Message for Dutch



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Scene Title Message for Dutch
Synopsis A biker with a red number drops a potatoe sack on the sidewalk of the NYPD, Cassidy is there to see it happen and investigates the package. Turns out to be a rather messy message for Agent Ohnesorge.
Date May 09, 2009

Outside the NYPD

It's dark, the area finally getting a relief from the heat of the day, and the street is relatively clear, except for the buzzing of a motorcycle that rides by. A particularly large guy wearing all black biker gear with a red 30 on his helmet rides by the station on his bike, then roughly dumps a potato sack on the sidewalk. Not even slowing down once, he just speeds up and keeps going.

Cassidy is returning to the station from an evening of hanging out with a certain SRT agent as well as her partner. The dispatcher said that she had some paperwork waiting for her on one of her other cases, that usually means corrections. So she's gearing up for a late night at her desk. As she jogs up the stairs, it's the sound of the motorcycle that catches her attention and causes her to pause. Her eyes narrow a bit at the outfit, even noting that red 30. Something seems familiar about that, but she can't exactly dwell on thought as the sack is dumped on the sidewalk, not far from her. She turns to shout after the rider. "Hey!" But by then he's gone. She slowly makes her way down the stairs, to carefully approach the bag. She grabs a uniform as he passes. "Hey.. get some people out here now." She orders roughly, eyeing the sack.

The sack lays there, suspiciously lumpy, with fresh blood beginning to seep through the sack. There's a voice that suddenly starts playing, repeating the same thing over and over again, but not very loudly. It sounds like, "Hey, get me out of here, hey, get me out of here, hey, get me out of here…" as if it's on a loop. It sounds youthful and forced, as if the voice was forced to say it.

"Oooh shit." Cassidy says softly, crouching near the bag. She doesn't look behind her but motions at the cops coming in behind her. "I need some gloves now." She says quickly, feeling a pair of rubber gloves stuffed in her hand. She starts to tug them on, her nose wrinkling against the smell that's starting to seep out with the blood.

"Are you sure you should.." The cops behind her trails off as Cassidy feels carefully around the bag for an opening.

"Just get everyone back." The detective snaps. She presses gently here and there. "Come on.. where is it." She murmurs until she finds the opening and slowly opens it, holding her breath.

The bag is opened, and the body is starting to smell, even though it's obviously not been dead too long. It's missing its head, hands, and feet, and the hair appears to have been carefully waxed from every inch of the body. The voice is coming from a tape recorder, obvious evidence to be checked later on. And, on the stomach, there's words carved into it with some sort of blade: "ARNOLD WASN'T DUTCH" and smaller words under that, "DUTCH IS BETTER" and under that, there's an arrow pointing down for some reason, as if suggesting to turn the body over.

Cassidy presses the back of her wrist to her nose at the smell. 'Don't think of it as a body. It's just a piece of meat.' She swallows and takes a slow deep breath steadying breath. Her eyes widen a bit at what's written there. "Shit.. Dutch." She knows Dutch, in fact, she had just been sitting at a bar talking with him. She glances behind her, looking for certain officer. "Mack." An older man, seems to perk at the name. "We need a Coroner and the CSI. Not on the radio.. We're right outside." SHe' quick to correct him, she doesn't want it going over the scanner. She turns back to the body when the officer hurries inside and gets down lower. One hand on the sand on the ground, the other slowly turns the body so that she can peek under it.

First she'll notice that there are words carved into the side of the ribs, "PS. WHOOPS, KILLED THE MESSENGER" And then, once she can see the man's back, "WANT MY GUNS, AND A ONE ON ONE FIGHT, NO ARMOR, NO WEAPONS." And, lower, smaller words, "PPS. WTF IS THIRTY SIX KIDS?"

Cassidy purses her lips reading the words and then lowers the body slowly. "Just great." She whispers. About that time the crime scene investigators arrive, and the detective stands and backs away while carefully removing her gloves. "Yay.. more paperwork." She takes a deep breath and let's it out slowly. The officer, she sent for the forensics team, comes up beside her.

"Mack, watch the scene. I need to go make some phone calls." Cassidy's voice is cold and hard. "I need some answers, right now."

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