WARNING! This is a crime/thriller and has some graphic descriptions.
Jones’ nose flared. He slowly lifted his 6ft 5” body and slipped his notebook and taser into their assigned positions on his body. After slamming on his oversized trench coat which he wore through all the seasons, he waited for Perkins to catch up as they made their way to the lifts.
Their grey saloon pulled up outside the busy main street in the Marlow district, bumping up the pavement and slowing to a stop behind a lit police car. Rubber-neckers had already slowed the traffic to a snail’s pace, backing up the Main street right out of the central business district to the suburbs scattered on the outskirts of town. It would take the forensic team forever to get here if they hadn’t arrived already.
Jones caught sight of Officer Garrett and flagged him down. The policeman walked towards them, his wide body squeezed into a bullet-proof vest. He nodded his head as way of greeting and turned for them to follow him to the glass fronted building with a gold signage on the wall stating Lanyard Medical Centre. Staff littered the pavement, their white outfits and matching tennis shoes out of place in a smart office buildings housing FTSE quoted companies. Some were crying and had obviously seen the scene upstairs. Others stood in groups like lost sheep, a black and white shepherding them closer to interviewing officers.
The foyer and lifts were clean and glossy, reflecting the three men’s images in trifold. Perkins sucked in his protruding belly and shifted his shoulders back, admiring the view of his better posture. Jones and Garrett smirked to themselves but said nothing. The soft ping announced the fifth floor. They were greeted by the crowd of officers and some forensics who had made it to the scene and were processing it. Blood streaked the glass doors and the silver handles were coated with crimson fingerprints. Maybe they would be lucky this time and find a match to the prints.
Pushing past, they made their way to the offices of Dr Robert Puffnel. He stood against the filing cabinet in his secretary’s office, tortoiseshell spectacles drooping off his long straight nose. The pretentious goatie and thin moustache gave him a nutty professor look and Perkins and Jones noted how Garrett seemed to bristle at the site of him. They side-stepped a small woman carrying a rather large coffee mug and took a peek at the doctor’s office. Suspended from the ceiling were chunks of meat, probably cow or goat. Freshly slaughtered as the blood smelt raw and stuck to the backs of their throats as they breathed in the stuffy air. Dried brown blotches coated the desk, drawers and patient’s sofa. White suited figures were trying to trap the blood from the suspended pieces in the body bags but it had already seeped through onto the tartan rug and hardwood floors underneath. The difference between this crime scene and the first was the introduction of a head on a stick stuck straight into the good doctor’s chair. The whiskers of the pig dripped blood, as did the pink nostrils and floppy ears. Its small eyes gazed at the patient’s sofa, as though pondering the next patient’s visit. A fly had found its way into the office and buzzed happily around the abundance of food on display.
Garrett gagged, only slightly. The detectives passed him and examined the room, going through the drawers and filing cabinets with gloved hands. A diary fell out of the bottom of one of the drawers and all eyes followed the book. The tail end of a photograph poked out. Perkins pulled out a pen and gently flicked the book open. The picture exposed a young woman asleep on the same sofa now coated in red. Her blonde hair spread like a fan across the armrest and her inert body was positioned in a flagrantly open position. Jones grunted in disapproval. The doctor had some explaining to do about his patients. The book was left on the floor as they moved to the next area of the room, close to the large floor to ceiling window overlooking the back streets of Marlow and river glittering in the hot afternoon sun beyond Marlow Central Park. The serene view contrasted with the violent slaughter left in the doctor’s office and Perkins took a moment to reflect.