day and I was tired, I could feel myself growing excited. “Okay then, let’s discuss the mechanics of the investigation. For starters, if I come up with a suspect and probable cause to arrest, you’re going to have to be the one to present the evidence to the Commonwealth’s Attorney. I have no peace-officer authority in Virginia . . . or anywhere else anymore, come to think of it.”
“I understand.”
“And I need access to the law enforcement computer database, so I’ll call you when I need to run a vehicle or a person for wants and warrants. When we go inside, we’ll exchange wireless phone numbers. Then, as far as paper is concerned, I’ll write investigative follow-ups that you can incorporate directly into your crime report. I’m assuming you have a computer with Internet access at home?”
“Yes, but with three kids I don’t get much of a chance to use it.”
“Any problems with your kids opening your email and reading the report? The last thing we need is for them to talk about what we’re doing. It’ll get back to Holcombe in no time.”
“I don’t see that as a problem.”
“Good. The reports will be in the standard Microsoft Word 2003 document format and I’ll e-mail you copies as I finish them. That way you can keep up with the investigation without us being seen together. Oh, and I’ll also 82
John J. Lamb
e-mail copies of the files to my old partner back at SFPD
just in case . . .”
“Anything happens to our computers?”
“Or us. Still in?”
“Absolutely. Thanks, Brad; I’d forgotten how good it feels to be a cop.”
“My pleasure. Let’s go in the house and you can say hi to Ash.”
It being late in the day, my shin was stiff and achy as I limped toward the front door. I held the door open for Tina and Kitch and, not seeing Ash in the living room or kitchen, called out, “Sweetheart, we have company.”
Ash appeared at the top of the stairs with the portable phone in her hand. “I just got off the phone with Daddy and—oh, I thought I heard someone drive up. Hi, Deputy—”
Tina held up a hand in greeting. “Hi, just call me Tina.”
“She came by to congratulate you on your victory today.”
“And to ask your husband to help me investigate that man’s murder.”
“So, did we get the boat?” I asked.
“He’ll bring it by first thing tomorrow morning.” Ash came downstairs and put the phone back in its base station.
“The boat?” said Tina.
“It’s a long shot, but we’re going to take a little cruise upriver to see if we can locate where the victim was thrown into the river.”
But Tina’s attention was now riveted on the multitude of teddy bears that stood behind glass-faced cabinets and oaken shelves that lined the far wall of the living room.
“Oh my God, look at all the bears.”
“And that’s only part of the collection,” I said.
Tina turned to Ash. “They’re amazing. Did you make them all?”
The Mournful Teddy
83
“I wish. A couple of them are mine, but the rest are either one-of-a-kind artisan bears or limited-edition collectibles from manufacturers like Boyds or Hermann. Do you want to look at them?”
“I’d love to. I’ve always wanted to try my hand at making a teddy bear, but between work and being a single mom there isn’t much time for crafts.”
They walked over to the shelves and Ash picked up an ivory-colored bear with puffy paw pads. Handing the bear to Tina, she said, “Now, this is an interesting one. Susan Arnot makes these out of recycled fur coats and this little girl is made from mink. I got her when we went to the big teddy bear show in San Diego back in . . . honey, do you remember what year that was?”
“August, two-thousand-and-one.”
“But, I thought you guys lived in San Francisco.”
“We did, but Brad had to go down to San Diego to testify on a case where he’d helped SDPD. It just so happened that the teddy bear show was that weekend, so I went there with him and we spent all
“I understand.”
“And I need access to the law enforcement computer database, so I’ll call you when I need to run a vehicle or a person for wants and warrants. When we go inside, we’ll exchange wireless phone numbers. Then, as far as paper is concerned, I’ll write investigative follow-ups that you can incorporate directly into your crime report. I’m assuming you have a computer with Internet access at home?”
“Yes, but with three kids I don’t get much of a chance to use it.”
“Any problems with your kids opening your email and reading the report? The last thing we need is for them to talk about what we’re doing. It’ll get back to Holcombe in no time.”
“I don’t see that as a problem.”
“Good. The reports will be in the standard Microsoft Word 2003 document format and I’ll e-mail you copies as I finish them. That way you can keep up with the investigation without us being seen together. Oh, and I’ll also 82
John J. Lamb
e-mail copies of the files to my old partner back at SFPD
just in case . . .”
“Anything happens to our computers?”
“Or us. Still in?”
“Absolutely. Thanks, Brad; I’d forgotten how good it feels to be a cop.”
“My pleasure. Let’s go in the house and you can say hi to Ash.”
It being late in the day, my shin was stiff and achy as I limped toward the front door. I held the door open for Tina and Kitch and, not seeing Ash in the living room or kitchen, called out, “Sweetheart, we have company.”
Ash appeared at the top of the stairs with the portable phone in her hand. “I just got off the phone with Daddy and—oh, I thought I heard someone drive up. Hi, Deputy—”
Tina held up a hand in greeting. “Hi, just call me Tina.”
“She came by to congratulate you on your victory today.”
“And to ask your husband to help me investigate that man’s murder.”
“So, did we get the boat?” I asked.
“He’ll bring it by first thing tomorrow morning.” Ash came downstairs and put the phone back in its base station.
“The boat?” said Tina.
“It’s a long shot, but we’re going to take a little cruise upriver to see if we can locate where the victim was thrown into the river.”
But Tina’s attention was now riveted on the multitude of teddy bears that stood behind glass-faced cabinets and oaken shelves that lined the far wall of the living room.
“Oh my God, look at all the bears.”
“And that’s only part of the collection,” I said.
Tina turned to Ash. “They’re amazing. Did you make them all?”
The Mournful Teddy
83
“I wish. A couple of them are mine, but the rest are either one-of-a-kind artisan bears or limited-edition collectibles from manufacturers like Boyds or Hermann. Do you want to look at them?”
“I’d love to. I’ve always wanted to try my hand at making a teddy bear, but between work and being a single mom there isn’t much time for crafts.”
They walked over to the shelves and Ash picked up an ivory-colored bear with puffy paw pads. Handing the bear to Tina, she said, “Now, this is an interesting one. Susan Arnot makes these out of recycled fur coats and this little girl is made from mink. I got her when we went to the big teddy bear show in San Diego back in . . . honey, do you remember what year that was?”
“August, two-thousand-and-one.”
“But, I thought you guys lived in San Francisco.”
“We did, but Brad had to go down to San Diego to testify on a case where he’d helped SDPD. It just so happened that the teddy bear show was that weekend, so I went there with him and we spent all
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