A Matter of Time

This is a much different sort of story than I usually undertake. It is what I call a "quick and dirty" little write. I didn't spend a lot of time on editing or proofing. I posted it to get some feedback on the story idea. I know it has lots of errors. Just read it and enjoy it or not.

Constance Zymanski had her eyes tightly closed. She was concentrating on getting one more orgasm out of the man who was panting and wheezing as he put in an aerobic workout between her legs. It wasn't, of course, her husband. That would have been laughable, she thought to herself. To imagine that milksop of a man putting in this much physical effort into anything, much less satisfying her.

Her eyes flew open as the room seemed to explode in sound. Her ears immediately started ringing. She couldn't see much because the man above her suddenly collapsed forward onto her pinning her underneath him and impeding her view of anything in the room but the headboard of the bed and a small portion of the wall above it. She struggled to get herself free when she felt the warm liquid running over her face.

She lifted her hand and wiped at her face. When she looked at her hand it was covered in what looked like red sticky goo that was sprinkled with small white flecks and some gelatinous masses. She turned her head to look into the face of her lover. The eyes were lifeless and unfocused. Just above his right eye a gaping hole was pouring blood and she could see brain matter hanging from the hole. The last thing she remembered for a while was her own screams.

&&&&&

Hours later, Sargent Jaime Velaquez stood in the door of the bedroom in the upscale house. It was as gory a scene as he had ever encountered in his 16 years on the police force and the last 5 in homicide. He surveyed the scene. The body was now gone, on its way to the morgue. The autopsy was required but there was no doubt that the half inch hole in the back of the man's head and the nearly 4 inch hole in the front was the cause of death. Most of the man's brains stuck to the wall and ceiling on the far side of the bed.

The woman with whom the dead victim had been having sex at the moment someone emptied most of the brain cavity onto the wall was in the emergency room. She didn't appear to be injured, but she had been hysterical when the patrol officers had arrived. A neighbor reported the gunshot and then screaming.

He now knew several things. He knew the victim was one Parker Adamson. Locally known as Park. He owned a landscape and pool maintenance company. He was 33 years old and married with no kids. The woman's name was Constance Zymanski. She lived in the house with her husband, Allen Zymanski. Allen was a tenured professor at the university. Constance, called Connie, by her family and friends was 49 years old. Allen was 54 years old. Once Connie was done at the hospital she would be taken to the homicide offices to be interviewed.

The Forensics team had been on the scene only a couple of hours. Velasquez decided to go back to his office and wait to interview Mrs. Zelenski. Another team had gone to the university to inform Mr. Zymanski of the occurrence, the whereabouts of his wife and were bringing him to homicide to be interviewed as well. Velasquez was well aware of the statistics. More than likely the person behind this was the husband.

Thinking ahead, Velasquez also knew that he couldn't make any pre-determination about the case based on such scant evidence. He had to let the evidence and the facts lead him to the killer, not try to make the facts fit the conclusion he wanted. He had to hear all of the stories and consider the facts as they presented themselves.

At the homicide offices, Velasquez met with the other team of officers to learn what they had observed at the university. They explained that Zymanski was working in his office in the Universities Physics lab. They had been admitted to his office by the receptionist and had informed him of the incident at his home. He had appeared totally shocked and unprepared for the news. His first question was about his wife's condition and was concerned that he needed to get to her. They had explained the situation and assured him she was physically ok, in good hands, and they would be reunited at the police station. He had agreed to come to the station to be interviewed and later to be with his wife.

Velazquez asked if the two detectives had questioned the receptionist. She was cooperative and stated that Dr. Zymanski had arrived at about 9 that morning and had been in his office all morning. There was no other way in or out of the office except past her desk. They had checked out her assertion and found it true. Zymanski had been in his office all morning. There was no way he could have been at the house.

Velasquez sat down at his desk. He mentally checked off one suspect from his list. Zymanski appeared to have an airtight alibi. He hoped he could get a lead from the woman or from the dead guy. He already had teams working on those two options. Suddenly, all hell seemed to break loose in the office. Phones started ringing and the voice levels in the office went up several notches. Velaquez looked around. This much activity was unprecedented. He turned back to his desk and went to work on the computer, gathering as much data as he could on the three people of interest in his case.

His concentration was broken about an hour later when the Lt called for everyone's attention. Hw turned in his chair to learn that 5 murders had occurred that morning, all at just about the same time. Velasquez's case was one of them. They were going to be stretched very thin for personnel over the next few weeks. The Lt. returned to her office and Velasquez turned back to his.

He finally headed to the interview room. Constance Zymanski was in one of the rooms and her husband in another. Velasquez decided to start with Dr. Zymanski. He entered the room and was immediately besieged with demands. Velasquez looked at Zymanski. THe man looked like the caricatures of the absent minded professor. His suit didn't quite fit right. He was about 5'8" tall and probably weighed only 175 lbs, most of it fat around his waist. If you had ever wanted to epitomize someone who didn't fit the role of a murderer this was the man.

Zymanski was irate. He wanted to see his wife. He wanted to know why it had taken over an hour for someone to talk to him. Velasquez let him rant and when the good Dr. stopped to take a breath Velazquez started.

"Dr. I understand you are upset. The family of the man who was shot is also upset. We try to do everyone justice and before I talk to anyone I need some background information. If you will bear with me for a few minutes, answer a few questions, I will see that you and your wife are taken home, or wherever you want to go."

Velazquez watched as Zymanski listened and then quieted down, pushing himself back into the chair.

"Very well. Before we start, can you tell me what happened at my house? I don't even know why I am here, what has happened to my wife."

Velasquez nodded.

"At about 10: 15 this morning dispatch received a call about a gunshot and a woman screaming from the house immediately next door to yours. A patrol unit was dispatched to check it out and found your wife in bed still screaming hysterically. The officers also found a man, one Parker Adamson laying on top of your wife, dead from a gunshot wound to the back of the head."

Parker watched Zymanski carefully as he related the facts. The man looked stunned at first, then he saw the anger start to rise but was surprised when the Dr. managed to check it and seemed to relax just a bit.

"I assume the conclusion is that my wife was having sex with this man when he was shot?"

"That is our assumption right now. We have officers talking to your wife trying to piece together the actual events."

Zymanski nodded.

"If my wife was having an affair, then the normal suspicion would land on me as the poor husband that goes ballistic and kills the wife's lover. If that happens and the husband catches the two in the act, isn't it statistically proven that the wronged husband usually shoots the wife as well?"

"Yes. That's what the statistics say."

"I also assume that you checked with my secretary and she can tell you that I was in my office or lab all morning without leaving. I didn't even have a second cup of coffee. Which, by the way, I would love to have now if it is possible."

Velasquez had never had an interview go like this. He was taken off guard.

"Ug, Of course. Let me get you one."

Velasquez left the interview room in a bit of a daze. His partner, Det Terri Tote, came out of the viewing room. Every interview room had a viewing room where all of the proceedings in the interview were recorded visually and audio. Terri looked at him incredulously.

"That guy is cool as a cucumber."

"Yeah. He turned that on me like he had been in an interview room a hundred times before. I need to collect my thoughts before I go back in."

"Ok. Just watch yourself. There is something strange about that dude."

Velasquez nodded, filled two styrofoam cups with coffee and headed back to the interview room.

Down the hall, Detective Bruce Williams was interviewing Mrs. Zymanski. He had been at it for a while and had several pages of notes. His problem was that everytime he approached the subject of the dead man who had been sprawled on top of her, she went hysterical and it took several minutes to calm her down. Williams couldn't find a way to approach the subject without getting stonewalled by her emotional outbursts. He finally called a halt to the interview and left the room.

Det. Charles Felty came out of the viewing room at the same time.

"Bruce? Is that woman stonewalling or is she really that upset."

Williams looked at his partner, Chuck Felty, and shrugged.

"Probably a little bit of both. You got to admit having your lovers brains blown out in the middle of a good fuck is certainly traumatizing. On the other hand, she hasn't asked to see her husband a single time since I have been with her. She asked about the guy she was with a couple of times before someone told her he was DOA at the hospital. She hasn't said shit about him since then."

"Strange. This is a weird morning. There are four other murders working right now. In all four cases, a male victim had his brains blown out by a single bullet to the face, in broad daylight, and witnesses. This all happened at almost exactly the same time as our murder."

Williams got a coffee and absentmindedly sipped it. He looked around the office. It had gone strangely quiet. It was unusual for everyone to be gone at the same time. But with five murders under investigation, this was going to be an all hands on deck situation.

&&&&&

It was the middle of the afternoon before Allen and Connie were allowed to see one another. Velasquez brought them together in an interview room with another detective in the room and several more in the viewing room to watch the reactions and listen. As soon as Velazquez had brought Constance into the room, she had begun the entire histrionics thing again. It took the female officer in the room several minutes to calm her down. Velasquez was more interested in Dr. Zymanski that anything else.

Velazquez noted that Dr. Zymanski maintained a very cool and collected reaction. He hadn't made any move toward his wife to console her. He stood quietly, his hand gripping the back of the chair in front of him, almost like a shield. Zymanski's knuckles were white and Velasquez could see the muscles in the man's arms and neck. He was obviously working hard to maintain control.

After things had quieted down, Neither Dr. nor Mrs. Zymanski had spoken. Velasquez decided to break the tension if he could.

"We will probably want to talk to each of you again. RIght now we are going to arrange for an officer to take you home."

Zymanski spoke quietly and deliberately.

"You can take her home. If necessary I will get a cab to take me back to the university."

Velasquez was a bit surprised.

"Are you sure? Your wife had undergone a very traumatizing event. Don't you think you should go home with her?"

For the first time, Vleasquez heard and saw emotion in Dr. Zymanski's voice.

"I won't be going home, again. She chose to cheat on me, in our marriage bed, in our home. I will be making living arrangements. She can deal with her problems on her own. Can I go now?"

The woman wailed again and collapsed onto the floor beside the chair where she sat. THe police woman knelt to try and solace her. Dr. Zymanski picked up his suit jacket and was standing by the door. Velazquez waved at one of the other officers who left with the Dr. He spoke to the female officer that was kneeling by Constance Zymanski.

"Make the arrangements. Get her home, but find someone to stay with her."

The officer nodded and Velasquez left the interview room. Outside his partner, Terri, and Detectives Williams and Felty joined him.

"This is a fucking strange case. Every vibe I get says this guy did the deed. But he has an ironclad alibi. We need to get busy fast and find out everything we can. I'm going back out to that house and check the scene out again. It's going to take a while for them to find someone to stay with Mrs. Zymanski and I want to get that done before we hand that house back to them. The rest of you see what you can find out from the neighbors and her friends and relatives. I also want the same sort of background work done on the victim, Parker Adamson. Let's go."

&&&&&

Velasquez walked around the outside of the house carefully. It was a two story large house on an oversized lot in an upscale neighborhood where he knew a lot of the university people lived. Velasquez was looking at the ground floor windows and the ground below them. He found nothing amiss. Going into the house, he saw that it was immaculately furnished. Nothing seemed to be out of place. Upstairs he checked the other bedrooms. Nothing there either. It was only when he went into the master bedroom did things take on a sinister turn.

The sheets and covering were wadded up in a ball next to the bed. He assumed the EMS people had done that. He knew that the two patrol officers had rolled the body onto the floor immediately in order to assess the woman's injuries. There had been none. Forensics had been thorough. The pieces of bone and brain matter on the wall were scraped away and bagged. There remained a lot of blood both on the wall, the headboard of the bed and the mattress. Forensics had found no cartridge casing which left the impression that the shooter had used a revolver.

He stopped and looked around. He hoped that someone had some surveillance cameras that would give them some more evidence. He had seen none on the house where he stood. As of now, they were working a case without a suspect or any idea of who might have perpetrated this crime.

&&&&&

Several days later, Velasquez was reviewing the coroner's report. It was simple and straightforward. A .357 magnum bullet had entered the victim's skull from the left rear side just behind the ear and excited at the right temple. The trajectory suggested that the shooter was standing to the side of the bed and forest from that position.

The forensics report told much the same story. The bullet was a Telos, a brand designed to produce large fragments that do the most damage possible. There was not enough left of the bullet to do a comparison. WIth no shell casing they couldn't match the bullet to a gun. WHoever had pulled the trigger seemed to know exactly what they were doing.

Video from several surrounding houses gave a good overview of the Zymanski house. They had good quality video of Adamson arriving at the Zymanski house and going in the front door. For the next hour no one came or went from the house. The next vehicle to arrive was the police cruiser and the two officers who were first on the scene. No one came or left the house.

They had also learned that Parker Adamson was a regular at the Zymanski house. His company, Adamson Maintenance and Landscaping, had a contract to perform the yard maintenance on the home and to keep the pool operating in season. He had several contracts in the area and appeared to be well known and popular.

Parker's wife had no information. She assumed he was on his regular schedule. She appeared to know nothing of his affair with Constance Zymanski. She was, by all accounts, devastated. Her alibi was solid. She was at a daycare event for her two children and was seen by several people well before the incident and well after. WIth Dr. Zymanski alibied and the victims wife also with a solid alibi, Valesquez and his team seemed to be at a brick wall.

Velasquez sat back in his chair and leaned back. He closed his eyes and let his brain shift into neutral. It was a trick he had learned from an old, now retired colleague. He would just let his brain bounce around aimlessly. He was often able to put seemingly disparate pieces of a case together in a rational manner with this technique. He was still in that position when someone kicked his chair. He came up in a ready stance and heard laughter. The Lt, Velma Harrison stood next to his desk.

Velam was a 28 year veteran of the force. She stood almost six foot tall and Jaime estimated that she would go 250 lbs if she was an ounce. She was fashionably dressed and looking down at Jaime Velasquez with a slight smile.

"You daydreaming or dayscheming."

"A little of both. Got something?"

"Yeah. I want you and other Sgts in my office in 5 minutes."

Jaime stood, stretched and reached for his coffee up. THe coffee pot was on his way to the LT's office and he filled his cup. By the time he got there, there were no more available chairs so he stood in the corner.

"We have five murders. I want to hear from each of you what you know."

SHe went around the room. Velasquez heard reports that, while distinctly different, had a lot of similarities. None of the teams had identified a logical suspect. Most didn't have very much at all. The victims were all male, in the age range of 30 to 50 years. They ranged from Adamson who was a small business owner to a VP at one of the larger banks in town. They seemed to have no connection to one another at all. Jaime gave his report and happened to mention that there was no shell casing at the scene, but the weapon was a .357 Mag and that the shooter had used Tellos ammunition. That had brought a flurry of conversation.

It appeared that everyone of the other four victims had been shot in the same manner. They were shot from the back at relatively close range with a .357 bullet and Tellos ammunition. The coincidence was too remarkable to overlook. It appeared that they were dealing with the same shooter which gave them something else to focus on, until the Lt. had broken the reverie.

"How you gonna explain that the same guy was in 5 different locations at the same time, with the same gun, to shoot 5 seemingly unrelated people. That is just too much to swallow."

The mood in the room turned somber again.

"Does anyone have any reasonable connection between these five guys?"

No one offered any thing to that question.

Jaime Velazquez's brain suddenly fired and he spoke without thinking.

"Why did the shooters pick a public place to execute these four victims but chose to shot my victim in the bed while he was fucking the woman?"

There were murmurs of agreement. Lt. Harrison looked at Velasquez.

"You checked this Dr. Zymansky's alibi?"

"It's airtight. He was in his office or lab from a little after 8 AM until we picked him up. His secretary swears that he never left the office or the attached lab until he left with us. There is only one way in or out of that space and you have to go by that receptionist."