The living room led into a foyer with three closets on either side. The floor was littered with linens. A closed door at one end led to the bathroom. Medina looked at Kearns. "Let's go inside the bathroom," he said, moving to open the door. "Oh my God…"
The tub was filled to the brim with a dark red liquid. Lying face down was the nude body of a Caucasian woman. Her long black hair and body were covered in a hardened mixture of blood as well as adult female blowflies and maggots that were feasting on the decaying human flesh.
"I have never seen anything like this," Kearns said, his mouth wide open in shock. "Better call the boss and tell him we need the detective squad now. We've got a homicide on our hands."
Second-grade detective Marvin Oliphant stuck his head in the door of Detective-Commander Lieutenant Bill Dansk's office. "Lou, Sector Adam has a dead on arrival at 85 Adam Street Apt. 6B Brooklyn. They are calling for the detective squad."
The lieutenant acknowledged the request and at 1 a.m. when the detectives arrived they found Sergeant Spencer standing among a cluster of anxious tenants. Sergeant Spencer observed the detectives getting out of their car, then walked away from the crowd and went to meet them.
"What do you have, Sarge?" Detective Lieutenant Bill Dansky asked as he walked up to Sergeant Spencer.
"We were waiting for you guys to get here," Spencer answered.
"Anything on who lived in apartment 6-B?" Lieutenant Dansky asked.
"A female, white by the name of Barbara Walters," Spencer said. "She's between forty-two and forty-five years old and lives alone. We questioned some of the neighbors, but none of them knew anything about her. According to the building manager, she's lived here for eight years."
"The first thing we've got to do is find out what happened inside the apartment," Lieutenant Dansky said.
A group of detectives hovered in the hallway waiting for emergency services to deliver the gas masks. An N.Y.P.D emergency service truck responded in front of the building to hand gas masks to all detectives and cops entering the crime scene. Lieutenant Dansky turned to Sergeant Spencer "Sarge will you start a log? I want a record of everyone on the scene," Lieutenant Detective Dansky said.
"10-4 Lou," Spencer answered.
Lieutenant Dansky and his detectives approached apartment 6B. Dansky then asked Sector Adam police officer Medina, "Where's the body?"
"It's inside the bathroom—in the tub Lou," Officer Medina said. The detectives put on their gloves and gas masks, and were talking amongst themselves; their masks muffling their voices, giving them a hollow resonance.
Upon entering apartment 6-B with his detectives, the lieutenant remarked, "Looks like somebody put up a hell of a fight."
First-grade detective polo, and second-grade detective Marvin Oliphant walked to the foyer, and they entered through the door leading to the bathroom and the body of Barbara Walters was inside the bathtub. Lieutenant Dansky stood in silence looking down at the tub; shaking his head in disbelief. His gaze found its way to the floor next to the tub and observed two police memo books; one belonging to Detective Richard Vitale and the other belonging to Detective Andy Tiziano. He then put on his latex gloves, picked up the two books, placed them inside a property envelope, and sealed it.
"Looks like we have a mystery here gentlemen," he said waving the property envelope in the air. The lieutenant was in deep thought. The possibility of having two corrupted detectives as the principal suspects in this heinous crime gave the lieutenant goosebumps. He was annoyed but tried not to show emotion in front of his men. He didn't mind burning a cop if necessary but wanted to give these two the benefit of the doubt. He also knew the patrol guide states to report this type of incident to the Internal Affairs Bureau (I.A.B.), which is the department that investigates and arrests corrupt police officers.
At 2 a.m. Sergeant Carl Hooker and Sergeant Mike McCain from I.A.B. arrived on the scene and introduced themselves. Immediately the detective squad on site heard the letters "I.A.B." they all became silent and gave the two I.A.B. sergeants a dirty look.
"How long do you figure?" Detective Coppolo asked.
"Hard to tell," Lieutenant Dansky said, glancing up and down the body. "From the stages of decomposition and the maggot castings…I'd say about a week." Dansky stood up and faced his detectives. "I want this apartment field stripped. Do not leave anything without being searched. Gather up everything—her telephone book, her checkbook, savings account, and credit cards. I want to know her medical history. I want to know who her friends and enemies are. I want to know who she was screwing and where she worked. Now who else has been inside so far?"
"Only Medina, Kearns, and me," Sergeant Spencer answered.
"Let's keep the crime scene accessible only to homicide detectives," Dansky said. "I don't want anyone inside unless they've got a specific reason. And no cops or detectives using their cell phones to call anyone; not even family. Has forensic been notified?"
"They're on their way," Detective Polo answered.
Lieutenant Dansky ordered Detective Polo and Detective Oliphant to secure and tape the crime scene with yellow crime scene tape to avoid unauthorized people tampering with evidence.
A photographer tried to enter the crime scene, but Sergeant Spencer stopped him and called over Lieutenant Dansky.
"Can I help you sir?" Dansky asked.
"Yes sir, I am a photographer from the New York Post. Can I take photos?"
"Not yet. You'll have to wait until the medical examiner comes in and bags up the body. In the meantime, you can photograph the apartment," the lieutenant said.
The forensic technicians arrived and started spreading powder and dusting with plumed brushes. Meanwhile, the detectives searched every nook and cranny of the apartment, looking for physical evidence. Anything considered valuable was tagged and placed into a plastic evidence bag.
Spencer had stationed himself outside the apartment. A rope barrier had been erected in front of the door. Signs were posted prohibiting entrance into the crime scene area.
More detectives arrived from the borough. Sergeant Spencer entered their names and times of arrival into the crime scene log. Dansky dispatched teams of detectives to canvass the complex of 85 Adam Street Apt. 6-B in Brooklyn, NY for witnesses, friends of the victim, or anyone who might know something. Additional teams were sent to interview storekeepers, garage attendants, people who worked in the housing complex, and bus drivers who had nearby routes. Detective Oliphant and Detective Polo canvassed the parked cars within a five-block radius of the crime scene. Every license plate was written down. Later they'd be run through the National Crime Information Center. Perhaps the killer or killers had panicked and ran from the scene, leaving their car behind. The building's underground garage was canvassed for unauthorized vehicles.
Detective Peter Falcon bent down, searching the bottom of the linen closet. Dansky looked down at him waiting impatiently for any news.
"Anything?" Dansky asked.
Detective Peter Falcon crooked his body, straining to look under the bottom shelf. He reached his right hand under and scuffled along the shelf.
"Nothing," Falcon answered.
"Lou, the coroner wagon is here with the medical examiner," an anonymous voice announced.
"Send them in," Dansky said without turning to look.
The two morgue attendants and the medical examiner walked inside the apartment. "Where's the body?" one of them asked Sergeant Spencer.
Lieutenant Dansky ordered the forensics technicians to have the crime scene sketch done in a coordinated method and also to draw an imaginary line where the dead on arrival or D.O.A was. The technicians gathered enough evidence to be delivered to the N.Y.P.D. laboratory where evidence would be analyzed by forensic scientists. As more detectives arrived from the borough and entered the crime scene, Sergeant Spencer entered their names into the crime log.
As the medical examiner, Dr. Morris, and his two morgue attendants arrived at the crime scene, he met with Detective Lieutenant Bill Dansky. The two attendants entered the bathroom lugging a body bag on the floor. The medical examiner performed an initial analysis looking at the apparent signs, symptoms, and cause of death. The medical examiner finished examining the D.O.A.
With impersonal detachment, the morgue attendants laid the bag alongside the bathroom floor next to the bathtub and went about their jobs.
Detectives stopped working and gathered around to watch. Policemen are no different from civilians, military personnel, or firemen when it comes to death. The same thoughts cross their minds: he or she is dead. Someday I'll be dead too. I wonder how long I've got to live.
Without hesitation, the attendants picked up the body put it inside the body bag, and closed it up. They then took it to the coroner wagon and went about their business.
Afterward, the medical examiner took Barbara Walters' body to the lab to perform DNA analysis and other in-depth investigations. Before the medical examiner and the morgue attendants left with the body bag, the New York Post photographer took a photo of the zippered body bag and the remainder of the apartment and went about his business. "Lieutenant Dansky, do you have the memo books you found near the body?" Sergeant Hooker from I.A.B. asked.
"The lieutenant reached inside his front right pocket took out the sealed property envelope that contained both memo books and gave it to the I.A.B. Sergeant.
On January 23, 2013, at noon, Detective Richard Vitale and Detective Andy Tiziano met with assistant chief of payroll operations Steve Moore of One Police Plaza at an Irish bar called Fitzgerald's at the intersection of Wall and Liberty Streets in Manhattan.
"Sir we have a big problem," Vitale said.
"What's that?" Moore asked.
"Tiziano and I dropped our memo books at Barbara Walters's apartment," Vitale said.