Gerard Way: Crime Scene Investigator

They called in Bob for some help. He was a blood spatter analyst and ballistics expert, just the kind of person they needed for this case.

“So, you ready to help us track the trail?” Gerard asked him, pulling on a pair of latex gloves. Bob nodded, took a swift survey of the room, and headed off to the bedroom first. Frank was snapping pictures, as usual, so Gerard followed Bob down the hallway.

“Looks to me like Dad died first, two gunshot wounds to the chest. Mom walked down the hallway,” he said, taking slow steps and looking at the red smears while Gerard taped down several colored strings to connect the trail.

“She collapsed here and cracked her forehead open on the coffee table, then crawled over to the couch, probably to get the phone. Didn’t quite make it,” he finished. They began collecting DNA from the victims.

“What do you think the mom’s cause of death was, Gee? There’s too much blood for me to tell,” said Frank as he took another picture. Gerard finished what he was doing and studied the scene.

“Same here. We might not know until the coroner’s through.”

“Murder weapons, party of two,” called Bob, holding up a gun in one hand and a blood-covered steak knife in the other. Gerard turned back to face Frank.

“There’s your answer. We’ll have to see if the kid knows what happened, though.”

They thoroughly searched the house, finding several unlabeled prescription med bottles. Gerard opened them all. Each one held five or six pills that looked just like the ones they had discovered in the storm drain.

“Looks like your theory was right after all, Frank,” he said, holding up one bottle and rattling it. “Drug deal gone south.”

“So, does that mean I get your job?” Frank asked with fake hopefulness. Gerard looked at him as if to say, ‘Really, now, that's just stupid.’

“No,” he said flatly. Frank shrugged.

“Oh well. Can’t blame a guy for trying.”
-
“Do you know what happened?” Gerard asked the young boy sitting across from him. He shook his head, making the senior investigator sigh. He had a feeling the boy knew something, but was refusing to talk to him. As of yet, he didn’t even know the child’s name.

Mikey came in and tapped his brother on the shoulder, motioning for them to go outside. Gerard rose and left the office to speak to him.

“I don’t know what to do, Mike. I think he knows something, but he’s not talking.” Mikey scoffed.

“Gee, you look like a ghost. He’s probably terrified of you.” Gerard blinked in surprise. He hadn’t thought of that. He crossed his arms in front of himself.

“What, you think you could do better?”

“In essence, yes,” the younger Way said with a nod. “But I’ll make it up to you. While I’m talking to the kid, you get to go run these for epithelials. Sound fair?” he asked, holding up the two evidence bags. One held the gun, and one held the knife. Gerard sighed and took them from his brother’s hands.

“And you say I’m scary,” he muttered, walking off to the lab as Mikey took his place. He grabbed his lab coat that was hanging on the wall and carried the items over to a large Plexiglass case. There was a short, cylindrical tray sitting on the bottom of the case.

Gerard placed the gun inside first and added a few drops of sodium hydroxide to the tray, swiftly closing the door so the fumes wouldn't suffocate him. He watched as white smoke began rising from the reaction and smiled when he saw several prints appear on the gun. He repeated the process with the knife. There were prints on it as well.

“Any luck?” asked Ray as he entered the lab. Gerard nodded.

“Yep. You?”

“Yeah. Mom sustained two stab wounds, one in the stomach and one between the ribs. C.O.D. was a nasty head injury. Dad was shot in the heart.” Gerard removed the knife from the case and began removing the fingerprints from the two items.

“Where’s Mike? I thought he was processing these,” Ray asked.

“He was. But since he figured I wouldn’t be able to get any info from the kid because I look like a ghost, he decided to trade with me. I’m not really complaining; I haven’t gotten to do much lab work lately.” He scanned the prints into the computer and ran a search on them, knowing it would take some time. Ray left the lab just as Bob entered.

“You done with that yet? I need to run ballistics on it,” he asked Gerard, motioning to the gun.

“Knock yourself out,” Gerard answered. Bob took the gun and left Gerard to his work. The senior investigator returned to the computer, seeing that it had found a match to the prints on the gun. He opened the profile. It belonged to the dead mom. There was also a match to the prints found on the knife, belonging to the dad.

“Any news, Gee?” asked Frank as he entered the lab. Gerard turned around with a look of shock on his face, emphasized by his unnaturally pale hair.

“They killed each other.”