apartment on the East Side, we are just about to go there once we get a warrant.”
McCall nodded, grateful that, at last, they had a lead of some sort. “Do we know who may have seen her last?” She was hoping to establish a time frame.
“Yeh, we got a Karl Buntee, he is the janitor there, and he reckons he saw her in the parking garage at around three on Saturday morning.”
“Why was she working on a Friday night?” McCall asked suspiciously.
“Well, it turns out they had a big meeting on the Monday, all to do with some high profile case. Seems she had to get the briefs typed up in time for that.”
“OK, so we have a time frame for vic number one,” McCall said, getting up and writing the numbers on another board, this one for time frames; she drew a line from 03:00 hours until the end of the mark that covered Monday, when her body was found.
“So what have we got?” McCall said, perched on her desk. “Vic One, Karen Lane, went missing on Friday and was found Monday night, so on that basis I guess we can presume he only keeps them for a few days.”
The other two joined her at the time-frame board and stared at the puzzle, hoping something would reveal itself.
“Vic Two was found in the park on Thursday, so if he is holding to his time line she must have been taken on the Tuesday. That’s in theory, but until we find out who she is, it’s only speculation. Same with Vic number three.” McCall looked puzzled. “What I can’t get is, the others were posed but Vic Three was hung off a pier. It doesn’t make sense.”
McCall stood and picked up her coffee mug. She needed caffeine, and was hoping that some strong coffee would blow away some cobwebs. She went into the rest room, followed by Tooms and Tony.
The smell of strong coffee hit them with an awakening jolt; picking up the glass beaker she poured herself a cup then offered it to the others, who responded by putting their cups on the surface next to hers. She filled the cups and put back the half full coffee jug into the coffee machine.
“I don’t get it; there is nothing that connects these women,” she began. “We need to find out who the other two vics are, or this isn’t going anywhere.”
The others agreed and they all moved out of the room and made their way back to their desks. As they turned the corner, there by the board stood the mysterious stranger whom McCall had last seen at the crime scene, his hands behind his back. As he studied the board, he couldn’t help but feel he was being watched.
“Nice board,” he said without moving, in an unmistakable British accent.
“Can I help you?” Sam McCall’s voice almost growled with disapproval at just the mere sight of him, let alone the idea of him staring at her information boards.
“Simple but effective,” he continued, but this time he turned slightly just to acknowledge she was there.
“BUT?” she prodded him to continue, almost as if she was waiting for some ‘British’ sarcastic remark, which never came.
“No really, I like your boards, that’s all. I’m sorry if I have offended you in any way.” With that, he moved away from the boards as if he was trying to be conciliatory.
“Thanks,” she spoke, but the words were somewhat hollow and she was unsure how she should react to him.
She grabbed her cup and headed for the restroom to get a coffee, forgetting she already had one. She felt that she just had to get away. However, he followed, just like a lost child on his first day at school.
“Are you following me?” she growled, eyes blazing.
“Coffee,” he replied, holding up the coffee-filled jug.
“What?” Her expression went from anger to bewilderment in a second.
“I said, do you want a coffee?”
McCall stood like a deer in headlights, then remembered the full cup at her desk and left him in the restroom to make himself a drink. The other two detectives, somewhat bemused by this whole display, just sat back and observed this strange
McCall nodded, grateful that, at last, they had a lead of some sort. “Do we know who may have seen her last?” She was hoping to establish a time frame.
“Yeh, we got a Karl Buntee, he is the janitor there, and he reckons he saw her in the parking garage at around three on Saturday morning.”
“Why was she working on a Friday night?” McCall asked suspiciously.
“Well, it turns out they had a big meeting on the Monday, all to do with some high profile case. Seems she had to get the briefs typed up in time for that.”
“OK, so we have a time frame for vic number one,” McCall said, getting up and writing the numbers on another board, this one for time frames; she drew a line from 03:00 hours until the end of the mark that covered Monday, when her body was found.
“So what have we got?” McCall said, perched on her desk. “Vic One, Karen Lane, went missing on Friday and was found Monday night, so on that basis I guess we can presume he only keeps them for a few days.”
The other two joined her at the time-frame board and stared at the puzzle, hoping something would reveal itself.
“Vic Two was found in the park on Thursday, so if he is holding to his time line she must have been taken on the Tuesday. That’s in theory, but until we find out who she is, it’s only speculation. Same with Vic number three.” McCall looked puzzled. “What I can’t get is, the others were posed but Vic Three was hung off a pier. It doesn’t make sense.”
McCall stood and picked up her coffee mug. She needed caffeine, and was hoping that some strong coffee would blow away some cobwebs. She went into the rest room, followed by Tooms and Tony.
The smell of strong coffee hit them with an awakening jolt; picking up the glass beaker she poured herself a cup then offered it to the others, who responded by putting their cups on the surface next to hers. She filled the cups and put back the half full coffee jug into the coffee machine.
“I don’t get it; there is nothing that connects these women,” she began. “We need to find out who the other two vics are, or this isn’t going anywhere.”
The others agreed and they all moved out of the room and made their way back to their desks. As they turned the corner, there by the board stood the mysterious stranger whom McCall had last seen at the crime scene, his hands behind his back. As he studied the board, he couldn’t help but feel he was being watched.
“Nice board,” he said without moving, in an unmistakable British accent.
“Can I help you?” Sam McCall’s voice almost growled with disapproval at just the mere sight of him, let alone the idea of him staring at her information boards.
“Simple but effective,” he continued, but this time he turned slightly just to acknowledge she was there.
“BUT?” she prodded him to continue, almost as if she was waiting for some ‘British’ sarcastic remark, which never came.
“No really, I like your boards, that’s all. I’m sorry if I have offended you in any way.” With that, he moved away from the boards as if he was trying to be conciliatory.
“Thanks,” she spoke, but the words were somewhat hollow and she was unsure how she should react to him.
She grabbed her cup and headed for the restroom to get a coffee, forgetting she already had one. She felt that she just had to get away. However, he followed, just like a lost child on his first day at school.
“Are you following me?” she growled, eyes blazing.
“Coffee,” he replied, holding up the coffee-filled jug.
“What?” Her expression went from anger to bewilderment in a second.
“I said, do you want a coffee?”
McCall stood like a deer in headlights, then remembered the full cup at her desk and left him in the restroom to make himself a drink. The other two detectives, somewhat bemused by this whole display, just sat back and observed this strange
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