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Authors: phill syron-jones
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the reflection from the window.
“Yes, yes whatever you say,” They agreed on a time.
“Till tomorrow then,” and he put down the receiver before the Captain could reply. He sprung up out of his chair and raced to the door. Swinging open the heavy panel he stuck his head round the corner to see his secretary, a pretty young thing dressed all in black, apart from a white frilly blouse which left not much to the imagination.
“Oh, Beatrice,” She looked up with a start as the fringe of her long red hair fell over her blue eyes. “Yes, doctor?” Her voice was slightly bouncy, with the tone of a young teenager.
“Listen, I will not be available as of tomorrow, so could you cancel my appointments for the week? Thank you.” He gazed at her from head to toe.
“Nothing the matter, I hope, doc,” she said, the gum in her mouth clinging between the upper and lower molars.
“No, no, just consulting on a little case for the police, that is all.”
He was back in his office. At last , he thought, newspapers, press; he would be back up there again.
The caretaker , a friendly, plump woman with large brown-rimmed glasses, had let Tooms and Tony into Karen’s apartment. The place was large with lots of windows, and the white walls enhanced the natural light in the sitting area, and as they looked round there appeared to be a kitchen next to this space with only a breakfast bar to separate the two. As they went through Karen’s belongings it became apparent to them that she had little social life: pretty much everything she had appeared to be work-orientated.
Tony went through her fridge while Tooms checked her mail; they both came up empty.
“This girl was super clean, I mean the fridge is laid out in some sort of order, even the stuff in her cupboards is labelled where it should go, nah, this is freaky, bro,” Tony said, shutting the fridge and joining Tooms in the sitting area.
“Why is it whenever we come to a victim’s home we try and find some dirty secrets in their life, or something to try to make sense and explain the bad things that happened to them?” Tony continued, going through her sock drawer. He found nothing.
“Human nature, bro,” Tooms replied. “We can’t really accept bad things happen to good people, there is no social justice in it, but if bad things happen to bad people, well that’s all right. Unfortunately we know that aint always the way it works and it sucks.”
“Yeh, I guess you’re right. I got nothing, just her diary and planner, let’s get back.”
The two friends left for the precinct, leaving CSU to check for any more evidence about the girl.
Charlene Walters had had a long day at the club, the wives’ meeting had gone on forever. The society ladies meeting only met once a month and it was a chance for her to get out of the house for a bit. She had mingled but it was time to go, so she said her farewells and made for the door.
The grey suit she wore clung to her body. Even though she was in her late fifties she had the looks and body of a hot forty-year-old, and she knew it.
A young twenty-something guy brought round her car; she observed him closely as he got out and held the door of the Mercedes for her, and she slid into the driver’s seat of the sports car, pressed a hundred into his hand, and winked. He shut the door and she sped off into the distance. As he opened the folded note her business card fell out, and he picked it up and stuck it into his vest pocket with a grin.
It was a long drive from the Hamptons; however, it could not be helped, it was that or stay home with him. And it was a beautiful night, the stars shone like diamonds in the dark of the heavens, shards of light smudged across the windshield as she sped past the streetlights guiding her path towards the city. As Charlene got into Manhattan, she was aware it was not as late as she thought and decided to do a little stop-off.
The park house was almost empty but she still decided to park as
“Yes, yes whatever you say,” They agreed on a time.
“Till tomorrow then,” and he put down the receiver before the Captain could reply. He sprung up out of his chair and raced to the door. Swinging open the heavy panel he stuck his head round the corner to see his secretary, a pretty young thing dressed all in black, apart from a white frilly blouse which left not much to the imagination.
“Oh, Beatrice,” She looked up with a start as the fringe of her long red hair fell over her blue eyes. “Yes, doctor?” Her voice was slightly bouncy, with the tone of a young teenager.
“Listen, I will not be available as of tomorrow, so could you cancel my appointments for the week? Thank you.” He gazed at her from head to toe.
“Nothing the matter, I hope, doc,” she said, the gum in her mouth clinging between the upper and lower molars.
“No, no, just consulting on a little case for the police, that is all.”
He was back in his office. At last , he thought, newspapers, press; he would be back up there again.
The caretaker , a friendly, plump woman with large brown-rimmed glasses, had let Tooms and Tony into Karen’s apartment. The place was large with lots of windows, and the white walls enhanced the natural light in the sitting area, and as they looked round there appeared to be a kitchen next to this space with only a breakfast bar to separate the two. As they went through Karen’s belongings it became apparent to them that she had little social life: pretty much everything she had appeared to be work-orientated.
Tony went through her fridge while Tooms checked her mail; they both came up empty.
“This girl was super clean, I mean the fridge is laid out in some sort of order, even the stuff in her cupboards is labelled where it should go, nah, this is freaky, bro,” Tony said, shutting the fridge and joining Tooms in the sitting area.
“Why is it whenever we come to a victim’s home we try and find some dirty secrets in their life, or something to try to make sense and explain the bad things that happened to them?” Tony continued, going through her sock drawer. He found nothing.
“Human nature, bro,” Tooms replied. “We can’t really accept bad things happen to good people, there is no social justice in it, but if bad things happen to bad people, well that’s all right. Unfortunately we know that aint always the way it works and it sucks.”
“Yeh, I guess you’re right. I got nothing, just her diary and planner, let’s get back.”
The two friends left for the precinct, leaving CSU to check for any more evidence about the girl.
Charlene Walters had had a long day at the club, the wives’ meeting had gone on forever. The society ladies meeting only met once a month and it was a chance for her to get out of the house for a bit. She had mingled but it was time to go, so she said her farewells and made for the door.
The grey suit she wore clung to her body. Even though she was in her late fifties she had the looks and body of a hot forty-year-old, and she knew it.
A young twenty-something guy brought round her car; she observed him closely as he got out and held the door of the Mercedes for her, and she slid into the driver’s seat of the sports car, pressed a hundred into his hand, and winked. He shut the door and she sped off into the distance. As he opened the folded note her business card fell out, and he picked it up and stuck it into his vest pocket with a grin.
It was a long drive from the Hamptons; however, it could not be helped, it was that or stay home with him. And it was a beautiful night, the stars shone like diamonds in the dark of the heavens, shards of light smudged across the windshield as she sped past the streetlights guiding her path towards the city. As Charlene got into Manhattan, she was aware it was not as late as she thought and decided to do a little stop-off.
The park house was almost empty but she still decided to park as
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