The Fremantle Handyman, Chapter 1

The crime scene was gruesome, even for a seasoned commissioner like Nadine Walters. With fourteen years on the force, Nadine knew as soon as she walked in that a dead body lay somewhere in the house. Another hiding place of the notorious Handyman Killer, it seemed recently abandoned. Dust had begun to sweep over the counters when her force burst into the place on a tip.

Her lieutenant, Robert Corning, set a firm hand on her shoulder and jerked his head at the officers. “Clear every room, and be careful.”

Their grim faces stared back at the two and Nadine felt hot in her heavy police vest. She booked it out of the house and looked for some shade or a bench. God, why did Fremantle have no benches? Rob followed her with a concerned demeanor.

“Commissioner Walters, are you alright?” His raspy voice sounded like her missing husband’s. She shooed him away and watched as he peeked over his shoulder on his walk back to the house. Her stomach rolled again at the very thought of her precious Isaac, and she bent over. Nadine’s throat burned from the acidity of plain vomit—she had forgotten to eat breakfast, like usual. Bad eating habits always came back with a bite. With a grimace, she stood and made her way back inside to check out the rest of the house.

“Basement clear!” Officer Iram called up the stairs. Nadine heard two officers' footsteps from the bedrooms, but nothing from upstairs.

“Corning, I’m heading into the attic,” she said. Rob gestured for her to go on as he searched a large vent in the corner. “Ten minutes tops. Yell if you need me.”

Nadine crept up the stairs, careful not to alert anything above her of her intentions. She grasped the pulley of the attic door in the ceiling and heaved it upwards. A gust of stale air blew into her face and she choked. With a firm shake of her head and watery eyes, she pulled herself over the lip of the opening and into the small space.

"Police. If anyone’s in here, come out now." She reached for her torch in the dark and flicked it on. A few cobwebs in the far corner, a couple of metal chairs on a rack, a dead body, some rugs... Her brow furrowed and Nadine swung her light back over to the body. "Corning, I'm gonna need someone up here, now!" She smoothed out her panicked expression and steadied herself on the beams. Creeping closer, she winced in sympathy at the sight.

A pair of boots stormed up the fold-able ladder behind her. "Commissioner Walters, what is..." Officer Iram's voice trailed off when he noticed the scene in front of him. Nadine looked back at him.

"Iram. Got a torch on you?" Her voice shook. Without a word, he presented his torch and shone it at the cadaver in only feet away. It looked male, with dark hair and closed eyes. The body had a lean build and wore a pair of boxers, a wife-beater, and a knife in its throat. Both Nadine and Iram winced at the puddle of blood surrounding it, a few feet in diameter and dark red. It looked fresh, a drop slowly trickling down from the wound. The body had only one hand and looked otherwise intact.

Nadine took in a sharp breath and looked away. “God,” she said in a quiet tone, only for herself to hear. She glanced up at Iram, who nodded in agreement, then stood and brushed off her pants. "C'mon. Let's get back to the others; they'll want to know about this."

They made their way downstairs and found the lieutenant pacing in his awkward manner. He looked nervous, for some reason or another. Nadine had never been good at comforting people, so she took a step back and watched as the others reassured him.

Nadine brought her mind back to the present as Rob turned to her and asked, "Commissioner, what did you find up there?" She winced.

"Folding chairs. A body. Some cobwebs. You know, the usual."

His face looked sallow in the low lighting, and his Adam's apple bobbed. James Kingston hesitated before speaking right as the minute hand on Nadine’s watch ticked from 11:59 to 12:00. “A human body?” His voice cracked on the word, and her almost-imperceptible nod made the room inhale.

“Fresh knife wound, approximate time of death 9:20 a.m. on April 6th, 2019.” Iram’s analysis of the situation interrupted her imminent reply.

“Today?” Rob asked, swearing under his breath.

Nadine flipped her hand in confirmation. “Yep. Call forensics.” He left, pulling out his phone, and she pointed at a group of officers standing off to the side. “Secure the perimeter. CSI is a few minutes out. Everyone else, clear out.” She gestured at Iram and his team to follow her out.

The squads piled into their respective vans and screeched away. Nadine headed to her own car, a rusty brown thing. The engine groaned but started up anyway and she pulled out of the driveway. The drive back to headquarters took twenty-two minutes from Holland Street—she timed it—but she wanted to be there before Corning. With a groan, she flicked on the radio and set it to scroll mode.

Welcome back to Radio Fremantle, your local news since 1987! Up next, the newest hit by…

Nadine tuned out the annoying voice of Fred Wilcomb and flicked on her turn signal. She merged onto South Terrace; only a few more minutes from here. Her gaze fell to the clock and she rolled her eyes.

Corning would be back by now. She’d have to talk to Imogene after hours or go to work early. This wasn’t a luxury Nadine could afford, what with the meager wages she got each week. Barely above minimum wage, if she could admit it to herself.

Nadine pulled into the WAPOL parking lot and drove toward her designated parking lot. With a sigh, she turned off the car and flung the door open. It looked like Imogene left early today. She slammed the car door, locked it, and dug through her purse while walking to the side entrance.

"Corning, I need a report for the crime scene ASAP. Is Zeke back yet? I needed him to meet with the coroner, like, yesterday. Let's go, people!" Her loud clap echoed in the high-ceilinged room, startling a newbie in the corner. She’d set up a meeting with him last week but she’d missed it. Sue her.

Rob and Zeke were tired of her crap, obviously, but still listened to her commands. The sandy-haired lieutenant shooed away some intern trying to speak to him and flipped open his laptop, probably to email someone in the filing department. Ezekiel Quinn, a quick-witted man in charge of reporting dead bodies to the coroner, picked up a nearby phone and started dialing. Nadine gave a nod of approval before snapping her fingers and pointing at the newbie.

"Yo, newbie! Get over here." She beckoned for him to follow her into her office. What was his name? Maybe...Jack? "What's your name? Nevermind, don't answer that. I need to get you a laptop and outfit you. Did someone do that already?"

Jack seemed startled again. "My name's Erik." Dang. "Uh...nobody did that. I think."

Nadine raised an eyebrow. "You think, or you know?" She opened a cart full of laptops in the corner of the office and pulled out number 26. "Here. Don't lose it, break it, etcetera. Take care of it. Anyway, I'll need some of your measurements. Extra-large, I'm guessing?"

Erik nodded. "Exactly. How did you do that?" His gaze flickered to the laptop and he took it from her, carrying it securely in his arms as he followed her around the room.

She pursed her lips and grabbed a uniform shirt from the XL pile. "It’s a gift. Here.” She laughed and he chuckled nervously. He seemed scared of her, for some weird reason. Most people weren't scared until after she interrogated them. It was the short stature and soft, motherly features she sported. "Okay, Erik. What's your last name?"

"Liimatta. L-I-I-M-A-T-T-A."

Nadine passed him a registration form for their database, then opened a desk drawer. Blue ink for fingerprints and black ink for thumbs, to tell the difference. Erik set down the laptop and pressed his index finger into the black ink. She winced. "Sorry, I forgot to tell you. It's blue for fingers and black for thumbs. There's a sink in there." She pointed to a small closet just off the computer cart and began to fill out the spaces on the form that were intended for her. With a flourish, Nadine signed her name on a dotted line at the bottom to verify that Erik Liimatta existed and had her permission to join the WAPOL under Lieutenant Corning.

The sink shut off and Erik emerged from the closet. "I'm finished. What do I do after the prints?" He dipped his index finger into the blue ink this time and pressed it to the given area, then the rest of his prints. Nadine picked up a ballpoint pen and passed it over to him.

"Just fill in your name, address, phone number. Basically, any blank space. Then sign here, here, and here, and I'll set you up with a desk and get you into reports. You can log the newest one, from the Handyman Killer case." She watched as he filled out the form.

"Sounds creepy."

She nodded. "It's pretty creepy when you walk into a house with a pile of rotting hands right by the front door.” Nadine watched him shudder.

"Forget I said anything." He followed her out the door, still holding the paper and his laptop, to a desk right beside Ezekiel's. The plain oak was topped with a pencil holder, a mouse pad, and a rolled-up laptop charger. A corkboard separated his desk from the one opposite.

Nadine pushed the chair in and gestured for Erik to set down his stuff. "Right there’s the filing cabinet, and you can put any important notes right here." She pointed to a small whiteboard that sat out of sight in the drawer. "You can pin things up on the corkboard or just get a few folders and stick 'em somewhere." She leaned over to the filing cabinet and pulled out a file that read 'The Handyman Killer'.

"Is that what I'll be working on?"

She handed it to him. "Yup. The WiFi is called corning's corner, and the password is 'nwalters' with no caps. I hope you do well, Officer Liimatta." She turned to ask Corning a question but Erik interrupted her.

"Call me Erik."

"No can do, Liimatta. Now, get to work." She gave him a curt nod that contradicted her lukewarm tone, then turned to the lieutenant. She’d forgotten her question but remembered something else she needed just before it became awkward. "Corning, I need that report in fifteen minutes. I'll be in my office when you're done." Nadine pointed at him, then strode to her office and collapsed into her chair.

"God, what I would give for some tea right now..."

As if God himself answered her prayers, an intern popped her head into the office. "Commissioner Walters, would you like your usual? Riley’s about to go to the cafe down the street and didn't want you to feel left out." The intern, Gracie, tucked a piece of gorgeous, strawberry-blonde hair behind a pert ear and smiled, dimples deepening.

Nadine's cheeks felt warmer. "Sure, Gracie. Thanks for asking."

Long after Gracie had left, Nadine still considered the short encounter. What was so attractive about her? Sure, she had dark brown eyes that made Nadine feel like she was drowning, and high cheekbones that made her drool. It didn't mean anything though. It was just a woman recognizing another woman—girl, really—as beautiful. Nothing more.

She shook herself out of her thoughts. She was still on the search for her husband. Not for some girl that she definitely wasn't attracted to at all. Nadine slammed her head onto her arms and groaned in agony, then reached for her laptop.