Episode 4 : The Threefold Death

Chapter Four – Room 305

Lincoln propped the door of room 305 open with his jumpkit and stood a few feet inside the entryway, observing. Fritz Leidermann, having been made aware of the crime-scene status of one of the rooms in his charge, stood concernedly behind him.
305 was a spacious room, but it was dark. Daylight struggled in from behind closed, heavy curtains, outlining them like a portal to another world
“There is a switch here to draw the curtains back, if you’d like more light,” Leidermann volunteered. “They’re on a motor.” He stepped into the doorway and began reaching for the switch.
Lincoln looked at the row of switches beside the door. “No. Not right now thank-you,” he said firmly. “We’ll leave everything as we found it, for the forensic team.” He turned to face the manager. “I must ask you to remain outside the room, and to not touch the light or curtain switches, or anything else. As I said, the room is now considered a crime scene, and the last thing you, or I, want is for you to contaminate the scene.” As Lincoln said this, he held up his gloved hand to reinforce what he was saying.
“Oh, yes. Understood, of course,” the manager replied, slightly nervous.
“Very well.” Lincoln turned back to the light switch, and turned on the lights.
He’d been inclined to send the manager packing after he opened the door, but he knew that Zeno always preferred him to do a room sweep first, keeping the manager present in case there were any questions that needed to be asked.
Lincoln looked around the now-illuminated room.
The late Jude Rothburg had not habited this luxury domicile for very long before his unfortunate demise. It looked to Lincoln as if he’d not even slept in the king-sized bed, the sheets weren’t rumpled, and the decorative pillows were still placed in their photoshoot positions. There was a suitcase splayed open like a book, on the luggage rack across from the bed. In the corner, there was a desk, on which was a closed laptop, a wallet, and an ornate, pink gift box with a purple ribbon. Lincoln stepped slowly into the room, looking around as he approached the desk. The gift box seemed weird. He looked inside but didn’t touch it. Its lid lay just to the right side, and the box was empty except for some soft velveteen fabric that had presumably once nestled a small item. There was no card or note, and looking around the room, Lincoln saw nothing that stood out as the present that may have been in the box.
“Was this box from the hotel?” Lincoln asked the manager, who was still standing in the open doorway of the room, “a welcome gift perhaps?”
“No, nothing of ours,” Mr. Leidermann responded, looking at it curiously. “It’s likely he brought it with him.”
Lincoln checked the garbage and recycle bins beside the desk for a possible discarded card that might tell him more, but found nothing. He looked at the suitcase, barely unpacked, it was obvious that the box had not come from there, as there was no space for such an object.
Lincoln peeked into the bathroom, and saw nothing out of the ordinary, so decided it was time to dismiss Fritz Leidermann.
“You have surveillance cameras, correct?” Lincoln asked.
“Only in the lobby and around the perimeter of the building. Not in the rooms of course.”
“Is the footage stored locally?”
“Yes. It’s on our servers on the lower floor.”
“Who has access?”
“There’s a live viewer in the front desk office, but for stored records, only I have access.”
“Alright, I’ll get in touch with you when I’m finished here, I’d like to go over the footage.”Lincoln returned to the door of the room and picked up his jumpkit, using his foot to hold the door open instead. “Thank-you very much for your assistance Mr. Leidermann. It’s best that the door is closed from this point onwards, as a matter of scene security.”
“Of course, I understand,” the manager said, his face giving away his desire to stay, perhaps to help, or something. People were always curious. Lincoln nipped that bud.
“I will be placing a device over the door’s access pad that will both block the reader and sound a very obnoxious alarm if its unauthorized removal is attempted, so I’d advise you let your staff know that its presence is legitimate. Sometimes well-meaning housekeepers will try to remove them.”
“I’ll make sure they’re informed,” Leidermann replied.
“Alright, I’ll be in touch shortly.”
Fritz gave a polite nod of departure and turned down the hallway. Lincoln removed his foot from the door, letting it close on its spring. The ‘do not disturb’ sign fluttered on the outside handle, almost getting caught as the door closed, but it escaped at the last second.

He returned to the desk to examine the laptop and the wallet. The laptop was slightly open, just an inch or so, and it was plugged into the outlet on the desk. Lincoln reached out and lifted the screen with his gloved finger, watching as the screen lit up and asked for a password.
“Too much to hope for I guess,” Zeno said in his ear.
“We can always hope though right? I’ll bag it and send it to you. Maybe you’ll get something from it.”
“I’ve got a drone ready to go, just say the word.” Zee was always eager to get her hands on the tech.
“We’ll see what else we come across here.” Lincoln closed the laptop lid and picked up the wallet, flipping it open. The face looking at him from the California driver’s license was tanned and typical. Rothburg’s forehead had a bit of that Cali botox sheen and the smile looked faked. Lincoln could spot a fake smile like a crow in a crowd of pigeons, because he had practiced in a mirror to get rid of his own. It was tricky to put genuine joy into the eyes.
There was a bit of cash, a few cards, a state concealed carry permit, and nothing else. Lincoln tapped the arm of his glasses to take a still of Jude Rothburg’s address, in case he decided it to go check it out.
“Have you found any next of kin for the late Mr. Rothburg?” Lincoln asked Zee.
“I’ve been building a profile of him,” Lincoln could hear Zee typing quickly as she spoke. “Records show he was divorced five years ago, has an address in California that matches the license in your hand, and very little social media presence. No kids, both parents deceased.”
“Hm, okay.” Do you see a phone number for him anywhere? I don’t see a device anywhere around here, and there wasn’t one on the body.” Lincoln put the wallet down and did a quick check of the desk drawer and the closet beside the desk. He looked at the end tables for a phone that was perhaps charging, but there was nothing. He walked into the bathroom, not expecting much. There was a used towel on the shower rod.
“Nothing in the first layer, I’m sure I can get it though.” Zee replied.
“Oh I can probably get it too.” Lincoln returned to the desk and tapped the speaker phone button and then the button for the front desk. It rang twice and then Lincoln recognized Penny’s voice saying hello on the other end.
“Penny, Agent Lincoln here, calling from 305.”
“I saw that, I assumed it must be you, because, well…you know.”
“Do you have a phone number on file for Mr. Rothburg, as part of his reservation?”
He heard more tapping of keys, and then she gave him the number.
“Thanks Penny,” he said, and then he had another thought. “Penny, you and Jack were the ones that checked Mr. Rothburg in, correct?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“There’s a pink gift box with a purple bow up here in his room. Do you recall if he had it with him when he checked in?”
“No, it was delivered for him before he got here. I gave it to him when he arrived. Is it a clue do you think?”
Bingo
“Oh you never know,” he replied. “Thanks Penny, I’ll be down to talk to you shortly.”
“Ok, you know where to find me.” She hung up.
“She’s quite chirpy isn’t she?” He said to Zee.
“She’s certainly read a few mystery novels.”
“I’ll say. Ok, give Rothburg’s number a call would you?”
He heard the dial tone and then the rapid autodial of the numbers he and Zeno had both just heard, and then the call went right to a recorded message in a voice that was part sales guy, part radio announcer. It was a little too slick for Lincoln, and definitely not his style.
No wonder someone had killed this guy he thought.
The mailbox was full, which was something he could return to once the phone company gave them access, so Lincoln tapped to disconnect the call.
In his jumpkit there were faraday pouches to block transmissions to and from electronics, and once the laptop was secure inside one he had a further look around the room. He looked under the bed, rifled politely through the suitcase, but there really wasn’t much else. The CIS crew could do the detailed inventory, Lincoln was looking for broad strokes, big ticket clues. He had a feeling that the candy-floss gift box was one of those. He took a picture of it, lifted the velvet liner out to see if there was anything under it (there wasn’t) and then left it where it was.
There were just the usual toiletries in the bathroom, which seemed to be the only thing Rothburg had removed from his suitcase. Sam and her forensic team would collect and catalogue the contents of the room and let him know if they found any stray DNA or the like. He took the tech-lock he’d mentioned to Leidermann out of the jumpkit and put the bagged laptop in, and then turned off the lights.

“Hey Zee, how long will it take to get a drone to the truck for this package pickup?”
“Hm,” Zeno responded, pausing a moment. “Eleven-point-two-five minutes with current conditions.”
“Okay, send it. I’m heading that way.”
“Alright, I’ll ping you when it’s a minute out.”
Lincoln exited the room, applied the lock-out device to the door, and headed back downstairs.