The rattle of manilla paper as he sealed the envelope was one of the few sounds in the basement, suddenly. Muscles in his face twisting, Mike realized something else. The first Agent on such a scene, unless his own connections to the event could taint the investigation and prosecution of the case, became Special Agent in Charge, not of the whole division, just the case. But he could give orders to anybody in the office. Even those back in Washington, to a point.
This case, even those back in the capital would jump, Mike thought. He'd never had this much power, responsibility, or risk, as a screwup here could cost him his career.
The Chief was moving all but his lead investigator and two tech officers out of the house, to cordon off the block. Out of respect, Mike held his peace about the investigation, save for one small bit.
"Arvard...."
"Might as well keep it informal, son." The Angel nodded grimly. "I'll inform the Quorum myself, but I don't like you being alone without protection outside that Fort. Or in it. I know that place can be snuck into."
Mike shook his head, his boss looking at him just a somberly. "Let's keep those kind of secrets from me. For now, at least. Boss?"
"Your show, Holzon. I'm second fiddle now." Chambers nodded to the Angel. "I will ask for a Secret Service agent to work with you on keeping our boy alive. Unless you think..."
"Accepted. I'll even work with some Yank, if need be." Arvard's jaw slid to the left, giving him a strangely humorous look, despite his deep thoughts. "Better tell General Thornton to get a caisson ready. We may have hated the man for the war, but he gave generous terms, before disappearing "
"And many locally prominent folks will be on the suspect list, good point." Agent in Charge Chambers sucked in his breath. "Damn. Not my best morning. Mike, anything you need, you know, will be yours. Here, at least. Can't say about outside the Fort."
"Relax, boss. I know it will be touchy back at headquarters." Mike looked around, pulling out his pocket notebook. "Well. Better do the important stuff first." He took the names of the crime scene technicians, the detective and his surprisingly, for Deseret, female partner, added his own, the Chiefs, Chambers and left room for two more pages, based on the crowd he'd seen earlier.
"Okay, so Detective Smith..."
The woman interrupted him. "Emma, please. I've worked with your wife on a couple of cases of telesond fraud this summer." Her smile proved warm, and the eyes held a hint of the wicked sense of humor he'd heard about.
"Mike. I agree with Arvard, let's keep this informal. Easier to talk things out." He started in a few pages more. "If I can, I'll need the name of the responding constable, and first detective on scene's impression."
"I was first on scene, sir." That admission made Mike jump a bit, as one of the techs spoke up. "Kind of hard not to be... I live two houses up from the bakery."
Right hand on jaw reminded Mike he'd forgot to shave before heading out. Something he'd need to remedy somehow soon. "Great. That could be a problem. You have any family with links to this property?"
"Doubt it, sir. I'm an emigrant, myself. Came out here to take the job from Chicago University." The man smiled. "And, no, I'm not a Saint, Ain't, and definitely not a Gentile. Not with a name like Fienstein."
"That I believe. Okay. If you won't mind making me a copy of your notes, ummm, Uri?" Mike suffered horribly with names at times.
"Ari, actually." The guy grinned. "I'm just worried me and that Avenging Angel will get confused back east by folks." He tossed over a few sheets torn out of his own pocket pad. "I always have to toss over copies to the Detectives, so I use carbon paper on my first arrival notes, and scene sketches."
The guffaw from Arvard settled that. "I'll be sure to note my input as being from the Rocky Mountain Jew, if you specify yourself as the Windy City one. Anybody smart enough to make copies without being asked is alright in my book. Unless they're forgerers."
"Great. I'll get this duplicated as fast as I can for everyone." He looked it over, surprised it was the originals. "You'll need this set back."
"That Supreme Court case last year was off his notes." Chief Burbank rejoined them, rubbing a hand over his bald head to remove moisture. "And hope you all brought hats, the Lake just sneezed some snow over us."
They all groaned a bit, the bands of snow kicked up by the Great Salt Lake tended to be near blizzard visibility, even if brief, and often laced with lightning that sought out just about anything moving about in the snow.
"Great. And I have to get back across the battlefield yet." Chapman said.
"Let Candace know I'll do lunch down here for me?" Mike asked.
His boss nodded. "What do you need me to take up to the lab?"
Mike gestured to Feinstien. "Like I said, the lab is yours to use."
The Chicago man grinned. "Use or just have them run samples? I'd love to see that new spectrograph machine. Worked with the guy who was still thinking it up on the design at one point back at CeeYuu."
A single look at Chambers told Mike it was his call. "Phil, can you get him a visa?"
Again, just a nod. Chambers believed in letting his people run their shows, backed their plays and took the heat for letting them, rather than passing the buck.
"Fine. Gather the samples you need, especially some pipe fragments. Phil, get the results and some of that sample over to the NCA folks when you talk to Candace for me." Scratching his head, he looked again at the exposed section of the telesond conduit . "That lining is strange. Never seen that myself, maybe it will help narrow down our source."
"And the body?" Arvard stood a bit back, now, eyes looking for other clues missed.
"Good point. I need a Graves Registration team, if we have one at the Fort." Mike ran a hand through his matted brown hair. "Guess we need to find out when Custer was last seen, too."
Reaching into the toolkit of Feinstien, Mike grabbed a dust mask and gloves. "Get me some more envelopes." Looking at the detective, he nodded. "Take it from the top for me. Everything we know so far, no speculcation." Trying his best to stay in the footprints Arvard's invasion of the scene left, Mike entered the closet.
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