It didn’t make any sense. A gun stuck in an engine. What the hell could that mean? Forensics went over that vehicle with a fine-tooth comb. They even ran a video lead up the exhaust pipe. It’s unimaginable they would have overlooked the engine compartment. These kids are having another laugh at my expense by dreaming up another Scottish wild haggis hunt.
DI Perrini’s brain was running a complete disk search looking for a reason to ignore Sean’s remark. The search ended with zero results. Ben terminated it by locking the office and strolling out to his car. With the boys hard on his heels the trio set out on another mission. If successful it would add a whole different slant on who they were looking for. Sean and Randy were nervous, charged and resolute. Perrini was nervous and charged but still skeptical and definitely not resolute
“Get in, you two. We’ll go take a look at what you found.”
With one foot on the accelerator and one hand on the emergency brake, he sped away from the courthouse and headed for the Sports Complex parking lot.
The drive took all of about ten minutes. Plenty of time for Perrini to remember, Fool me once, it’s on you. Fool we twice and I’ve got no one to blame. Once burned, forever shy, Ben wasn’t about to get snookered again. However, by the time they got to the Humvee his imagination had taken charge and was driving the action. Slipping under the tape, the boys were anxious to prove their find and Ben had his hopes up for a positive outcome. All three were operating at a feverish pitch to find what they came for.
“Remember, this is still a crime scene.”
“As if we could forget it.”, muttered Randy.
Sean added, “Yeah. This is personal. Your opinion of Indians is hanging out again, Detective.”
Out loud this time Randy pitched in.
“And when we found this thing, we ran all the way to the courthouse to find you.”
“You guys stand clear. I’ll pop the hood.”
With Sean and Randy in front of the Humvee, Perrini found the hood release under the dash.
“Can you still see it?”
“Yep. It looks just like what I saw in computer class this morning.”
Perrini set the brake, jumped out and joined Sean’s head under the hood.
“Did the computer name the parts?”
“No, but I know what a radiator looks like. You can see all the belts. Do you know what any of this is?”
“That belt runs the fan and the alternator.”
Randy, pointing at it,
“There’s the thing.”
“There between the alternator and the intake manifold?”
Still needing to be in control, Perrini reminded them.
“Don’t touch it. It does look like a gun.”
Sean, no longer hesitating, “Suspicions confirmed.”
Adding this discovery to his disappointment and frustration over the Italian snow job, Ben Perrini was both startled and breathless. When he saw the SR22 lodged between the alternator and the intake manifold, he couldn’t help sucking air. Quickly pulling on the blue gloves before reaching for it he removed and bagged the piece.
“If this hasn’t been wiped clean. We’ll get the prints into the system and find who shot Michael O’Brien.”
“Hey, that’s your name, Sean.”
“So, what, Randy? There’s more than one dog named spot and probably quite few O’Briens.”
On the way back to the office, Ben dropped the boys off at the Hospital ER right on time to catch their ride home. Not wanting any more surprises, he launched a gag order.
“Remember, you two. Don’t tell anybody about this. Not even your Mom.”