Triangles, Chapter Seven
Title: Triangles
Continuity: Chapter Seven
Author: Sarah-Beth (memorysdaughter)
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Rating: PG
Summary: A senator's husband is murdered at a school for the disabled, and Booth and Brennan must look at the world in new ways in order to solve the case.
Chapters 1-6
Triangles
The drive to the Muth School seemed to take less time than usual as Booth flew down the road, siren blaring.
“What’s the rush?” Brennan wanted to know. “It’s not like the hand is going anywhere.”
“No, but our potential witnesses, suspects, and evidence are,” Booth answered tensely.
They were met at the door by the principal, Arthur Levine. He was a tall, statuesque man with gray hair and a neat mustache. “Right this way, Agent Booth, Dr. Brennan,” he said. “Thank you for getting here so quickly.”
The hallway was already crowded with a handful of police officers, a group of teachers and aides, and a woman Brennan recognized as the mother from the playground.
“Step aside, folks,” Arthur said, and allowed Booth and Brennan to cross under the crime scene tape.
One of the officers pointed to the open janitorial supplies closet. The light was on, illuminating the small area. An arc of what appeared to be powdered cleanser was spread across the floor. It went back across the closet, leading to a large bucket on its side.
A petite woman wearing a hunter green coverall was standing next to the closet door, wringing her hands, which were covered in yellow rubber gloves. “I just opened the pail of cleanser,” she said, “and there it was.”
Carefully, Brennan stepped closer to the bucket. It was indeed powdered cleanser, a generic brand called “All-Clean with Bleach.” She looked up towards the woman in the coverall. “Is this where you found the bucket?”
“Yes,” the woman hiccupped. “Well, sort of. When I saw… it… I dropped the bucket, and it just rolled.”
Brennan had put on a pair of gloves and now reached in for the bucket, pulling it upright. Inside, nestled amongst the tiny little pearls of powdered cleanser, was a hand. “Left hand,” she reported to Booth.
“Is it our victim’s?”
“I’ll have to perform some tests at the lab to be sure, but I think it is,” Brennan answered. “Plastic bag, please.”
Booth rummaged in Brennan’s kit for an evidence bag, which he passed into the closet. To the woman, he said, “I’ll need to take your name and ask you a few questions. Why don’t we step into the conference room?”
He led her across the hall to an empty conference room. She took a seat at the table, spreading her hands out on the Formica top. “Okay, let’s start with the basics,” Booth said. “Name and address, please.”
“Jodi Kimball. Fifty-two-sixty Grandview Street. Arbortown.”
“How long have you worked here at the school?”
“Four months. I used to work at the Maryland School for the Deaf, but my husband was transferred and I got the job down here.”
“Were you close with Mark Kirkpatrick?”
She flushed. “I don’t know what you mean, close.”
“But you knew him?”
“He was my boss. I worked with him and with Roger Brodsky.”
“And what was the work like?”
Jodi gave him a small smile. “It’s janitorial work. But Mark was a great boss. He wrote out a weekly schedule and was always available to help us. We all worked as a team for special events, like doing the gym floor every week, and Mark always made the work seem easy and simple. He brought in cookies he baked. He was a really nice guy.”
“Do you know anyone who had a problem with Mark?” Booth asked.
Jodi shook her head. “Everyone here liked him; mostly everybody adored him. He was a sweet guy.”
“I have just one more question for you, and then we’re finished. Do you know a student named Ruby Kalefsky?”
A strange look flitted across Jodi’s face. Booth wasn’t quite sure how to describe it; it was a cross between fear, stress, and confusion. At last she said, “Yes. I think everyone here knows Ruby.”
Brennan stuck her head into the conference room. “I’m finished with the scene,” she said.
“Great,” Booth said. To Jodi he said, “Thanks. I might have some more questions for you.”
She smiled a little helplessly. “I’ll be here.”
Booth nodded and stood up. Jodi escaped into the hallway before him. Puzzled, he turned to look at Brennan.
Brennan was standing just outside the conference room door, holding the evidence bag. “Let’s get this back to the lab,” she said. Looking up at Booth, she said, “What is it?”
He took her by the elbow and began leading her away from the group of teachers still gathered around the janitor’s closet. “Jodi Kimball had a very strange reaction when I asked her about Ruby Kalefsky.”
“What was it?”
“I’m not really sure, but she’s obviously hiding something about Ruby.”
“Well, you have the school incident reports back at the lab, right?” Brennan said. “You can look over those while I analyze the hand.”
“Yeah, I’ll get right on it,” Booth said, “after I interview Ben Allman.”
“Mr. Allman, thank you for coming in on such short notice.”
The Senator’s aide nodded, seeming a little jumpy. “Anything to help the Senator.”
Booth swung around and sat down at the table. “Yeah, tell me about that. How did you get the job with Senator Kirkpatrick?”
“Um, my father worked with Senator Kirkpatrick’s brother, Lewis, on a project for the city council. That was when Jan was running for mayor, which she won. After that she asked if my father would be her head aide for the Senatorial race, and he agreed. Then he had a heart attack right before the campaign was supposed to start, so I took over for him.”
“How close are you with the Senator and her family?”
“Well, fairly close, I guess. There’s a whole bunch of us on the campaign - me, and Emily Kauffman, and Edie Grass, and Khalil - and we always ate over at the senator’s house on Tuesday nights. And because Jan’s brother is close to my dad, Lewis and his family are always over at my parents’ house.”
“Did you know Mark Kirkpatrick?”
“Of course I did. He was a great guy.”
“So you got along well with him?”
“Yeah. Mark was a nice guy. I never heard him get angry with anybody.”
“So you never had any trouble with him?”
“No.”
“Does the Senator have enemies?”
Ben looked a little confused by the question. “Well, sure. She’s been in government for more than ten years, and I guess everybody rubs somebody the wrong way.”
Booth nodded, jotting this down on his notepad. “Can you think of anyone who might have wanted to hurt the Senator’s family?”
“Look, I have a list of people we’ve been receiving negative mail from. It’s back at the office. I can get you a copy of that.”
“I’ll also need to know about any mail sent to the Senator’s residence, and any sent to her family members or other campaign workers.”
“Sure thing.” Ben turned his wrist to look at his watch. “Agent Booth, are we finished here? I told Senator Kirkpatrick I’d be back at two-thirty.”
“We’re almost finished,” Booth answered. “Just a few more questions. Did you recently purchase a waffle iron from Chef Supply on Water Street?”
“Um, yeah. The old one I bought when I was in college just shorted out. I’m not much of a cook, but I thought it was time to have a really nice one, top of the line.”
“And are you related, by any chance, to a Keith Allman who lives on Market Road in Arbortown?”
“Yes, yes, I am,” Ben said, looking worried. “That’s my brother.”
“Does he shop at the same Chef Supply?”
“Of course he does,” Ben said. “He’s a chef. Well, not actually a chef. I mean, he cooks and stuff, but mostly he goes around to rich people’s houses and does a sort of cooking show for them, usually at dinner parties. He’s really into it. His wife hates it. He was the one who told me about the Chef Supply.”
Booth nodded. “Do you have a number I can contact him at?”
“Sure,” Ben said, and leaned forward to write a phone number on Booth’s notepad. “And he has an office in the Amesbury Complex; he’s usually there on Monday and Wednesday afternoons.”
“Thanks,” Booth said. “You’ve been very helpful.”
Ben smiled, still looking a little jumpy. “I’ll get the mail over to you as soon as I can.”
“That’d be great.”
Continuity: Chapter Seven
Author: Sarah-Beth (memorysdaughter)
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Rating: PG
Summary: A senator's husband is murdered at a school for the disabled, and Booth and Brennan must look at the world in new ways in order to solve the case.
Chapters 1-6
Triangles
The drive to the Muth School seemed to take less time than usual as Booth flew down the road, siren blaring.
“What’s the rush?” Brennan wanted to know. “It’s not like the hand is going anywhere.”
“No, but our potential witnesses, suspects, and evidence are,” Booth answered tensely.
They were met at the door by the principal, Arthur Levine. He was a tall, statuesque man with gray hair and a neat mustache. “Right this way, Agent Booth, Dr. Brennan,” he said. “Thank you for getting here so quickly.”
The hallway was already crowded with a handful of police officers, a group of teachers and aides, and a woman Brennan recognized as the mother from the playground.
“Step aside, folks,” Arthur said, and allowed Booth and Brennan to cross under the crime scene tape.
One of the officers pointed to the open janitorial supplies closet. The light was on, illuminating the small area. An arc of what appeared to be powdered cleanser was spread across the floor. It went back across the closet, leading to a large bucket on its side.
A petite woman wearing a hunter green coverall was standing next to the closet door, wringing her hands, which were covered in yellow rubber gloves. “I just opened the pail of cleanser,” she said, “and there it was.”
Carefully, Brennan stepped closer to the bucket. It was indeed powdered cleanser, a generic brand called “All-Clean with Bleach.” She looked up towards the woman in the coverall. “Is this where you found the bucket?”
“Yes,” the woman hiccupped. “Well, sort of. When I saw… it… I dropped the bucket, and it just rolled.”
Brennan had put on a pair of gloves and now reached in for the bucket, pulling it upright. Inside, nestled amongst the tiny little pearls of powdered cleanser, was a hand. “Left hand,” she reported to Booth.
“Is it our victim’s?”
“I’ll have to perform some tests at the lab to be sure, but I think it is,” Brennan answered. “Plastic bag, please.”
Booth rummaged in Brennan’s kit for an evidence bag, which he passed into the closet. To the woman, he said, “I’ll need to take your name and ask you a few questions. Why don’t we step into the conference room?”
He led her across the hall to an empty conference room. She took a seat at the table, spreading her hands out on the Formica top. “Okay, let’s start with the basics,” Booth said. “Name and address, please.”
“Jodi Kimball. Fifty-two-sixty Grandview Street. Arbortown.”
“How long have you worked here at the school?”
“Four months. I used to work at the Maryland School for the Deaf, but my husband was transferred and I got the job down here.”
“Were you close with Mark Kirkpatrick?”
She flushed. “I don’t know what you mean, close.”
“But you knew him?”
“He was my boss. I worked with him and with Roger Brodsky.”
“And what was the work like?”
Jodi gave him a small smile. “It’s janitorial work. But Mark was a great boss. He wrote out a weekly schedule and was always available to help us. We all worked as a team for special events, like doing the gym floor every week, and Mark always made the work seem easy and simple. He brought in cookies he baked. He was a really nice guy.”
“Do you know anyone who had a problem with Mark?” Booth asked.
Jodi shook her head. “Everyone here liked him; mostly everybody adored him. He was a sweet guy.”
“I have just one more question for you, and then we’re finished. Do you know a student named Ruby Kalefsky?”
A strange look flitted across Jodi’s face. Booth wasn’t quite sure how to describe it; it was a cross between fear, stress, and confusion. At last she said, “Yes. I think everyone here knows Ruby.”
Brennan stuck her head into the conference room. “I’m finished with the scene,” she said.
“Great,” Booth said. To Jodi he said, “Thanks. I might have some more questions for you.”
She smiled a little helplessly. “I’ll be here.”
Booth nodded and stood up. Jodi escaped into the hallway before him. Puzzled, he turned to look at Brennan.
Brennan was standing just outside the conference room door, holding the evidence bag. “Let’s get this back to the lab,” she said. Looking up at Booth, she said, “What is it?”
He took her by the elbow and began leading her away from the group of teachers still gathered around the janitor’s closet. “Jodi Kimball had a very strange reaction when I asked her about Ruby Kalefsky.”
“What was it?”
“I’m not really sure, but she’s obviously hiding something about Ruby.”
“Well, you have the school incident reports back at the lab, right?” Brennan said. “You can look over those while I analyze the hand.”
“Yeah, I’ll get right on it,” Booth said, “after I interview Ben Allman.”
“Mr. Allman, thank you for coming in on such short notice.”
The Senator’s aide nodded, seeming a little jumpy. “Anything to help the Senator.”
Booth swung around and sat down at the table. “Yeah, tell me about that. How did you get the job with Senator Kirkpatrick?”
“Um, my father worked with Senator Kirkpatrick’s brother, Lewis, on a project for the city council. That was when Jan was running for mayor, which she won. After that she asked if my father would be her head aide for the Senatorial race, and he agreed. Then he had a heart attack right before the campaign was supposed to start, so I took over for him.”
“How close are you with the Senator and her family?”
“Well, fairly close, I guess. There’s a whole bunch of us on the campaign - me, and Emily Kauffman, and Edie Grass, and Khalil - and we always ate over at the senator’s house on Tuesday nights. And because Jan’s brother is close to my dad, Lewis and his family are always over at my parents’ house.”
“Did you know Mark Kirkpatrick?”
“Of course I did. He was a great guy.”
“So you got along well with him?”
“Yeah. Mark was a nice guy. I never heard him get angry with anybody.”
“So you never had any trouble with him?”
“No.”
“Does the Senator have enemies?”
Ben looked a little confused by the question. “Well, sure. She’s been in government for more than ten years, and I guess everybody rubs somebody the wrong way.”
Booth nodded, jotting this down on his notepad. “Can you think of anyone who might have wanted to hurt the Senator’s family?”
“Look, I have a list of people we’ve been receiving negative mail from. It’s back at the office. I can get you a copy of that.”
“I’ll also need to know about any mail sent to the Senator’s residence, and any sent to her family members or other campaign workers.”
“Sure thing.” Ben turned his wrist to look at his watch. “Agent Booth, are we finished here? I told Senator Kirkpatrick I’d be back at two-thirty.”
“We’re almost finished,” Booth answered. “Just a few more questions. Did you recently purchase a waffle iron from Chef Supply on Water Street?”
“Um, yeah. The old one I bought when I was in college just shorted out. I’m not much of a cook, but I thought it was time to have a really nice one, top of the line.”
“And are you related, by any chance, to a Keith Allman who lives on Market Road in Arbortown?”
“Yes, yes, I am,” Ben said, looking worried. “That’s my brother.”
“Does he shop at the same Chef Supply?”
“Of course he does,” Ben said. “He’s a chef. Well, not actually a chef. I mean, he cooks and stuff, but mostly he goes around to rich people’s houses and does a sort of cooking show for them, usually at dinner parties. He’s really into it. His wife hates it. He was the one who told me about the Chef Supply.”
Booth nodded. “Do you have a number I can contact him at?”
“Sure,” Ben said, and leaned forward to write a phone number on Booth’s notepad. “And he has an office in the Amesbury Complex; he’s usually there on Monday and Wednesday afternoons.”
“Thanks,” Booth said. “You’ve been very helpful.”
Ben smiled, still looking a little jumpy. “I’ll get the mail over to you as soon as I can.”
“That’d be great.”