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."