Chapter Twelve
Charlie felt her knees buckle beneath her. Somehow, she managed to reach out to steady herself against the cold clammy wall, before the inevitable happened and she emptied the contents of her stomach. The unmistakable stench of vomit coupled with the foul taste in her mouth was enough to turn her stomach all over again.
Alone and away from prying eyes, Charlie felt powerless as the tears began to fall, stinging her already tired and raw red eyes. Although she'd long since lost count of the number of dead bodies she'd had to cast her eyes upon during her time in the force, nothing could quite prepare her for having to witness the bloodied and battered lifeless body of a murdered former girlfriend.
Of course, staring death in the face was an inevitable part of the job Charlie adored. But it was an inevitable part of the job that she had never quite been able to get used to. She had learned a long time ago that life and death were two sides of the same coin, but even after eight years in the job, at every single murder scene, Charlie felt an overwhelming sense that she was witnessing the aftermath of death for the very first time; reliving the waking nightmare over and over again. Sometimes, on the really bad days, she wondered what had ever possessed her to become a cop in the first place. On the really bad days, trying to make her father proud by following in his footsteps seemed like the worse idea in the world. Today was just such a day.
Kristen. Dead. Murdered. Charlie turned the words individually over and over again in her head. Regardless of the cold hard evidence of her former girlfriend's lifeless and bloodied body witnessed by her own two eyes, it still didn't seem real somehow. Kristen's skull had been bashed in with such brute force; so much so that part of her skull could be seen protruding beneath her striking black hair. Most of her face was caked in dried blood, and her hair had been dyed with the same shade of red. Blood red wasn't a colour that suited her. At least not in death.
It was with similar weary eyes that Constable Georgina Watson watched as Kristen's body was encased in a plastic body bag and carried away. Although fiercely determined to keep her composure, she felt completely vulnerable at the emotions flooding over her. Like Charlie, Watson was struggling with the knowledge that the victim - god knows how she hated that word - wasn't the usual nameless stranger, but instead someone they were both familiar with. While Watson had never particularly taken to her friend's ex, she knew damn well that there was nothing deserving about the tragic and brutal end Kristen had so obviously met.
The crime scene was a hive of activity, with police officers and a forensics team littering the murder site; each one being careful not to contaminate what little evidence hopefully remained following the heinous act. It was just after five in the morning and already a small crowd had gathered to morbidly survey the proceedings.
Charlie tucked an errant strand of her dark brown hair behind her right ear and sighed. As she made her way over towards Watson, a young female constable held up the tape surrounding the crime scene to let her superior through. Approaching Watson, their eyes met in a mutual understanding of shock and grief. Both women looked shattered and, not for the first time, both felt so much older than their years. Trying to function in a world where the living trod such a very fine line with the world of the dead was known for having that effect. It was probably why most police officers suffered burn out long before retirement age.
"Hey," Watson said, acknowledging her friend. She could tell from Charlie's blood shot eyes that she'd obviously been crying. Despite their acrimonious split, Charlie's heart wasn't made of stone. Her grief for Kristen was palatable.
"Hey," Charlie replied in a monotone voice.
"Charlie?"
She turned around sharply, and was confronted by Constable Angelo Rosetta. As he gently touched her arm sympathetically, it swiftly brought her back to reality; back into the land of the living.
"I'm so sorry about Kristen, Charlie. It goes without saying she didn't deserve this," he said, with a careful and considerate tenderness that betrayed his macho exterior.
Charlie smiled, touched by her friend's kindness and warmth. Having worked together for almost three years, Charlie considered Angelo to be one of her closest and most loyal friends. When they had first met, he had tried to win her over with his boyish good looks and considerable charm. Even the revelation that she played for the other team hadn't stopped Angelo from expressing his obvious attraction for his friend and colleague. But in time Charlie had managed to overlook his persistent affection, allowing them to eventually forge the most solid of friendships.
"What have you got for me?" Charlie inquired, wearily.
"Are you sure you want to do this, Charlie? Maybe you should go home and get some rest, we..."
"I'm fine," she said somewhat abruptly, cutting Angelo off in mid sentence.
A worried Angelo looked at Watson, who simply nodded in acknowledgement, silently granting him permission to continue.
"Okay...well we obviously need to wait for the pathologist's report to be sure, but it doesn't appear to be a sexually motivated attack. There's no sign that she's been... been raped. And the cause of death..."
"Her head has been bashed in almost beyond recognition, Angelo. I think it's safe to assume I know what the cause of death is," Charlie snapped.
"Sorry," he said, apologetically.
"What else?"
"Nothing. At the moment we've got no forensic evidence, no murder weapon and no witnesses. Obviously, we can't overlook the possible link between Kristen's murder and the recent spate of attacks in the area. And we know Kristen had visited Fuel on numerous occasions."
Charlie sighed. The thought that Kristen could possibly be another victim of the perpetrator the press had crudely dubbed the "gay basher" was disturbing. Running a hand through her hair in frustration, she had a feeling it was obviously going to be a long and emotionally exhausting day.
"Has anyone informed the family yet?" Charlie suddenly thought to inquire, looking from Angelo to Watson.
"No, not yet Charlie. I thought," said Watson, glancing over at Angelo. "We thought maybe you might, er, want to do that."
Flashback... June 2007
"Miss Buckton?"
"Charlie, please."
"Okay, Charlie. I'm the real estate agent, Kristen Evans."
"Good to meet you, Kristen. Thanks for taking the time to show me around at such short notice."
"Not at all, Charlie. It's my pleasure."
As we shook hands, we both smiled at each other broadly. I remember that initial meeting as if it were only yesterday. After several years of renting, I was finally looking to do the "grown up" thing and get my foot onto the property ladder. I had my heart set on a trendy one bedroom unit close to the city's CBD and, after several months of viewing a mind numbing amount of apartments, I had eventually stumbled across a place I was willing to sell my soul for.
As she proceeded to show me around the apartment, I continued to study her out of the corner of my eye. Kristen was undeniably attractive. I noticed the well groomed long raven black hair. The professionally manicured nails. The flawless makeup. And the fit toned body encased in a clearly expensive designer suit. Nothing about her was understated. And inexplicably, I was drawn to her like a moth to a flame.
"I don't make a habit of this... but would you like to have dinner with me sometime... say this Thursday? I know this great little Thai restaurant. Perhaps we could celebrate your new home."
"You seem very sure that I'm interested enough to make an offer."
"I can tell that you're interested, Charlie. I'm good at reading body language."
"Charlie? Charlie?"
"What? Sorry."
"We lost you there for a moment. Are you okay?" Watson looked at Charlie, her eyes betraying her obvious concern.
"Just reliving a memory, George. Just reliving a memory."
Reaching into her trouser pocket to pull out her cell phone, Charlie began punching numbers into the keypad. But she stopped almost as soon as she started, quickly stuffing the phone back into her pocket.
"I can't do this over the phone. They deserve better. I need to do this in person," Charlie said, making her way over to her patrol car.
TBC