Frowning thoughtfully, Samantha held the silver medallion with her white latex gloved thumb and forefinger. Her frown deepened. The blood splashed across the insignia of the three legged triskelion, which stood for protection. It had not done its job, she thought ironically. A vision flashed across her mind of a shadowed figure ripping it from the victim. She looked closer. The blood was definitely not that of the recent victim – too old.
She pulled a bag from her pocket and slipped the medallion in. This was undoubtedly evidence that there was more than one victim. She looked around as if expecting to see the second victim somewhere nearby. A smile bubbled up inside her. Of course that was ridiculous. That body would be long gone. But she felt sure the two were connected.
Breathing in deeply, she summoned up energy to overcome the crushing weariness washing over her.
***
Back at the station she scrolled through old police records for anything on Linda Smit. She drew a blank. She closed her eyes and tried to recall the fleeing form she had seen in her vision – tattered coat flying behind like a cape and bare feet. Black matted hair bouncing in clumps like Medusa’s snake hair. Homeless?
She stood abruptly and grabbed her coat from the coat rack.
Jacob made to follow but she waved him back. “You keep looking for Anton.”
Disappointed, he sat heavily and continued staring at the paused footage of the empty dark alley. The calm belied the fact that the scene would soon be filled by a gruesome murder. He set the footage rolling, becoming animated by the tiniest sign of life - rubbish being flung into the dumpster, a paper bag rolling in the wind, a door slamming...then nothing.
Then Dianna appeared looking anxiously behind her. He pressed closer to the screen, eyes narrowed. Then, without warning she was pulled out of frame and the scene was broken by her scream. Then empty again. He crossed his arms. The tape kept rolling.
***
Samantha parked in a side street in Chelsea and walked to The Phene, a private member’s club. She wound her way through groups of people saluting each other with expensive cocktails and stopped before a group lounging in shiny leather couches.
Bernard looked up and waved a hand to indicate a chair opposite. The leather creaked as Samantha sat down. Bernard was in his thirties with stubble worn in the fashionable way. It was going grey and it bristled as he ran a tanned hand over his chin.
“Hello Bernard.”
His grey eyes narrowed and he slouched casually back into his chair.
“Now, I wonder why you would seek me out,” he drawled. "Not for my body, I'll wager."
Those around him laughed uneasily.
Samantha pulled out the evidence bag with the medallion inside.
Comments
And the way you teased with the question mark preceded by Homeless...pure nectar. Loved the chapter Suraya.