The rookie cop stood there for a long time while the forensic people did their work. He wanted to cover her body up but he knew that would probably contaminate the evidence.
He smiled at that thought, memories of how the L.A.P.D. fucked up the crime scene of the Simpson/Goldman murders by covering Nicole Simpson’s body with a blanket from the house. He knew that would be a bad thing to do but he felt that it was wrong for the woman’s nude body to be exposed like that with all these people milling around. Guess they’re used to it and so was he. But he still couldn’t help but look at the woman’s body. She was absolutely gorgeous! Everything about her was flawless. You could tell that she worked hard to keep herself in great shape. Her eyes were wide open and they were just as beautiful as the rest of her, even with the death stare sheen over them.
The beautiful body was a stark contrast to blood all on her back and the floor and the kitchen counter made the whole scene look less like a murder scene and more centerfold from Fangoria Magazine or something like that.
And she had this look on her face, like she was smiling, like she was at peace. The rookie cop frowned. He wished that he could have met her, thought to himself that she must have been a pretty cool date. Who would be a fool to kill such a beautiful woman?
Totally lost in the moment, the rookie reached down and started to close the dead woman’s eyes.
“Don’t do that, fool!” a voice from the living room shouted. The head coroner walked in and gently pushed the cop away from the body.
“You’re messing with evidence, rook!” He said, his eyebrows burrowed and his bloodshot eyes staring intently at the cop. “Sorry,” the rookie replied.
“Did you get the i.d. of the victim, here, Officer Vargas?” the coroner asked as he started to dust the clean parts of the counter for fingerprints.
“Yeah,” Vargas said, still looking at the body of the woman.
“Her name is, was, Kembra Joyce Hamilton, age 31, five fo–“, he was stopped in mid sentence by the shaking hand of the coroner, moving his brush across the counter, causing Vargas to stop.
The coroner stopped the gesturing and then began looking over the body, “I can figure out the fucking physical stuff, junior, that’s my job…duh.”
The coroner continued with his dusting.
The rookie looked at the coroner and replied, “She looked so peaceful. Almost like she was smiling. Did she feel much, Dr. Quinlan?”
The coroner turned around and grinned at Vargas. “You sure her name wasn’t Laura Hunt, Officer McPherson?” Quinlan laughed.
“Huh?” Vargas said; he was now looking at Quinlan.
“You’ve never seen the movie, LAURA, kid? About a detective, McPherson was his name, that falls in love with a dead woman, her name was Laura?”
Vargas shrugged his shoulders at stared blankly at Quinlan.
Quinlan stopped laughing and smirked at the young rookie. “Damn kids. Never watch the old movies classics. Youth is wasted on the wrong people.”
He sighed and kneeled down at Kembra’s body, pulled a notebook out of his jacket and started writing slowly.
“To answer your question, No, kid. The first stab wound sliced completely through her spinal cord. Sliced that in two and severed the artery at the same time. That’s why you see the blood splattered everywhere. She bled out pretty fast. She didn’t feel a thing, kid. Was most likely pretty light headed from the loss of blood. Almost a mercy killing.”
“Same M.O. as in the other murders, huh Doc?”
“Yes,” Quinlan kept writing in his notebook, “Woman killed in the midst of having sex, place wiped clean of prints or any other DNA save for the blood of the vic. Scene cleaned prior to the murder, just about anything that could contain evidence stripped from the murder scene after death. Killer makes sure that every murder happens on the weekend when he has time to clean the scene.”
Vargas nodded, slowly.
“Sixth one this year. The One Night Stand Killer strikes again. Probably won’t find any evidence here either. The killer covers his tracks very well. Smart guy,” Vargas says, Quinlan, rising up from over Kembra Joyce Hamilton’s body, shakes his head.
“The only way the sick son of a bitch will be caught is if he wants to be.”
When Fat Janet walked into the break room, I knew what she was going to say. I could see that scared look in her eyes.
“Hey Rodney,” she waved, “guess what?”
Rodney looked up from his newspaper, already knowing what was going to happen next and looked at Fat Janet, “Hey, J. What’s up?”
“You know the latest victim of the One Night Stand Killer? She was on my route? Her name was Kembra, stuck up heffa over at the law firm, the police found her body this morning in her apartment.”
Fat Janet’s hands were moving, wildly, as she explained what she found out.
“When she didn’t come in to work this morning, her co-workers called the police. They said the police said she must have been dead since Saturday…you ever talk to her?”
Rodney shook his head.
“Naw. Naw, J. I saw her there everyday but didn’t speak to her no more than to say hi and bye,” Rodney explained.
“You know I don’t make time for them stuck on themselves hoes. Sorry to hear that though, nobody deserves to go out like that.”
Fat Janet nodded in agreement. Rodney walked over and placed his hand on her shoulder and started to walk out.
“Hey, Rod,” Fat Janet replied, “how was your weekend?”
Rod turned around, “It was pretty good. I went out and hooked up with this sista at the club.”
“Soooo…” Fat Janet replied. Rod smiled.
“Oh so you killed that pussy, huh,” she asked, jokingly.
Rod laughs and says, “Oh, yeah, I guess you can say that.”
Then he starts out the door again, stops turns around, and gives Fat Janet a thumbs up.
“I know that I can never fool you, J.”