The Dead Guy Next Door
Jan. 15th, 2024 10:36 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
canyonwalkerI was all set to post a blog this evening about how I've spent a quiet three-day weekend around home. I may still post that blog tomorrow morning... but it will be changed to how I had a mostly quiet three-day weekend at home. The quietude was broken this evening when there came a knock at our door. It was about 5:30pm.
As I turned on the hall light and headed downstairs to the foyer I noticed through the windows in the door that it looked like a police officer was outside. I could see a navy blue uniform shirt and an insignia patch of some kind on her right shoulder. "Huh," I thought, "I wonder why the police are visiting?"
"We're conducting a wellness check on your neighbor," she explained, nodding her head in the direction of my reclusive neighbor, Stig. "When's the last time you've seen him?"
"Gosh," I stumbled, "It's been at least a week— no, at least two. No, wait, maybe longer."
The officer explained that they were preparing to break the door to gain entry and asked if I, or anyone I knew, had a key. I explained that Stig is very reclusive guy with few or no friends in the neighborhood. He makes no effort to talk to anybody and actively takes steps to avoid even brief social encounters such as chatting with people at the mailboxes or as he's entering or exiting his garage.
The officers— who numbered 4 or 5, and had several police cars parked around our building— were discussing different ways of gaining access to Stig's house. I offered my ladder to help them peer through windows. The spryest of the officers— one who splits duty between police and fire departments so has lots of experience climbing ladders— used mine to peer in windows over the back patio. "Between the front door and the back windows I've gained a visual across almost the entire lower floors, and there's no sign of the subject," he told his colleagues where I could overhear.
Next I suggested they could climb to the kitchen balcony. The door there might be unlocked, I noted. My ladder wasn't tall enough for that climb, so I texted my other neighbor, Mark, who has a taller ladder. It's 16'. "That's a nice ladder," the ablest officer chuckled as we walked it out of Mark's garage.
We set up the ladder and, after some adjustment, the officer climbed right up it and over the balcony railing. The other officers watched in awe. I guess they haven't served rotations in the fire department yet.
Officer Big tried the balcony door. It was locked. But he shined his light through the balcony door and the bathroom window. "I see a body on the stairs," he said in so many words.
When permission came through they broke in through the garage. The door into the main house from the garage was slightly ajar. When they pushed on it there was the clanking of a lot of bottles and physical resistance. Apparently Stig had bags or boxes of bottles piled up against the door. That is both familiar— I still remember years ago when a cleaning crew removed dozens of heavy-duty trash bags of bottles from his house— and strange. Stig used that door to/from his garage daily. Why would he have it partially blocked? BTW, it's only a small coincidence that when those cleaners were carting bag after bag after bag out of his house years ago my first thought then was that he died. 😵
So, anyway, there was a dead guy in the condo next door. We don't know how long he's been there. The last time we saw him alive was Dec. 11. So for all we know he could have been there up to 5 weeks.
Later in the evening the coroner came to check the scene. An undertaker removed the body.
I don't have any info right now about how long the guy had been dead or who his next of kin are. Somebody called in the wellness check... though that could have been the guy's boss at work. Nobody here in the neighborhood knows anything about him except that he's unsociable and hates kids (he has an offensive term for children he apperntlythinks thought was hilarious). I'm not prying. I figure I'll check to see if there's a notice in the paper or talk to a police officer if there's any followup.
As I turned on the hall light and headed downstairs to the foyer I noticed through the windows in the door that it looked like a police officer was outside. I could see a navy blue uniform shirt and an insignia patch of some kind on her right shoulder. "Huh," I thought, "I wonder why the police are visiting?"
Police Action
As I opened the door I saw it was indeed a police officer. She was in a full tactical vest. As she addressed me I noticed that there were actually several police officers, similar attired, in the pipestem lane in front of our townhouse."We're conducting a wellness check on your neighbor," she explained, nodding her head in the direction of my reclusive neighbor, Stig. "When's the last time you've seen him?"
"Gosh," I stumbled, "It's been at least a week— no, at least two. No, wait, maybe longer."
The officer explained that they were preparing to break the door to gain entry and asked if I, or anyone I knew, had a key. I explained that Stig is very reclusive guy with few or no friends in the neighborhood. He makes no effort to talk to anybody and actively takes steps to avoid even brief social encounters such as chatting with people at the mailboxes or as he's entering or exiting his garage.
Ladder Time
The officers— who numbered 4 or 5, and had several police cars parked around our building— were discussing different ways of gaining access to Stig's house. I offered my ladder to help them peer through windows. The spryest of the officers— one who splits duty between police and fire departments so has lots of experience climbing ladders— used mine to peer in windows over the back patio. "Between the front door and the back windows I've gained a visual across almost the entire lower floors, and there's no sign of the subject," he told his colleagues where I could overhear.Next I suggested they could climb to the kitchen balcony. The door there might be unlocked, I noted. My ladder wasn't tall enough for that climb, so I texted my other neighbor, Mark, who has a taller ladder. It's 16'. "That's a nice ladder," the ablest officer chuckled as we walked it out of Mark's garage.
We set up the ladder and, after some adjustment, the officer climbed right up it and over the balcony railing. The other officers watched in awe. I guess they haven't served rotations in the fire department yet.
Officer Big tried the balcony door. It was locked. But he shined his light through the balcony door and the bathroom window. "I see a body on the stairs," he said in so many words.
The Body
The police shifted modes. They were again discussing how to force entry into the house but now they needed permission from a supervisor. I'm not certain what's the difference in the rules of engagement. I gather if it looked like my neighbor might be alive and injured, they'd force their way in pronto to deliver aid. But their visual determination from the window was that he was already dead. Like, rigor mortis dead. ☠️When permission came through they broke in through the garage. The door into the main house from the garage was slightly ajar. When they pushed on it there was the clanking of a lot of bottles and physical resistance. Apparently Stig had bags or boxes of bottles piled up against the door. That is both familiar— I still remember years ago when a cleaning crew removed dozens of heavy-duty trash bags of bottles from his house— and strange. Stig used that door to/from his garage daily. Why would he have it partially blocked? BTW, it's only a small coincidence that when those cleaners were carting bag after bag after bag out of his house years ago my first thought then was that he died. 😵
So, anyway, there was a dead guy in the condo next door. We don't know how long he's been there. The last time we saw him alive was Dec. 11. So for all we know he could have been there up to 5 weeks.
Later in the evening the coroner came to check the scene. An undertaker removed the body.
I don't have any info right now about how long the guy had been dead or who his next of kin are. Somebody called in the wellness check... though that could have been the guy's boss at work. Nobody here in the neighborhood knows anything about him except that he's unsociable and hates kids (he has an offensive term for children he apperntly
no subject
Date: 2024-01-16 06:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-01-17 05:11 am (UTC)Later last night and again at various times today I've thought more about the situation. It's sad. The guy died in his own house. He collapsed on the stairs. We don't know how long he was there before the police arrived to make the welfare check. Clearly someone noticed he wasn't where he was supposed to be. But was he there for a few hours, a day, a week, or longer?