Nixing Crime Scene Cleanup as a Career
By Donnell Ann Bell
My day started out well. My alarm went off; I rose without hitting the snooze button and had an hour to get to my destination. I was organized and ahead of schedule, I even had time for a cup of coffee!
Coffee brewed; I poured it into my favorite mug (a cup given to me by my daughter years ago). In fact, the cup was so ancient, my husband had glued the handle once, and except for a tiny fissure in the porcelain, you barely noticed the flaw.
By now if you’re following this woeful tale, you can guess what happened. I hadn’t even taken a sip when I entered my bedroom and the body of the cup fell away, leaving me with nothing but the handle. There was no crack, no warning. I was surrounded by silence, a twelve-inch puddle at my feet, and coffee soaking my carpet.
Great. The clock was ticking. I had some place to be, but my carpet! I wet a towel, squeezed Dawn onto the fabric, dropped to my hands and knees and commenced scrubbing. This was going to stain. Still, it could’ve been worse. The stain, though large, was limited. I’d clean up the rest when I got home.
Can you spot the coffee cups in the picture? That’s where the cookie crumbled…I mean the coffee spattered!
A limited stain? What was I thinking? Oh, I’d done an adequate job of cleaning the mess I made on my carpet. What I hadn’t noticed was that in my rush to get out the door, the coffee wasn’t restricted to a circular spot on the floor. Suddenly, I felt like a detective entering a crime scene who discovers blood spatter. All right, the evidence caking my walls wasn’t red; it was Seattle’s Best with a dash of creamer. But it had spattered! Everywhere I looked I saw coffee! An additional stain on the carpet, streaks on the wall and the baseboards. Droplets hurled from the cup had even made it onto the fireplace wall and the ceiling.
When my coffee cup fell from my hand, the distance to the floor was maybe three feet. There was no significant energy involved–no projectile(s), no brute force. Yet, look how far that liquid spread.
In Citizens Academies, I’ve studied pictures of blood spatter and the grotesque coverage of mattresses, headboards, additional furniture, floors and walls. So much goes into an investigation and the crime scene is just the beginning. Detectives and crime scene analysts must decipher and analyze these scenes to determine the timeline, how the suspect entered, where they stood in the attack, what type of weapon was used, e.g.(baseball bat, knife, gun, etc.) and so much more. Particularly when families demand justice, and the victim(s) aren’t alive to share. Here’s a website I found that provides a good explanation. https://www.forensicsciencesimplified.org/blood/how.html
It’s no secret that many of the things I experience in life, I write about. I found the physics behind the dropped cup so interesting. Especially since it’s applicable to my genre of crime fiction. I know one thing is for certain after cleaning up my mess. I prefer writing about crime scenes as opposed to working them. And after the coffee incident, I’m also nixing crime scene cleanup as a career.
Not the best way to start the day! I hope the remainder of your day went better, Donnell!
Oh it did. But not the day after, and that’s when I got the seven-foot ladder out. But that’s another blog! 🙂
Reminds me of an attempted rape case I worked about 45 years ago. A man broke into a mobile home shared by three college-age sisters. Two sisters were at home when he climbed in a window. The girls fought him off but were stabbed numerous times during the attack. Left behind one of the bloodiest scenes I saw in my career. Fortunately, the sisters were not seriously injured despite all the stab wounds. No such thing as a crime scene cleaning company back then and we didn’t want the parents to see all that blood.
After we had processed the scene, we pulled a garden hose into the house and washed the blood on the linoleum floor out the front door and diluted it into the ground. Probably wouldn’t be considered proper procedure today!
Oh, my goodness, Wes, what a generous thing to do to spare those poor parents, but you’re right today you would be in serious trouble 🙂 You don’t say, but I hope you caught the suspect!
Yes, and solved other rapes also. I just checked–he’s still in prison 45 years later, now 66. That’s what we do to rapists in Louisiana.
Excellent!!!
Coffee disaster! I think the only thing that goes further is when the dog shakes off the water. Now I want to hear about the ladder…
That is one painful story, Bethany! To be continued 🙂
Great crime scene. I noticed the “To be continued” comment. Were you able to get to your appointment on time? I’d guess not.
Steve, yes, I’m rarely late to pickleball LOL. It’s when I got home and discovered the mess and dragged out the seven-foot ladder 🙂
So glad I’m not the only one whose mind drifts to forensics at the most unexpected times!
Always! Otherwise, we’re perfectly normal, right, Marie? 🙂
Out of a morning disaster, sounds like there were two lessons learned. Good post!
Oh yeah, Gay. I have the bruises to prove it! 🙂
This reminded me of the time Hubby cut his hand when a Corning Ware pot shattered as he put it away on the lazy susan in our kitchen.
After I got him taken care of (He didn’t need stitches, but had to hold his hand up for a while to stop the bleeding), I had to clean up the shards and bloody mess. I found the mystery writer in my analyzing everything. Where the blood spatters were? Where the shards ending up? What part cut his hand? Why did the pot shatter?
Writers: we want to know. lol
Brava, Pat, you are a true mystery research, and condolences to you husband on having to be your pet project 🙂 Glad he wasn’t hurt too bad.
Yeah, clean-ups are always messy. This one reminded me of my days working Tac. I’d just gotten a cup of hot coffee from Dunkin’ Donuts and got a call at this department store. They’d just laid a section of this white carpeting that looked great, until I arrived and somebody yelled, “There he goes. Stop him.” I saw a guy running and started after him, crushing the cup in my hand and depositing the brown liquid onto their new carpeting. I caught the thief, but left a stain that was henceforth attributed to me from then on. But damn, I sure loved that D&D coffee.
Ha ha ha! Leave it to police officers to always one-up my coffee story! That is great. My daughter loves Dunkin Donuts coffee 🙂 Thanks, Mike.