IMPERFECTION by Ray Clark (good books to read for women TXT) 📕

In spite of the fact that he knew beyond any doubt she was dead, he still had to check. He felt for a pulse. No one questioned him. It was the duty of every officer – where possible – to preserve or save life. Briggs came back into the shop, muttering about the mess and the bastard who’d created it.

“Does she have a name?” asked Gardener.

“Janine Harper. Bloke next door identified her. She’s worked here for years. He thinks she’s about twenty-five. He’s not sure where she lives.”

“Any idea what time it happened, Fitz?”

Fitz sighed, removing a thermometer from her rectum. “Judging by the results, I’d say he started last night, reasonably late, so as not to be disturbed.” The pathologist leaned forward and pointed. “Look at the bruising to the face. I think she resisted him. He probably punched her a few times, eventually overpowered her, and then most likely drugged her to be able to get her into that position.”

“Why was she in the shop late at night by herself?” Gardener asked. “It wasn’t her business.”

“Ask him,” said Briggs, pointing outside.

“I intend to, if he ever decides to speak.” Gardener didn’t say anything else, but walked around the counter and through to the back of the shop. Reilly followed. “There are signs of a struggle,” suggested Gardener. His partner nodded.

A small number of bottles and boxes were scattered around the floor. The SIO glanced closely at the shelving and then down at the floor. “The nearest one’s been moved, probably by force.”

“Maybe she ran into here to try and escape.”

“Where to?”

Reilly had no answer. “He obviously followed her.”

“There’s still no trace of blood spatter. So, she couldn’t have been killed in here.”

“That suggests she was still alive when he came into the shop,” offered Reilly.

“So, what the hell did he do with her?”

“More to the point, where?” added Reilly.

Gardener turned back into the main shop, and read the quote. “What’s that supposed to mean?” He stood contemplating. “I suppose it blows the theory of the watch committee.” He nodded towards Janine Harper. “She certainly wasn’t on it.”

“Maybe not,” said Reilly. “But her father might have been.”

“Her father?”

“Val White gave us the names of the committee members. If my memory’s right, there was a bloke called Jack Harper. If there’s a connection, it doesn’t blow your theory entirely.”

Gardener glanced at the floor. “If that’s the case, we definitely need to find Harry Fletcher now.”

“What about him out there, Cuthbertson?” said Reilly. “Do you reckon he’s capable of murder?”

“Could be,” said Briggs.

“I’m not so sure,” replied Fitz. “His shock looks pretty genuine to me. I realise you can’t rule him out, but he’s a bloody good actor if it is him.”

“Isn’t that what we’re looking for, an actor?” said Gardener. “Someone with the ability to disguise himself, someone who has the means?”

“What’s his motive?” asked Briggs.

“Let’s find out.” Gardener walked over to the front door. He spoke to the constable. “Clean him up and take him back to the station for questioning.” He turned back and addressed Fitz. “Meanwhile, can you sort out the post-mortem as soon as possible? I’m particularly interested in the fact that there’s no blood spatter, but there are indications of a struggle in the back room. He must have killed her in the shop. Question is, what’s he used in order to stop her heartbeat? You know as well as I do if he’d done that while she was still alive, this place would be one God awful mess.”

Fitz nodded. “Okay, we’ll remove the body and let the SOCOs do their job.”

Gardener shouted for Steve Fenton. “You know the drill. Sweep for prints. I’d like another ESLA. Be careful with the ropes. The knots look different to the last one.”

He turned to Briggs. “I’ll have to speak to the team. We’ll need to find out where she lives, and speak to her parents.”

“And anyone else that’s close, if they haven’t already been on the phone to report her missing,” Briggs replied.

“I assume she’s not married, there’s no wedding band, nor a line to suggest there was one,” said Gardener. “We need a written report of his information next door. And all the CCTV evidence we can lay our hands on.”

“What a mess,” said Briggs. “The shit’s going to hit the fan with this one.”

“Can you put a call into the FSS?”

Briggs nodded. “How the hell does he manage to do all this without someone seeing him?”

“He doesn’t,” said Gardener.

“Come again?” said Briggs.

“Plenty of people see him. He isn’t worried about people seeing him because nobody knows what he really looks like. Take a look at that crowd out there.” Gardener pointed through the window. “He could be in that lot, somewhere. The front row, maybe. We’d have no idea, because we don’t know him. He knows that – he’s playing on it. He can commit atrocities like this every day. He knows we’re never going to catch him.”

Gardener wanted out. He’d been here long enough. The smell had coated the insides of his nostrils.

“There’s something else, boss,” said Reilly. “If Jack Harper’s dead and this was his daughter, that means your father is on the list as well.”

“I know. I’ve thought of that already.”

Another young constable appeared in the shop doorway. He waved to Gardener, but kept his eyes on the floor. “What is it?”

“The press, sir, they’d like a comment.”

“I’m sure they would. I suppose we’d better tell them something. If we don’t, they’ll only make it up.”

Gardener walked out of the shop, stripped off his paper suit and deposited it in a bin. Briggs and Reilly followed. He spotted a team of Operational Support Officers heading in his direction.

“I’d like you lot to split up and question every