying to be a lawyer, she had a perfect life one that I would have liked to have. I think that one was pretty accurate seeming as the got off at White Street Station, the closest station to Graham University. The day before that was an old man, he was holding a bunch of pure white flowers his face was emotionless and he had stared out the window above by head for the entire trip. I wrote that his wife for 40 years had passed away and he was going to...