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A maid with a mop in her hand.
Mia Ripley, rocking a black dress, boots, and ponytail that stretched out her wrinkles. Faultless to a touch.
“Jesus,” Ella said. “Sorry, I passed out.”
“You sure did,” said Ripley. “Come on, we need to get going. I’ve got some bad news.”
Ella shook away the numbness and rose out of her chair. Her stomach twisted into a knot, because she already knew exactly what Ripley was going to say.
“We’ve got a third body,” Ella said.
“Yes. He killed again last night.”
***
“I don’t understand,” Ella said.
“Me neither,” replied Sergeant Grant.
Ella, Ripley, and Sergeant Grant were in the kitchen of apartment forty-six, West Orchard Building in Dellmount. Two forensic technicians knelt below the body of the apartment’s owner, a Miss Abigail Cartwright. Ella paid a silent respect to the poor woman as she and Ripley looked at the scene with an analytic eye. However, from what Ella could gauge so far, this murder added another layer of confusion to the profile.
“Talk us through it again,” Ripley said. “Who called it in?”
“Anonymous caller around one a.m. Said there’d been a murder here. We thought it was a prank but we had an officer check it out. He found this.”
“Get your guys to send us a copy of the call,” Ella said. “How did the officer get in?”
“Door was unlocked.”
Ella and Ripley exchanged a look. Until now, their unsub or unsubs had yet to enter through the front. It could have been a product of opportunity, but there was enough deviation in the profile already. The last thing Ella needed was another anomaly.
Grant continued, “He said he found her lying in that same position. The body hasn’t been moved at all. No signs of forced entry on the front door. No back door. No open windows. I’ve been on to the security company here to get the CCTV footage from out front.”
Ella nodded, then went to take in the rest of the apartment. The place was spacious and well-cared for, decorated in a light green color scheme from kitchen to living room to bedroom. Abigail had a taste for the finer things, Ella thought, because her hand-crafted cabinets and mahogany grandfather clock couldn’t have come cheap. The living room had two single-seater chairs, a glass coffee table and a waist-high bookshelf lined with classic women’s fiction.
Abigail was a traditional woman. Living alone in a well-maintained place. Given the lack of blood in the kitchen area, Ella guessed she’d been strangled.
All of this followed the same pattern as the first victim. Vanessa May and Abigail Cartwright were similar in character, and this little fact slotted two confirmations in place. Before Ella could finish her thought, Ripley tapped her on the back.
“So, we know one thing,” Ripley said.
“We have at least one serial killer on our hands.”
“Yup. Vanessa May’s murder wasn’t a crime of passion, at least. She’s part of a pattern.”
Number one, they were dealing with a serial offender. Number two, he had a preferred type of victim. But now with confirmed serial status and two similar murders, that left more questions about Katherine Parkinson, the stray woman in the middle.
Ella said, “Whether this is the second or third victim, he’s changed his M.O. again. There are no back doors into this place, so he must have come through the front.” Ella pointed to the chair along the far wall. “Half drunken water bottle. Laptop still running. This guy arrived unexpectedly. Might have ambushed her.”
“It could have been as simple as that,” said Ripley.
Ella regarded her, then said, “Look at this place. Does Abigail strike you as someone who wouldn’t lock her doors? She’s got locks on this cabinet for God’s sake. This woman is capable, worldly, organized.”
Ripley tried one of the handles on the mahogany cabinet, then nodded in agreement. “Good point. So he’s using a ruse.”
A forensic technician popped their masked head into the room and gave the agents the signal to join them. Ella and Ripley journeyed back to the body, now complete with yellow markers to signal the areas of note. The technician removed her mask and said, “Not a whole lot to go on. No blood loss, just severe bruising around the neck and larynx. A coroner can give you a more accurate reading but it’s clearly death by manual asphyxiation. No ligature marks. Body has been here for around seven hours.”
“Thank you. Are we free to inspect?” asked Ripley.
