Tangled

by Uc Amalu, Jr

CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Flashing neon lights of red and blue lit up Mayberry

  Terrace. People from the surrounding houses stood on

  their front lawns watching, their curiosity apparent. Police

  officers walked from family to family, scribbling in their

  notebooks and questioning them about their neighbour

  at number 42. The striking yellow crime scene tape was

  wound tightly from Marla’s driveway right across her front

  yard to the bush land at the end of the cul-de-sac.

  Barricades were set up in front of the bush land and

  beside the house. On the front porch CSU dusted the

  railing, door and windows for prints, their brushes

  whirling gracefully from side to side, transferring the fine,

  black powder onto their surface.

  Inside, another crew from forensics worked the bedroom

  where the broken glass and splinters had originated. The

  crime scene photographer made the rounds of the

  bedroom, clicking away at every piece of possible evidence

  from every possible angle. He documented each

  photograph in a small notebook as he went about his

  rounds. 'The Duke‛, aptly nicknamed due to his

  unfortunate name of Earl Lord, busily gathered pieces of

  the broken window frame and small shards of glass,

  which were strew about the floor below the bedroom

  window. These pieces of evidence were placed into small

  containers and documented according to their nature,

  relevance and position at the crime scene.

  "You get a shot of these here, Matt?" he’d asked the

  photographer before he touched a single splinter or

  shard.

  "Sure did," was always the reply.

  The Duke dusted the remaining window-pane, frame and

  ledge for prints, not that he expected to find any other

  than Marla’s. In this day and age of forensic T.V. shows

  and police procedurals, it was unlikely that any perp left

  prints anymore, but there was always the small chance

  that would-be villain would be so involved with the finer

  details of his or her crime, that they may forget the most

  basic detail of all… gloves! The chances were slim, but it

  was still a shot worth taking. He opened the small metal

  canister of dusting powder, dipped the brush in and

  coated it lightly with the black powder before swirling it

  delicately back and forth over every square inch of

  dustable surface. A number of latents stood out

  immediately around the edge of the pane, where the

  window lock sat.

  "Get a shot of this for me will you, Matt?" he asked.

  Matt stepped in with his camera and clicked away before

  meticulously noting the shots in his book.

  "Thanks," said The Duke and then set about lifting the

  prints from the window with his sticky tape like, latent’s

  cards. Once again each individual card was labeled and

  docu-mented according to where it was found. "Have you

  photographed the outside perimeters yet? Might be an

  idea to get to it as soon as possible before the heavy

  hooves go traipsing through there destroying any value it

  may hold," he instructed Matt.

  Matt shot him a playful wink and replied, "Already done

  my man, already done!"

  The Duke then moved over to the Queen size bed against

  the wall in the centre of the bedroom. He noted the ruffled

  covers and disorganised sheets, two pillows were lying on

  the floor beside the bed and one was crushed up between

  the bed frame and the wall. He in-spected the sheets for

  any visible signs of fluids or hairs. He pulled his tweezers

  and a small orange collection envelope from his case,

  hoping against hope that he may find something other

  than the victims hairs caught within the linen. He

  collected and stored several strands of long

  black hair and sealed them safely in the enve-lope. No

  fluids were visible to the naked eye, but airing on the side

  of caution, the entire set of sheets and the doonah were

  stuffed into evidence bags for closer inspection under the

  lights and microscopes back at the lab.

  He continued on his rounds, using a small vacuum

  cleaner to sweep the floor of any fibres, hairs and other

  possibly case breaking evidence. As per the norm, it was

  all fastidiously documented and sealed within the

  confines of his evidence bags. He turned back to the

  photogra-pher and said, "If you’re ready, we’ll move and

  take a look at the rest of the house, Matt. I think we’re

  pretty much done in here."

  "Ready when you are," Matt replied.

  Outside, a search party, consisting of po-lice officers and

  S.E.S workers, were gathering next to the barricades in

  front of the scrub. The tiny cul-de-sac was a beehive of

  activity. Ben and Jay stood at the head of the crowd,

  waiting for the idle prattle to die down before instructing

  them on what or who they are looking for.

  "Right, a bit of hush eh?" Jay bellowed out above the

  crowd.

  The dull roar of voices lowered and fi-nally ceased

  altogether. Jay had at least thirty sets of eyes all focused

  and set on him.

  "Ok, thanks. Now what we’re looking for here, are any

  signs of our suspected victim Marla Andrews. All signs

  point to an abduction possibly even foul play. Our best

  plan of attack at this stage is to scour the scrub here," he

  turned and pointed into the dense bush land behind him,

  "For clues."

  The crowd of men and women all stared at the thick

  foliage, towering scattering of trees and leaf and twig

  covered ground. They then turned to each other with

  looks of dismay and lower than average hopes.

  "Detective Payne is circulating among you now with a

  photocopied picture of our missing woman."

  Ben walked through the search party and handed out the

  colour photocopy of Marla. Jay continued with his

  speech. "It is not known what she may have been wearing

  at the time of her disappearance so any cloth or other

  items of apparel may be of the highest importance and

  should be treated as evidence. Do we all have our

  whistles?"

  The crowd tooted lightly on the whistles hanging around

  their necks in response.

  "Excellent. It’s now eleven forty-five, let’s meet back here at

  one thirty for updates and refreshments. So please make

  sure your water bottles are topped up and you have hats

  and sunscreen."

  The crowd formed a long thin line and walked towards the

  barricades. "One last thing," cried Jay. "Please make sure

  you are within plain view of the search party on either side

  of you at all times. Ok, that’s it. Thanks and good luck."

  The search party made their way past the barricades and

  entered the canopy of the scrub behind them, their hopes

  were high and their motivation even higher.

  "Do you think they’ll find her?" Ben asked as he watched

  the searchers disappear into the trees.

  Jay nodded his head and replied, "Yeah, I reckon they

  will."
>
  The men walked back towards the side of the house where

  the window had been smashed. The Duke was down on

  one knee collecting whatever splinters and glass shards

  he could find from the grass.

  "I’m all done in the bedroom up there," he nudged his

  nose up towards the window. "I found a small piece of

  torn stocking caught on a sliver of glass out here." He

  held up a clear plastic bag and showed them the piece of

  tan coloured netting.

  Ben took the bag from him and had a closer inspection,

  he handed it to Jay and said, "Stockings. I’d guess that

  Marla wasn’t in bed when she was taken."

  "How you figure that?" Jay asked.

  "You ever known a woman to wear stockings to bed?"

  "There’s a good point!" Jay smiled back.

  "What do you think, Jay? Could this be our killer…

  again?"

  Jay stood up straight, placed his hands on his hips and

  lowered his head. "I’m thinking so, it’d be just too much

  of a coincidence for it to be a totally unrelated abduction.

  Don’t ya think?"

  "Unfortunately, I tend to agree with you, but we can always

  hope eh?" Ben asked, clinging to a ray of hope.

  The bush land behind them suddenly came alive with the

  echoes of yelling and whistles screeching their shrill wails.

  Any hope Ben had been clinging to was lost. A young

  officer came bolting out from between the trees, gasping

  and panting.

  "We’ve found her, about half a kilometer in." He scrambled

  for air and then continued. "She’s dead, oh Christ… I’ve

  never seen…" Before he could finish his sentence, he

  lunged back to the scrub and vomited.

  Ben and Jay exchanged glances and prepared for the

  real nightmare to unfold before them.

  "I’ll go check it out," Ben sighed, "you wait here with Duke

  until I confirm her identity. Okay, Jayy?"

  "You want me to do it?"

  "No thanks, mate. I’ve got it covered." Ben winced and

  walked off into the scrub. The dense foliage gave way to a

  scattering of trees and small ferns as Ben stepped further

  into the bush land. Only the occasional crackling and

  scrunching of leaves and twigs, beneath his feet,

  interrupted his thoughts. Even thought there had been

  no rain recently, the air felt and smelled damp. It

  reminded him more of a rainforest than bush land.

  Muffled voices sounded ahead of him. Ben looked up and

  saw a swarm of search and rescue volunteers all gathered

  around the base of a large Eucalypt tree.

  "Detective," yelled one man, "over here."

  Ben continued his walk towards the crowd, his heart

  thumping wildly in his chest. His legs suddenly felt as

  though they were made of steel and he was unsure if they

  would even carry him any further. They did.

  "Okay, stand aside boys." He gestured with his hand and

  the crowd parted. "Sweet Jesus!" Cried Ben.

  He recalled the Hunt crime scene and it had been no

  picnic. But this… this was horrendous. Marla was semi

  naked; her arms were behind her and tied to a rope that

  had been wrapped around the trunk of the Eucalypt tree.

  Both her legs bore deep cuts and bruises. Once again, the

  abdominal region was horribly mutilated and ripped

  open. Her breasts had been removed, only this time

  instead of taking them; the killer had placed them in

  Marla’s hands and tied them in place. It appeared that this

  act was personal. Tessa Hunt and Kylie-Anne Saunders’

  murders didn’t bear that characteristic.

  ‚That’s Marla Andrews alright,‛ he mumbled to the

  volunteer closest to him. ‚You lot stay here until the

  coroner shows up. You three,‛ Ben pointed to a line of

  men, ‚come with me.‛ He led the men out of the bush

  land and back to the barricades at the end of the cul-de-

  sac. ‚I want you to spread out along here and keep the

  press out! Is that clear?‛

  The men nodded.

  "Right." Said Ben before walking back over to the house.

  "That look on your face tells me it’s Marla for sure," Jay

  said, his tone low.

  "Yes." Was all Ben could manage.

  "Oh hell. You want me to break the news to Rose?" Jay

  asked.

  "Would you? I’m not up to dealing with her right now." He

  turned to The Duke and said, "Might be best if you call

  Seth, we’re going to need him. We’re going to need some

  photo’s in there too."

  "You got it," the Duke replied, pulling out his mobile

  phone.

  Ben looked back at Jay. "Okay, Jayy, you get going to

  Rose’s and I’ll call you later."

  "Oh shit!" cried Jay, walking back to the street in front of

  the house.

  Ben ran up behind him to see what was going on.

  "Looks like she’s saved me a trip," Jay said, pointing to

  the silver Volkswagon convertible that just pulled up out

  the front of Marla’s house.

  Rose leapt from her car before she had even parked it

  properly, leaving the door wide open and the keys still

  dangling from the ignition. "Marla, Marla…"

  Jay cut her off before she was able to en-ter the house;

  his big arms wrapped tightly around her and held her

  from going any further.

  "Where’s Marla?" her eyes widened, pleading with him to

  dull her fears. "Where is she Detective?"

  Jay held her tighter, "I’m so sorry, Rose. I’m so sorry."

  She beat her fists harshly against his broad chest, tears

  welling in her eyes. "No! No, no, no, no."