AN:I make reference to CD's "personal" car in this. For clarification
& visualization, it's a vintage Porsche 356 Speedster, black. With her
former profession, I consider it an important detail. :o) As for what
it looks like, think Kelly McGilllis's car in "Top Gun." Same thing.
**********************************************************************
Three days later
2014 local
Outside the Fredericksburg City Morgue
Fredericksburg, VA
Mercedes rubbed her eyes wearily as she left the morgue. It was
really turning out to be banner month. It wasn't every day she got
reamed by both her boss and a U S Navy admiral, yanked off a case,
reassigned to collection, essentially deep-sixed her career, and ruined
what little family bonds she had. Oh, yeah....don't forget that
little matter of everyone thinking you've gone off the deep end, the
annoying little voice in her head reminded her.
The break with Harm hurt the worst, though. For the first time
in years, she had felt like she wasn't completely alone. Like maybe,
just maybe, she might have an ally in this insane world. How wrong
could she have been? When it mattered, he left her out to dry. It was
clear that just like the others; he thought that she had thrown away a
case because of her ego. But dammit, there was just something about
this case....
As she approached her car, she consoled herself with the
possibility that the murders were likely over, and that soon this would
all go away. For everyone else, anyway. They never went away for
her. But like his London counterpart so long ago, the Virginia ripper
had his six victims. And hopefully, also like London, the ripper would
now disappear.
CD put the evidence on the passenger seat of the vintage Porsche
Speedster, then went around the front to the driver's side. But as she
opened the door to climb in, she noticed an envelope on the seat.
Puzzled, she picked it up and opened it. Inside was a folded piece of
notebook paper. A frown darkened her brow as she opened the paper and
began to read.
*****
"My apologies, Miss Rabb, for the familiarity, but I feel as if
I know you, since we have studied each other's work so closely. And
since I have enjoyed it so, I wish it to continue. Thus I give you the
following hint. Though I have my six, just like "saucy Jacky", some say
he had two more outings. I feel I shall as well. And how polite of
you, to provide with an appropriate object for my sport."
*****
Mother of God. The ripper was going to strike again, and this
time, if she interpreted the message right, she knew the victim. She
stuffed the note under the box on the seat, then leaned into the car
and dug behind the seat, looking for the books she had kept with her
for research on the case. Finding the one she wanted, she flipped to
the center insert of photos. There they were: Martha Tabram, Polly
Nichols, Annie Chapman, Liz Stride, Kate Eddowes, and the hideously
butchered Mary Kelly, spread out over the first three pages. She
turned the page again, and the blood froze in her veins. There were
two more postmortem photographs, two more potential London Ripper
victims. How could she have forgotten?
She stared at the page. The previous victims had shared last
names with the London victims. And on the page in front of her,
beneath the two pictures, were the names Frances Coles and Alice
McKenzie.
McKenzie.....as in Lt. Col. Sarah Mackenzie.
TBC.....
& visualization, it's a vintage Porsche 356 Speedster, black. With her
former profession, I consider it an important detail. :o) As for what
it looks like, think Kelly McGilllis's car in "Top Gun." Same thing.
**********************************************************************
Three days later
2014 local
Outside the Fredericksburg City Morgue
Fredericksburg, VA
Mercedes rubbed her eyes wearily as she left the morgue. It was
really turning out to be banner month. It wasn't every day she got
reamed by both her boss and a U S Navy admiral, yanked off a case,
reassigned to collection, essentially deep-sixed her career, and ruined
what little family bonds she had. Oh, yeah....don't forget that
little matter of everyone thinking you've gone off the deep end, the
annoying little voice in her head reminded her.
The break with Harm hurt the worst, though. For the first time
in years, she had felt like she wasn't completely alone. Like maybe,
just maybe, she might have an ally in this insane world. How wrong
could she have been? When it mattered, he left her out to dry. It was
clear that just like the others; he thought that she had thrown away a
case because of her ego. But dammit, there was just something about
this case....
As she approached her car, she consoled herself with the
possibility that the murders were likely over, and that soon this would
all go away. For everyone else, anyway. They never went away for
her. But like his London counterpart so long ago, the Virginia ripper
had his six victims. And hopefully, also like London, the ripper would
now disappear.
CD put the evidence on the passenger seat of the vintage Porsche
Speedster, then went around the front to the driver's side. But as she
opened the door to climb in, she noticed an envelope on the seat.
Puzzled, she picked it up and opened it. Inside was a folded piece of
notebook paper. A frown darkened her brow as she opened the paper and
began to read.
*****
"My apologies, Miss Rabb, for the familiarity, but I feel as if
I know you, since we have studied each other's work so closely. And
since I have enjoyed it so, I wish it to continue. Thus I give you the
following hint. Though I have my six, just like "saucy Jacky", some say
he had two more outings. I feel I shall as well. And how polite of
you, to provide with an appropriate object for my sport."
*****
Mother of God. The ripper was going to strike again, and this
time, if she interpreted the message right, she knew the victim. She
stuffed the note under the box on the seat, then leaned into the car
and dug behind the seat, looking for the books she had kept with her
for research on the case. Finding the one she wanted, she flipped to
the center insert of photos. There they were: Martha Tabram, Polly
Nichols, Annie Chapman, Liz Stride, Kate Eddowes, and the hideously
butchered Mary Kelly, spread out over the first three pages. She
turned the page again, and the blood froze in her veins. There were
two more postmortem photographs, two more potential London Ripper
victims. How could she have forgotten?
She stared at the page. The previous victims had shared last
names with the London victims. And on the page in front of her,
beneath the two pictures, were the names Frances Coles and Alice
McKenzie.
McKenzie.....as in Lt. Col. Sarah Mackenzie.
TBC.....