Hey, Readerland! The Ogre is back for Day 29. The end is in sight. Three more days and we're all done.
So, I have one more section to rewrite and then I'm ready to submit. I could be sending my steampunk story in tonight, honestly. I'm not sure, though. The butterflies are warring with the chili I just ate.
Anyway, tonight's exercise is that I'm going to go to the Flickr Random Image Generator and picking three pictures and linking them together in the story. Let's get to the choosing. My images are:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/lonestardogranch/6597893977/
and
http://www.flickr.com/photos/joannfarris/6597831629/
and
http://www.flickr.com/photos/caddguy/6597838947/
Let's get started.
"Yes, he's dead." Officer Stanley said. "What do you think, Detective?"
"I think you need to get those two kids out of here, Frank." Detective Bronski said, pointing at the two children who had found the body. "Get them home and get statements from them and their parents."
"Yes, sir. Okay, kids. Let's get you home." Stanley said, leading the children away. The little girl, probably seven or eight, took the officer's hand with one of hers and dragged her sled away with the other.
"But how did you get here?" Bronski asked to no one.
The body was a white male, approximately twenty to twenty five years old. Brown hair and eyes. And wearing nothing but swimming trunks while lying in five or six inches of snow. Both legs and his left arm were sticking out at funny angles, probably broken. Blood around the mouth and some in the snow, probably from the impact. There were no footprints around the body, except for a few from the children.
The kids had been coming home after an afternoon of sledding at a hill about half a mile away. They hadn't come through this direction the first time. The girl said she had poked the body once on the side to see if the man moved and when he didn't, her brother called 911.
Bronski wasn't up on this kind of thing, but he knew of a couple of places where people went polar bearing this time of year and the kid was dressed for it. He'd have Stanley look into that.
"Hey, Detective." One of the Crime Scene guys said. "You finished?"
"Yeah," Bronski said. "Have the doc let me know when he has something."
"Will do."
The two investigators started examining the body as Bronski walked off toward the children's house.
---
The next day, after having read over the children' statements, Bronski went down to talk to Doc Hoff, the medical examiner.
"Whatcha got?" Bronski asked.
"Well, you victim wasn't a polar bear. Stanley told me you had him checking that out." Hoff consulted his notes. "He didn't have any of the usual signs of that kind of thing. What he did have was two broken legs complete with shattered knee and hip joints. His right arm is broken in four places, including a shattered elbow and dislocation of the shoulder."
"What about the left arm?" Bronski asked.
"His left arm is sawdust." Hoff said. "There are more places broken on his left arm than there is still intact bone."
"Jesus." Bronski said. "Any ideas?"
"Transverse fractures of the tibia, fibula and femer show that the legs hit the ground flat. Severe comminuted fractures of the radius, ulna and humerus, as well as broken bones in the wrist and hand indicate that he used that hand to try to stop himself, like you do when you lose your balance." Hoff looked down at the floor.
"Wait. He fell? And he was alive?" Brosnki looked like he was going to be sick. He took a second to gather his thoughts. "How high did he fall from?"
"Best guess, based on fractures and points of impact is about three hundred to three hundred fifty feet." Hoff said.
"Thanks, Doc." Bronski said. He walked out and headed back to the crime scene. There was more to find.
Back at the scene, Bronski stood in the field and looked up at the towering trees. He was no arborist, but none of the trees were three hundred feet tall and even at the top of the tallest, the branches wouldn't support the victim's weight.
"Where did you fall from, kid?"
"Detective?" A young voice said.
Bronski turned and saw the two children who found the body, along with a couple of others. "Hey, kids. Going sledding again?"
"No, we're here to watch the plane." The brother said.
Bronski asked. "What plane?"
"There's a red and white plane that flies by here almost every day." One of the friends said. "It goes from one of the big houses by the lake out to the quarry in the next county and back."
"Why do they go to the quarry?" Bronski asked. The kids all shrugged. "Okay, thanks, guys. You've been a big help."
Bronski drove out toward the lake, which was the "rich" neighborhood. All of the houses were starter mansions and there were some influential people that lived there. This could get ugly fast.
Finding the plane was the easy part. There were only two sea planes on the lake and only one was red and white. It belonged to Scott Abernathy, who made his money during the dot com boom and was smart enough to get out before the crash. He had invested well since then. His wife had died a few years ago from cancer and that left Scott and his son Shawn living in the big house themselves. Bronski walked up and knocked on the door. The door opened. There was a young man, early twenties, in the doorway.
"Yeah?"
"Shawn Abernathy?" Bronski asked, showing the young man his badge.
"Yeah. Can I help you, Officer?" He didn't seem defensive or anything. Bronski was skeptical.
"Yes. Did you happen to take your plane out yesterday?" Bronski asked. "Out to the quarry and back?"
"This about Billy, isn't it? I don't know where he is." Abernathy said.
"Billy?"
"Yeah. Billy Donaldson? His family lives a few houses that way. He wanted to go out to the quarry, but when we loaded into the plane, we couldn't find him." Abernathy looked worried.
"We?"
"There were four of us. We all live in the area. Billy wanted in." Abernathy opened the door and let Bronski in. "The four of us got into the plane. Billy was still outside, but when we went to shut the door, he was gone. We figured he chickened out."
"Was he wearing a pair of dark blue swim trunks?"
"Yeah."
"Two kids found him yesterday afternoon. He's dead, Shawn." Bronski braced for the emotions that were sure to come from the young man. "My best guess is that he was hanging onto the plane when you took off and he fell not too long after. I'm sorry for the loss of your friend. If you'll excuse me, I have to go inform his family."
There were days when Bronski hated his job.
Well, that was better than the last few. I liked it.
Anyway, that's going to do it for today. Tomorrow, I'm back to random words. Until tomorrow, take care and be awesome to each other.
#WWWYKI
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