Like Father, Like Son
Page 17
Did he want to? Hell, no. He coached himself to act professionally, though. Took a deep breath as if looking his phobia in the eye was something he could do. He cautiously peered into the mouth. “Fuck me. Okay. Um…yeah.”
He’d seen some strange things in his time, had even read about insects and whatnot being put into victims’ mouths, but in one of his own cases? Never, thank God. But it appeared he owed God no thanks this time. The arse end of the abdomen resembled that of a wasp, only bigger. Much bigger. Egg-sized bigger.
Burgess controlled himself enough to keep his shudder to a minimum while the photographer took more pictures. “I’ll just…step away while you, uh, take it out.”
Turning his back on Marlene, he pulled out his phone to see if Shaw had bothered responding to his earlier text message.
Nothing.
For God’s sake.
“Burge, can you get an evidence box out of my case, please?”
He slid his phone away. Picked out a box and opened it to make it easier for her to pop the ‘sock’ inside. He held it out behind him, relieved that she took it and he could take another step or two forward. He was level with the victim’s feet now, and he stared down at her red-painted toenails. They’d been cut nicely, and she either had exceptionally good skin or she had enjoyed pedicures. So she’d taken care of herself. Had wanted to be pretty?
“Oh, fucking hell…” Marlene breathed. “Would you look at that?”
“I’m not sure I want to. Socks and all that…”
“I know what you mean,” she said. “I thought I’d shit myself, but…wow, it’s large and ugly, but…wow. I’m surprised it even fitted in her mouth.”
Burgess closed his eyes for a second and blew out through pursed lips. He needed to get himself in order and turn around. The sock would be dead, anyway, wouldn’t it? Couldn’t hurt him. But the sight of those things just—
He spun to see Marlene standing now, holding out a tarantula secured in her tweezers, which were more like barbeque cooking tongs. The beast appeared smaller than it would have in life, its legs scrunched up in death, but that abdomen, that other end—its torso and face or whatever?—was still too large for his liking. Just being in its presence was enough to make him want to scream.
“All right, put it in the damn box.” Burgess shuddered, a cold sweat breaking out all over his body, and he focused on the victim’s knees. “Aside from the thing itself being fucking creepy, who the hell would put that in someone’s mouth?”
“The killer, maybe?” Marlene carefully put the thing in the bag.
“Your sarcasm is on point, as usual.” He wiped a hand over his forehead, not surprised that moisture came away on his fingers. “You’re a braver person than me, I can tell you.”
Marlene closed the box and began writing out an evidence label for it. “Believe me, I had to tell myself it was a toy.”
“So it wasn’t?” He knew it wasn’t, but there was no harm in asking. No harm in pretending. Whatever got him through it would work.
“Oh, no. Real thing. Makes this case more interesting, doesn’t it? More challenging for you?” she asked.
He didn’t need to see her face to know pity and understanding would be in her eyes.
“You could say that. We’ll need to contact someone about it,” he said, more to himself than her. “Find out what kind it is and where they can be purchased. I’ll need to maybe see pictures of them.” Bloody hell. Can I do this? “I don’t get how the killer could even have dealt with such a thing.”
“Nowt queer as folk,” she said, going back down on her knees. “They do the strangest things. Anyway, I need to inspect the back of her then she can be loaded up. I’ve thankfully got a clean slate this morning, so I’ll get on with her examination straight away once we get back. You, my dear friend, have a job and a half on your hands, I’d say, because apart from the stumbling block you have, as far as I know, there’s no identification with her. No bag, nothing. Unless someone finds it nearby. Or in the wheelie bins. Oh, hang on.”
Burgess didn’t dare ask if she’d spotted another creature. “What?”
“Let me just check the outside of her vagina, see if anything’s there so you’ve got more to go on. I can’t look inside because she’s stiff as a board and her legs won’t open yet.”
He turned away for that, too, feeling angry that the woman’s dignity had been lost the moment she’d been left here. On show for anyone to see. An assessment of her body carried out in front of people. He shook his head so he didn’t allow any more tender emotions in and waited for Marlene to speak.
“No sign of anything untoward,” she said. “But I’ll know for sure later.”
“Thanks. Six o’clock, The Pig, if I don’t hear from you sooner,” he said.
“Yes. And what a glorious glass of wine I’ll have there. Already looking forward to it. Later, Burge.”
Order your copy here
About the Author
Sarah Masters is a multi-published author in three pen names writing several genres. She lives with her husband, youngest daughter, and a cat in England. She writes at weekends and is a cover artist/head of art in her day job. In another life she was an editor. Her other pen names are Natalie Dae and Geraldine O’Hara.
Sarah also co-authors with Jaime Samms, and as Natalie Dae she co-authors with Lily Harlem under the name Harlem Dae.
Email: emmyellis@live.co.uk
Sarah loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and author biography at http://www.pride-publishing.com.
Also by Sarah Masters
Always
Cabin Fever
Beautiful Sunset
The Man He Needs
Trust
Empathy for a Killer
Blinded: Part One
Blinded: Part Two
Blinded: Part Three
Blinded: Part Four
Blinded: Part Five
Voices: Needing
Voices: Wanting
Voices: Keeping
Voices: Aching
Voices: Faking
Voices: Hiding
Voices: Taking
Vincent: Part One
Vincent: Part Two
Vincent: Part Three
Vincent: Part Four
Vincent: Part Five
What’s his Passion?: Outcast Cowboys
Aim High: Live for the Day
I Need a Hero: Flying with the Stars
With Jaime Samms
Nurture
The Dreaming: Tools of Justice
The Dreaming: Tools of Change