So Sorry I have been MIA you guys! I have been working on several stories and have approximately 500 drafts of different chapters, yet haven't been posting. I apologize. I hope to be posting more often on all of my stories, especially this one more frequently now that the semester is over and I have better work/life balance.
I hope you guys enjoy this chapter! Not the most exciting, but setting up some stuff to come that I have planned
The dick had been right. The case was interesting…
Kylie had been up all night reading the file and examining the few photographs that had been included with the file. Her flat now looked like a crime scene. She was almost thankful she didn't have any furniture yet, as the photos were spread around her as she sat on the floor with her laptop and a large paper cup filled with coffee. She was never so thankful to live next to a 24-hour café then when she had yet to purchase a coffee maker for her place.
She drained the rest of her cup, tossing it back with the other large cup in the paper waste bin before turning back to the photos. Kylie picked up the photo that was bugging her the most, staring at it intently; silently wishing she had the full body in front of her so she could at least know if her hunch was right.
There was something off about the wounds.
All three bodies (or, more particularly, parts of the bodies) had been severely decomposed. Each had spent a few weeks in the Thames either free floating, or in the open gym bag. The first body discovered (according to the report) had been a nearly full decomposed torso and pelvis that had washed up on the shore of the Thames, while the other parts of two separate bodies had shown up in a duffle bag found miles away. No other remains from any of the bodies had been found, and all had been in the water for at least a few weeks. The gym bag had provided some shelter and protection to the second remains found, but as the gym bag had been left mostly open, the creatures living in the Thames had nearly picked the victims' flesh clean with the exception of a part that had been wrapped in a sort of… cling film or plastic wrap? She couldn't tell from the photo.
While generally an extremely interesting case, there were a few details that peaked Kylie's interest as she looked at the file.
There were at least three victims. It was apparent based on the remaining flesh and bone markers that she could make out from the photographs. Each of the torsos (obviously), and the leg had come from three separate victims.
The little flesh that had been protected by the plastic was decomposed, but it had an almost reddish hue. While this could be due to the microbial species that lived in the Thames (she would have to investigate that further), it did look almost as if the remains had been soaked in a chemical of some variety prior to disposal or death.
Part of a tattoo was still visible on the decomposing flesh of the dismembered leg. One that almost looked as if two flags were crossing? She couldn't be sure until she got in front of the leg, but it was either a very poorly professionally done or a prison tattoo… one that had greatly faded over time.
She wasn't completely sure from just the photos, but looking at the torsos, it seemed as if the torsos had been fully castrated. This wasn't totally confirmed, but from the photos the wounds and marks that she could see in the bone surrounding the gentiles on the remains looked too clean. This wasn't the only part though, the neck looked as if it were too clean as well. One photo displayed what she thought was signs of dismemberment while still alive. Once more, she couldn't be sure unless she saw the body under a microscope.
Kylie let out a breath as she ran a hand through her hair, tossing down the photos with a slight exasperation.
What was she doing? It was nearly 7 AM. She had been up the entire night examining the casefile. Time had not even been a factor. She didn't even feel tired. She felt giddy…elated even, for the first time in months. She was fighting every bone in her body not to run upstairs to the dick's flat to tell him her findings.
That's the last thing she wanted to do though…
She had promised herself she was done with cases. She needed to live a quiet life. Quiet would do her some good.
Would it though? You have the tools to identify these victims and put a killer behind bars.
Kylie closed her eyes and groaned at herself.
Couldn't her brain give her an easy way out for once?
She rubbed her eyes and suppressed a yawn.
She couldn't go upstairs. She would have to admit defeat to that asshat… and that was something she refused to do. He would not beat her. He could not win. He already had found out too much about her. She had to disprove him on the one thing she had control over in her life now… her work.
So, you are going to potentially let a killer walk? Just to prove a man wrong?
Kylie shoved the photos in front of her away, as if they were the ones that were annoying her rather than her subconscious.
She opened her eyes to look down at the now exposed folder, seeing one name stare back at her.
Detective Inspector Gregory Lestrade
Scotland Yard
Kylie picked up the folder, staring at it for a moment before a grin split out over her face.
Maybe she could still help catch a killer…
)(*#$(& (#* )(#
Greg Lestrade sat in his office at New Scotland Yard running a hand over his face in distress. His team was getting nowhere fast with this new case. The bodies had been in the Thames far too long for Anderson to find anything. Their coroner had thrown up his hands at the remains, saying they were too decomposed and damaged to get a real read on them. After multiple canvases, no one had reported seeing anything, let alone anything suspicious. He had even broken so far down as to giving a copy of the casefile to Sherlock.
The only promising thing was that the coroner had sent photos of the evidence to the nearest forensic anthropologist, who was at a University in France. The guy had had the evidence a few days now and wasn't responding to anything. This wasn't the first time they had dealt with this prick. He took his time and then all the credit despite the fact they usually had caught the killer by the time he got around to giving them their findings.
The trail was going cold fast, and the superiors were breathing down his neck. He had to catch a break on this soon, or he and the rest of his team would be quickly replaced.
A knock on his office door brought him out of his thoughts. Donovan was leaning into his office, a pained smile on her face.
"Boss, someone here who wants to see you. Says it's about the Torso murders."
Lestrade sat up a little straighter, "Did they see something?"
Donovan shrugged, "Don't know. She said she will only talk to you."
"Send her in," Lestrade told his sergeant.
Donovan raised her eyebrow before nodding and walking out of the room. Lestrade felt himself frantically straightening the piles of casefiles on his desk, fishing around for his notepad as he watched Donovan walk towards him with a tall auburn-haired woman trailing behind her. The woman looked uncomfortable and self-conscious but was desperately trying to put on a façade of confidence and self-assurance.
Greg stood as Donovan pointed towards his office. The woman gave her a small smile of thanks before she approached his office.
"Detective Inspector Lestrade?" the woman asked.
American?
"Yes," Lestrade said with a smile as he stood up and offered his hand, "And you are?"
The woman smiled at him and shook his hand firmly, "Kylie Gibbs."
"Lovely to meet you Ms. Gibbs," Lestrade said as he sat down and motioned for her to take the seat across from him, "My Sergeant said you had seen something to do with an ongoing investigation?"
"Oh, yes," Kylie said as she picked up her bag and began fishing around in it, "This might seem weird, I don't know if you guys have already seen this…."
Lestrade froze as he saw her pull out a familiar file packed with photos. She opened it on her lap and began fishing for a few specific photos.
"Where did you get that?" Lestrade asked harshly.
The superiors would have his head if they knew some woman had a police file…
Kylie looked up at him in mild surprise, before looking back down at the file.
"Oh… yeah… I should probably explain."
"Damn, right," Lestrade said, "I can have you arrested for stealing police property."
"Stolen?" Kylie asked him, staring at him as if he had to be joking, "This isn't stolen, this is an official copy. How else would there be the seal imprinted on the documents? Someone stole stationary as well?"
Lestrade just stared at her.
"Look," Kylie told him as she ran a hand through her hair and shook her head in slight annoyance, "some asshole gave me the file…"
"Wait," Lestrade said holding up his hand and leaning on the desk, trying to wrap his head around what the woman had just said, "Someone gave you this file? To examine?"
"Yeah," Kylie replied, "Guy fancies himself a detective and he is a dick…"
Lestrade shut his eyes in annoyance and panic.
"Sherlock Holmes?"
Kylie paused and straightened, staring at him as he came up with a name quickly, "Yeah, I think that's his name anyway. You know him?"
"Sherlock Holmes gave you this file?" Lestrade clarified in near disbelief.
The woman looked at him strangely, "Yes. Is that so strange? Seems like he would recruit anyone to his little fake detective agency."
"Yes," Lestrade told her as he leaned back in his chair, completely dumbstruck by this conversation, "it is extremely strange he would give you a file I gave him…"
"So you did give it to him?" the woman asked.
"Yes, I did," Lestrade said, semi-frustrated at the moment, "And he really doesn't 'recruit' as you say. Lets just say he's not the biggest fan of humanity."
The woman laughed to herself.
"So its not just me hes a dick to. Good to know."
"No offense," Lestrade said slowly after a moment, "but why would Sherlock give you this file?"
The woman gave him a tight-lipped smile.
"I made the mistake of becoming his neighbor," she told him simply.
Lestrade raised an eyebrow at her.
"John is a doctor. That is why he works with him. What are you?" Lestrade pressed, "Sherlock is a dick, I'll give you that. But he isn't stupid."
Kylie half scoffed, half laughed at the man before she looked away and down at the file.
"I used to be a forensic anthropologist. I specialized in criminal cases. He found out and has been trying to recruit me to his little fake agency ever since."
Lestrade felt his body go numb. This was too good to be true.
"I'm sorry," Lestrade said as he thought he may have misheard her, "Did you say you were a forensic anthropologist?"
"Uh, yeah," Kylie told him nervously as she brushed her hair behind her ear, "I was anyway."
"Was?" Lestrade inquired.
"Uh, yeah in the States. I just moved here."
"You work with the police in the States?" Lestrade asked her.
She looked at him oddly, slightly taken aback by the question.
"Yes, I worked exclusively for the FBI. I was an agent as well."
Lestrade remained silent as he tried to read the woman in front of him. A saying echoing through his head as he did.
When its too good to be true, it probably is…
There was no way an anthropologist would just waltz into his office with a real lead. This had to be some nutter looking to get a role in a case so she could later talk about it on her true crime podcast.
… that or a journalist looking for a scoop.
"Look," Kylie said as she looked back up at Lestrade, "I am not here for a job. You may even have an Anthropologist on staff. I just was looking at the file and saw something in the bone I thought would be pertinent to the case."
"I appreciate you coming by, Ms. Gibbs," Lestrade told her, "But we have a PhD anthropologist we have just sent the file to in France who specialized in water decomposition…"
"Gerard DuPont?" Kylie scoffed, nearly rolling her eyes, "Let me guess, he takes 3 weeks to get back to you as he can't take time off from skiing to work a case let alone get his hands dirty?"
Lestrade looked at her, taken aback.
How in the hell could she have known that?
"You know him?" he asked.
"Unfortunately," Kylie muttered, "We did our postdocs under the same professor. DuPont was always full of himself, but I think its gotten worse over the years."
"You are a PhD?"
"Yes," Kylie said as if it were obvious.
Lestrade paused for a moment, looking at the woman. It was a little too convenient that an anthropologist just wandered into his office with a case file that he was currently stuck on with no leads and no hope for a lead.
"You said you thought you found something?" Lestrade asked against his better judgement.
"Yeah," Kylie said as she pulled out a few photos, showing them to him.
"You see these striations on the bone if you look really closely?" she asked him, "They are regular, made by a circular saw or blade. One that moves very fast." She pulled forward the photos of the pelvic regions of the torsos, "Same with these. The gentiles appear to have been cut off both men with a similar blade."
"Men?" Lestrade asked her.
"All three victims are male," Kylie told him, "Yes. And all likely to be Caucasian, but I can't tell you that for certain unless I get a skull."
Lestrade just stared at her, but she didn't notice, she was already pulling out another photo.
"What I think is important though, is that I think these men may have been decapitated while they were still alive, which speaks to the sadistic nature of the killer. You see how these striations are slightly rounded in this photo. It could indicate that there was still blood flow while the striations were being made, but I couldn't say for sure unless other tests were run. You should have your anthropologist or DuPont look at a bone sample under a microscope to ensure osteocyte death."
"Wait, wait, wait," Lestrade said as he looked up at her, "You are telling me that this guy decapitated the victims while they were alive with a circular saw."
"I don't know. You would have to get an expert to look at the bone under a microscope, but it may say that. The gentiles as well… but that's a bigger if as that is mostly flesh as opposed to bone."
Lestrade stared at the woman. This was too good to be true.
"Also, I noticed a reddish hue on the remaining flesh of one of the victims," she said as she pulled out a photo of the leg, "Do you commonly see that in victims found in the water around here?"
"No," Lestrade said slowly, wondering where she was going with this.
"Hm," the woman muttered to herself, "Than it must be chemical as opposed to microbial…"
"Chemical?" Lestrade asked.
"Uh, yeah," Kylie told him, "Flesh isn't my wheelhouse, but that redness could be due to the microbial and bacterial species that live in the Thames, but since you said you do not commonly see it in floaters, its more likely to be chemical burn of some variety either perimortem or shortly postmortem before they were dumped. You should have your coroner test the remaining flesh."
Lestrade stared at her, completely flabbergasted by the woman. This could not be real. A real expert could not just be dropped into his lap… by Sherlock none the less, at the time when he most needed an expert to give him a lead. Sherlock didn't ask for help, yet he had asked for her opinion on a case? He was a clever but arrogant git… but why was her story sounding true?
"Could you run these tests right now?" he found himself asking before he could decide otherwise.
It was the woman's turn to stare at him with shock.
"Uh, yeah… if I had the right material," Kylie told him nervously, "but like I said, I am not here for a job. Your staff can do it…"
"My people are at a dead end," Lestrade admitted to her, "While I think you may be too good to be true, what you are telling me could lead to a break in the case and I'm at a dead end."
She just looked at him.
"Would you come look at the bodies?" he asked her.
She raised an eyebrow at him, "I'm not a police officer here…"
"You state you are an expert in the field. I need a lead, and you might be able to give it to me. I'm willing to take that risk if I can verify you."
Kylie gave him a tight-lipped smile, "Like I said, your staff can do it. I am not looking to get a job or even back into the field. I just felt that you needed to know."
She got up to leave, causing Lestrade to stare at her again in disbelief.
"You're just going to leave?" he asked her.
She turned around and looked at him, smiling shortly.
"I need to stay out of the life I had once been in. I moved to Britain to get out of that and to find a quiet job with a quiet life. If I give into the want to solve this case, it will lead to the desire to keep doing it. I just felt that you needed to know these things if you hadn't already seen them. Your experts can follow them."
"You already said DuPont is an arrogant idiot and my people didn't find any of this."
"I never said DuPont was an idiot. He isn't. He's just egocentric and more arrogant than that Sherlock bloke. He will take a while, but his findings will likely be congruent to mine. Your coroner can test the flesh if he already hasn't."
"I need answers now," Lestrade told her, desperately.
The woman looked at the ground, smiling painfully before looking back up at him.
"I am not the one who is going to be able to give them to you. I am not associated with FBI any longer or a university. You will have a stronger case in court if you get your experts to run the tests."
Lestrade leaned back in his chair for a moment, taking in the woman.
"Are you looking for a position with the Yard or a University here?" he asked her.
She smiled, much more genuinely this time.
"No," she told him firmly, "I am looking for a quiet life. I have had my fill of murder and mayhem, unfortunately."
"If what you tell me is true," Lestrade told her, "That would be a waste."
The woman gave him another pained smile as she picked up her purse and made to leave the room.
"Kylie, was it?" Lestrade asked as he stood from his chair, causing her to look at him.
"Yeah," she nodded. "Kylie Gibbs."
Lestrade nodded, "We will be in touch, Kylie Gibbs."
Kylie smiled slightly as she turned around again, looking back at the DI.
"Good luck on your case Inspector. I hope you catch the son of a bitch."
And with that, the woman left his office and Yard as quickly as she could.
Lestrade sat down at his desk, eyeing the copy of the casefile that lay on the other side of his desk.
… if it was too good to be true, it likely wasn't.
… however, in this case? He had a hunch this girl was real.
Like I said, not too exciting, but setting up what is to come.
Review? Please?