Peccatum in Carne: Sins of the Flesh (The Three Sins of Mallory Moore Book 1)

by Coco Mingolelli

  Pointing to the second photo that showed bloody fingerprints on the handle of a door, Eve cleared her throat. "Mia, badly injured and losing a substantial amount of blood at this point, managed to walk across the landing to her daughter Lilith's room. Her attacker followed to deliver the final slash to her neck, not too long after.”

  As the pathologist moved onto the third photo, she noticed Detective Constable Stella Stewart had tears in her eyes. Stella was always the emotional sort, but it was sometimes a good characteristic to have in the CCU – allowing a constable to never give up on justice.

  Maintaining her professionalism, Hart focused back on the third photo. A fourteen-year-old stared at the camera, her green eyes empty.

  DC Stewart's lip quivered once as Eve stuck another, more detailed photo on the board next to the close up. Heavy bruising could be seen on the girl’s chest, wrists and ankles.

  "Lilith Mallory LaFey, ladies and gentlemen,” Dr. Hart announced. “Remember this name.”

  Ross stared, his mouth set in a grim line. He would have known that woman’s eyes anywhere, even without the spark of life. He continued to look into those eyes; it felt wrong to stare anywhere else on the photo.

  Eve began listing the damage. "Her injuries include but were not limited to: a broken right wrist, two fractured posterior ribs, a bruised sternum, and a thoracic burst fracture on vertebrae T12."

  His expression horrified, Ross finally looked away. "Who in Christ's name does that to a fourteen year old?!" he exclaimed, stunned beyond belief that the person in question still walked the Earth.

  "The bruising to her sternum and the thoracic fracture were likely caused when they threw her, or held her down," Dr. Hart reminded the team gently. “An interview done directly afterwards revealed that she fought back viciously, but subsequent interviews gave us nothing more to go on.”

  At the mention of more than one interview, Phil Ross turned to the back of his file. Sliding his glasses on and clearing his throat, he began to scan the page. “Buh-buh-buh, ahh, here we go: a transcript of interview three - dated November 15th, of ’98. Detective yammers on for a good while about the crime scene, Lilith becomes more withdrawn. What an idiot,” he bit back a curse for the prior DS on the case. “He asks, ‘Did you see the men who attacked you?’ and she responds, ‘I don’t know.’ Then the line of questioning goes into specifics… ‘Did you see his eyes? How about his hair?’ She always answers ‘I don’t remember,’ or ‘I don’t know.’”

  The team was silent for a moment, digesting the information. "They violated her, Eve?" Margaret asked.

  Stella Stewart got up and left the room, tears running down her cheeks.

  Rising quickly, Dr. Sheehan followed the constable. "I'll see if she's all right," she announced to the assembled group, before taking her leave.

  "Well, that was heavy," a Detective Inspector named John Reid acknowledged. His dark brown eyes were dry, and his demeanor blasé. He’d long grown used to these cases, but the department kept him on for his concentrated drive and focus during investigation.

  DS Ross shifted in his chair and glared at DI Reid before looking back at the whiteboard. The woman’s cool behavior from the previous interview made sense to him now. "No wonder she changed her name," he alleged. "It’s probably the only thing that stopped her from going stark raving mad."

  DI Reid picked up the train of thought. "Okay, so we have the break in at the house. Mother and Father are killed. Mallory, birth name Lilith is assaulted, but lives. What happened to her then?”

  "That we don't know, precisely," Margaret chimed in, just as she re-entered the room. "We’ve subpoenaed the records from the Department for Children, Schools and Families, but you know how long the bureaucratic red tape can take to unravel. Is it possible she went abroad to change her identity in 2004? That still leaves a number of years empty.”

  Ross turned to DI John Reid once more. "Go and find out what happened to Lilith LaFey after the murders without filing another subpoena, would you?"

  John nodded and left, happy to have something to focus on other than the images on the whiteboard.

  Brushing past him, Ross pointed to a photo of a cold, expressionless man on the upper right hand side of the whiteboard. "Steven Rose," he identified, taking a marker from Hart and drawing a black line from the photo to an earlier photo of James La Fey and Mia Christopoulos.

  "We've discovered Steven fell out of favour with James and Mia due to their moral objections on his trading of conflict diamonds. They used to be friendly," Ross continued, shrugging a bit as if something didn’t quite add up. The link was there, but the murders weren't overly personal, with the exception of Lilith's treatment.

  “He was present at Lilith’s birthday party, days before the murder – a guest of his parents, whom were friends with Paul Christopoulos and Evelyn Moore, Lilith’s grandparents. It was one big happy rich shindig, but he wasn’t on the formal guest list. That might be how he fell through the cracks of the initial investigation. We have evidence that he was there, though,” he rambled, trying to puzzle it out.

  Margaret frowned, her expression troubled. "Do we know how long Mallory Moore, aka Lilith LaFey, has been involved with his daughter?”

  Detective Constable Stewart spoke up, having returned to the room as quiet as a mouse. "John and I spoke to Miss Moore's colleagues at St. Augusta's. We can't be certain as the Diocese wouldn't let us interview the staff…"

  "Get to the point, Stella," Ross muttered wearily.

  Giving Phil Ross a look of reproach, the Detective resumed what she'd been saying. "They wouldn't let us speak to any of Miss Moore's colleagues, but some of the remaining students spoke to us discreetly. They allege that Miss Moore took Dawn Rose into her bed following a party."

  "Took her to bed … following a party?” Ross repeated, flabbergasted. "What kind of bloody school is it?!”

  Smiling slightly, Dr. Hart joked a bit at Ross’s expense. “It’s an all-girls’ Catholic boarding school, Phil. Repressed sexuality and short, plaid skirts,” she chuckled, and excused herself back to the lab.

  "So," Margaret took over the conversation. "We have this seduction taking place near the end of term…"

  DC Stewart waved her hand to indicate that she wasn’t finished, and interrupted Margaret. "The girls at the school claim that Dawn Rose only came back to the school for her exams, living with her teacher Miss Moore in the meantime. That wasn't all, though. Rumour has it that Miss Rose was involved with another teacher, as well."

  Shaking his head, Ross listened but said nothing. His ego was still smarting from Dr. Hart’s witticism.

  "Do we have a name?" Margaret inquired, her mind working to create a deeper profile of Mallory Moore’s newest actions, and for Dawn Rose. She would need to meet with the young woman soon.

  Stella Stewart checked her notes before speaking. "Miss Elisabeth Sørensen, Physical Education and Physical/Anatomical Sciences teacher," she replied.

  "Being seduced by her teacher, having it off with another teacher, and hooking up with the first one…" Ross finally spoke his mind, muttering out loud. “Christ.”

  _____________________________________

  Across town in the neighborhood of West Lane, Claudia shifted slightly in Elisabeth's arms as they watched Positively Fab on DVD. They had returned just the day before from Oslo, jet lagged beyond belief. The deep leather couch in Claudia’s apartment had looked like the perfect nest, and so they’d set up camp.

  Elisabeth smiled softly as Claudia laughed so hard she shook underneath her embrace. The antics onscreen always got a rise out of her, and it was a nice change from being stressed about her work at the West Lane Hospital and ambulance corps.

  Her icy-blue eyes fell upon the delicate diamond solitaire ring on her fiancée’s left hand, which was resting on Elisabeth's knee. "I love you," she murmured, kissing at the shell of Claudia's ear.

  Wriggling around until she was facing Elisabeth, Claudia leaned forward and studie
d her expression closely.

  "What?” Elisabeth laughed, feeling a bit like a zoo exhibit.

  Without a word, Claudia straddled her lap, and began kissing her slowly, placing her hands on the sofa arm behind them for support.

  Elisabeth cupped her rear, gripping it with strong hands and eliciting intermittent moans from their kissing mouths. She felt her underwear become positively soaked as Claudia began grinding in her lap, her expression hungry. As she sank back into the couch a bit, she grabbed Claudia's hand, and held it to the outside of her jeans.

  Their intoxicated foreplay ramped up considerably as Claudia's face flushed with lust at the action. While capturing Claudia’s mouth into another passionate kiss, Elisabeth could feel her pants being unzipped.

  "Look what you do to me," Elisabeth panted as she took Claudia's hand, and put it down the front of the undone garment, pressing their fingers firmly against her arousal.

  Claudia looked as though she would simply combust at the slickness her fingers found.

  Sliding her hand back up, Elisabeth cupped her love’s face in both hands. "Jeg er din kvinne," she purred.

  Their necking was interrupted by the jarring sound of a phone ringing.

  "Oh, fuck off! Really?!" Claudia swore, glaring in the direction of the noise.

  Craning over the edge of the sofa, Elisabeth spotted "Mallie" flashing on the caller ID.

  Claudia saw it too, wiggling to look over her shoulder. She sighed intolerantly as Elisabeth reached for the phone and answered it without a second thought.

  Their potential lovemaking derailed indefinitely, Claudia rose from Elisabeth’s lap to sit with legs tucked up underneath her at the far end of the sofa. An ever-widening scowl replaced the bliss on her features as she watched anxiety flicker on Elisabeth's beautiful face.

  “What do you mean, you can’t find her?” Elisabeth questioned harshly before backpedaling at the angry, biting tone that responded from the iPhone’s speaker. “Okay, okay. I know, I’m sorry. Would you just calm down for a minute! A train will be along in what, an hour?"

  ‘What drama is it this time?’ Claudia appeared to be contemplating, while rolling her eyes. Three nights ago while they were still in Oslo, it had been Dawn running away. Mallory had called then as well, beyond distraught and howling down the phone to Elisabeth in her hour of need. Here she was again, interrupting their evening.

  Elisabeth knew that Claudia was insecure about Mallory Moore's hold on her: their intimacy, their friendship.

  When she’d first met the two at a bar a year and a half ago, both Mallie and Elisabeth had been three sheets to the wind, but they still finished each others sentences. It had taken Claudia that long to convince Elisabeth into a relationship, but it was a welcome Christmas present when it came.

  After a fifteen minute phone call with her emotional friend, Elisabeth tapped her finger on End Call, and slid to sit on the edge of the sofa. Reaching for Claudia, she was surprised when her bride-to-be remained motionless.

  "What's wrong?” she asked cautiously.

  Claudia laughed before rising off the end of the sofa. "I'm tired of Mallory's shit," she volleyed, trying to mask the hurt in her voice.

  Bristling at the argument she sensed coming, Elisabeth stood as well. "She's my friend, Claudia. She has a lot of stuff going on right now…"

  "She always has stuff going on,” Claudia snapped irritably.

  "Dawn has run away," Elisabeth reasoned. "Mallie is worried sick. A girl Dawn’s age is vulnerable out there alone!"

  "Then maybe she shouldn't be sleeping with an eighteen year old! There, no worries!" came the impassioned retort.

  Elisabeth stalked towards her jealous woman. "What's this really about, Claudia?” she asked irately, tired of dancing around the truth. “I know you’re not one of those judging assholes, spreading their gossip around town like it’s the hottest news.”

  It had been all their ears had heard, from the moment they walked from the airport. People were simply horrible creatures to begin with, let alone in this backwards town.

  "You and... Her," Claudia ultimately gave her resentment up. "She has always come first in your life. It has never been me," she spoke sharply, the pain of her assumption evident.

  Holding her hands up in truce, Elisabeth tried to interject some understanding. "It may seem that way, since she was here before you. I care about her…" she explained carefully.

  "Well, why don't you go fuck her then," Claudia shouted, brimming with anger. She stumbled backwards as Elisabeth’s palm rose, which she thought meant to strike her.

  Elisabeth's pale blue eyes were wounded, and hardened with the offense of the suggestion.

  ‘Oh no, you don’t,’ Claudia thought as she danced backwards, glaring in distrust.

  "Claudia, I'm sorry! Please, I’d never do that! I was asking you to just... stop!” Elisabeth promised, knowing the truth in her heart.

  Claudia paced just beneath the stairwell. "Just look how defensive you get when we talk about her!" she projected, her eyes swimming with tears. "I always say the wrong thing!"

  Slipping the diamond ring off her finger, Claudia dropped it where she stood. "I refuse to be second best to that woman. I'm not marrying you," she sputtered before jogging up the stairs, and into the bedroom.

  Elisabeth massaged her temples for a few moments as she stared forlornly at the ring still on the carpet. She knew that Claudia had trust issues due to an unenviable upbringing, and the constant air of secrecy around Mallie often set those who didn’t know her on edge.

  ‘Perhaps I could have let her in on a bit more… What harm could it have done?’ Elisabeth reflected as she heard a door slam. Her heart warred between loyalty to Mallie, and the love she held for the woman upstairs.

  She sighed, knowing what had to be done. Climbing the stairs, Elisabeth didn't bother with the formality of knocking. Claudia was standing at the window with her back to the door. Her arms were crossed in a clear message.

  "Hear me out, please?" Elisabeth requested. Taking the fact the Englishwoman hadn't thrown her out the window as consent, she took a deep breath and began to explain. “Remember how I told you that Mallie’s an orphan, about how her parents and grandparents are dead? They were murdered, Claudia…”

  Gingerly crossing the threshold to stand a ways into the room, she continued. “I am totally breaking Mallie’s confidence here, do you understand? You mean more to me… The thought of losing you is unbearable. The police have told her they’re reopening the case, and then Dawn up and runs away.”

  “If it were me, and I was all alone, and you’d just run away… Do you understand now?” Elisabeth asked, walking forward to slip her arms around Claudia's waist from behind.

  Turning into the embrace, Claudia cried. "I understand that you are a loyal friend, and now, I feel like an utter arsehole.”

  Elisabeth ran her fingertips over the gentle curve of Claudia's cheeks before kissing her. "Then please, don’t forsake me; marry me."

  Her request caused a fresh stream of tears from Claudia’s stormy blue eyes. She simply clung to Elisabeth, and cried.

  _____________________________________

  Newly manicured fingers spun the safe’s lock, as their owner had seen her father do so many times.

  Steven had always forbade Dawn from ever opening his private safe at their home, but it wasn’t as if he was here to object. She needed money, especially after a clerk at the bank notified Dawn that her AmEx no longer had funds available, just after treating herself to the first beauty appointment she'd had in months. The bastard had shut her account off from wherever he was in Scotland, and today her phone had reported no service.

  Now it was Friday, and Dawn was destitute… and desperate.

  A combination of numbers she’d never thought much on now made her ill. The dial spun - 10… click, click, click. 5… click, click, click. 98… click, click, click. Her trembling hand pulled on the lever, and the lock gave way with an eerie thunk. Da
wn wanted to vomit, her stomach churning with the glaring truth that the digits told.

  Swinging the safe door open, she was relieved to see rather innocuous stacks of money lining the front. Only taking the piles of bills in smaller denominations to avoid suspicion, the money quickly went into her knapsack at the base of the wall.

  At the back of the safe was a dark, pocketed folder. It winked at Dawn - daring her to take it out and read all of the secrets she’d denied and pushed to the back of her mind for a week.

  Her heart pounded with trepidation as she snatched the leatherette file and closed the safe’s door, spinning the dial roughly.

  The living room where she’d spent so many days of her childhood looked cavernous and cold now, like the belly of a beast. Sitting gingerly on the edge of a sofa, she felt faint. Staying in this place for even a moment longer was beginning to be a battle of wills.