Bone Cold

James Roger Cooper In
Bone Cold
BY MATT STICKEL
















November 27, 2001

Chapter 1:
Johnston T. Williams

It was a cold morning in November 1955. It had snowed all night last night and there were at least four inches of snow on the ground. It was around 7:00 A.M. and the sun was still hidden behind the dark clouds. I was sitting at my desk when my secretary came in with Detective Harding, my boss. He was the chief police officer of our station, but he did his best work in detective work. He and I were good friends, and partners in a way. He was a good thinker and I was good at picking up on clues. Together we made a good team, and solved some pretty hard cases.
As I was saying before I got off track, I was in my office in the New Jersey Police Department when my secretary came in with Detective Harding.
"Sir, it's good to see you. What's up?" I asked while motioning him to take a seat in the chair in front of my desk.
"Oh, nothing much…at least if it weren't for this murder investigation," he said as he got comfortable in the chair.
"A murder investigation?" I asked with a puzzled look on my face.
"Yeah, a man by the name of Johnston T. Williams was found dead outside his apartment building. They're not quite sure if he was murdered or froze to death," said the detective as he handed me a folder.
Inside the folder it had pictures of the crime scene, and the biopsy report. The report claimed that they couldn't tell if he had froze to death or if he was strangled. No bullet wound was found and no knife puncture was seen. No mark was found around his neck, and there were no bruises, which ruled out the possibility of a struggle. There were also small spots of frostbite on his arms, neck and waist.
"Were there any witnesses who heard an argument that night?" I asked while still looking at the folder.
"None. The body was found around 10:00 P.M. last night."
"Well that's odd, I'd think someone would have heard something. Himmerman St., that's in a quiet neighborhood isn't it?" I asked.
"Yeah, I know. Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" asked Detective Harding.
"Someone saw something but just isn't telling us."
"It must have been a murder, because who freezes to death right outside their apartment building?"
"No one I know. You want to come with me to the crime scene?"
"That's what I came here for," said the detective as he started to get up.
We left my office and went to the apartment buildings. The first person to speak to was the landlord, Miss. Halogen.

Chapter 2:
Miss. Halogen

We knocked on Miss. Halogen's door. She answered and we told her who we were and why we were there. She was an elderly lady who smelled like she smoked. I couldn't tell if she looked old because she was or because she smoked. She said she was expecting us and invited us in. She escorted us to a couch and asked if we wanted something to drink. We detectives want to make ourselves feel at home, so we had some coffee.
"Miss. Halogen did you hear anything last night around nine to ten o'clock?" asked Detective Harding just before he put sugar and cream into his coffee.
"I told the boys last night that I didn't see or hear anything. That's about the time I go to bed and watch TV," she said with a little bit of frustration behind her voice.
"Miss. Halogen did Johnston always pay his rent on time?" I asked as I took a sip of my black coffee. I usually put cream and sugar in but I didn't plan to drink all of it so why waste cream and sugar with it?
"Does anybody? He was actually the worst out of all of them, he rarely paid on time," she said while she grabbed a cigarette.
"Why didn't you evict him?" asked Detective Harding.
"I guess it was because of his name, Johnston T. Williams. Is it just me or is that a name for a rich guy. I guess I was thinking he was going to pay me a lot of money for being nice and not evicting him," she said kinda sorrowful while she lit her cigarette.
"Well we looked at his background and account at the bank, he's not rich and never was. He doesn't have a rich family either. I guess his folks named him that in great expectations," said Harding.
"Did he ever look to be involved in drugs or gambling?" I asked.
"No, he didn't pay because he didn't have the money, not because he lost it."
"Miss. Halogen have you ever heard him and a neighbor fight?" asked Harding.
"No…wait…not a neighbor but some guy came over a few nights ago and they seemed to be arguing pretty bad," she said.
"About what," I asked as I finished my coffee off, just to be polite.
"I don't know."
"Do you know where he lives?" I asked.
"No, but I know his name, Mr. Bennett."

Chapter 3:
Mr. Bennett

Finally, a suspect. We thanked Miss. Halogen for her time and the information. We returned back to the station and pulled up Mr. Bennett's folder. We went over and stopped by where he worked, Rollin' Log Lumberyard. He was tall, muscular, and chubby. He was most likely in his late thirties. We asked if he could pull away from work for a while, but he suggested we just talk there, so we did.
"Do you know a Johnston T. Williams?" I asked.
"Yeah, we're good friends, we go way back," claimed Mr. Bennett.
"Mr. Bennett did you go over to his apartment a few nights ago?" asked Detective Harding as we put on some hard helmets.
"Yeah, why?" he asked as he picked up some lumber.
"He was murdered last night," I told him.
"Murdered? John Williams? Wow. Wait, you guys don't think I did it do you?" He asked with a surprised look on his face.
"Well, his landlord claims she heard you and him arguing a few nights ago," Harding claimed.
"Nosy landlords. Yeah, we were arguing."
"Over what?" Asked Harding.
"Well you see he and I bet on a football game last Sunday, and I lost. Well, John had quite the temper especially when it came to money. Well, I told him I didn't have the money and he got all mad because he needed it for his rent," he said as he picked up some more lumber.
"Boy, I'd be afraid to argue with a man of your size," I said.
"He knew I wouldn't hurt a fly. He and I never had a physical fight, he knew I would win and I wouldn't want to fight him," said Mr. Bennett.
"Oh, by the way where were you last night?" I asked him.
"Well…lets see…I was home watching a movie," he said.
"Was anyone else there?" asked Harding.
"Nope."
"Well I think we can work off this, thanks," I said as I put my hand out to shake his. He took mine and Detective Harding and I left and headed to the apartment buildings again.
When we got there we went up to the neighbor's door. We introduced ourselves and she introduced herself as Miss. Thompson.

Chapter 4:
Miss. Thompson

She invited us in. It was the nicest apartment I'd ever seen. She fixed it up and made it really cozy. She was probably in her mid-forties. She worked as a furniture designer, which explained the very nice furniture in her apartment.
"I'm sure you heard about your neighbor's death?" I asked.
"Yes, I was here when the police came to investigate. I already told them what I know," she said while she took a seat.
"Well Miss. Halogen told us there was an argument a few nights ago," said Harding.
"I wouldn't know, I was in New York earlier this week. I was there for a business trip."
"When did you arrive home?" I asked.
"Two nights ago," she said.
Well, she couldn't help us verify Mr. Bennett's story. We thanked her for her time and headed down to Miss. Halogen's office. We asked to see the rent records and she escorted us to a file cabinet.
"Knock yourselves out," she said while smoking a cigarette.

Chapter 5:
It Starts To Make Sense

I picked out Williams' folder and looked at November's rent, it was paid! He couldn't have gotten mad at Mr. Bennett for not getting paid, because he paid the rent before the argument. According to the record he paid it the Saturday before last Sunday, before the football game. Hmm? Why would Mr. Bennett lie about that? Things weren't looking good for Mr. Bennett. 1) He lied about what the argument was over. 2) He didn't have an alibi that could be verified. 3) Johnston most likely died from a strangling and Mr. Bennett's hands were like lethal weapons, I found that out when I shook them. The only thing that didn't make since was that there weren't any bruises. There must have been some sort of struggle. Nobody gets strangled without struggling. Then I thought about it.
We went to the office and I looked at the biopsy report again. Just as I thought, he had frostbite in small spots around his body. Frostbite happens when blood freezes in the blood vessels. If he had bruises those would probably have become frostbitten. I'd solved it! I told Harding and he caught Mr. Bennett at the airport heading for Mexico on a plane.
It seems Mr. Bennett told us the story back-words. He didn't get his money from Johnston and strangled him with his bare hands outside Johnston's apartment. He left the body outside and headed home. Man, I now think one of the most popular motives for killing is some pieces of paper with a picture of a president on it.
Well another case was finished. I closed up my office and told my secretary, Mrs. Barnes, goodnight. I went home sat on the couch, flipped on the TV, and relaxed. I think I deserved it, it had been a long day.

THE END