An Indecent Death Read Online Free PDF Page A

looked like she’d skipped out. She left behind some cheap furniture, a few odds and ends.” Karl put his notes down and pointed at the Jane Doe photo. “It’s not her. Hair colour is wrong, the age is wrong.”
    “Lori?” Drumm asked.
    Singh frowned and shook her head. “Definitely not her. And the clothing isn’t right for a middle-aged waitress.”
    Wesson said, “Right, we’re all agreed then. Number three MP is Sarah Noonan, age 32, seventh-grade teacher at Elmdale Elementary School. Lives alone. Reported missing by her friend, Lynnette Cranston, who supplied a picture. They were supposed to work out together Saturday morning. The police were notified when Sarah didn’t turn up and didn’t answer phone calls. Her apartment was empty and her car was in the lot; no sign of her , though.”
    Lori Singh had finished her tea and she now got up to dispose of her cup and napkin in the garbage can. “There’s not much doubt, is there?” she said, returning to her chair. “The photos look similar, the timeline is right, and the age is bang on.”
    Drumm leaned back in his chair, sipping the last of his coffee. “What about family, Karl? Is there a husband or parents that can positively identify the victim? Before we get prints from Brandt, I mean. And the prints may not help anyway. I don’t know why a teacher would ever have been fingerprinted.”
    “There’s a separated husband, Nick.. The name is Terry Noonan. Ms Cranston said that he and Sarah have been apart about a year.”
    “Right, start with Mr. Noonan, Karl.” Drumm was standing now. “Do the full check on him and get him to ID his wife.”
    “Sure,” said Karl. “And where will you be?”
    “Me? Lori and I will be heading over to visit Sigrid, and experience the joys of the morgue.”
     
    The Coroner’s place of business was bright light, gleaming metal surfaces and antiseptic smells. It was cold, unfriendly, unwelcoming and nasty. Yes, nasty, thought Lori Singh. That wasn’t too strong a word. Part of her was annoyed with Drumm for making her come to the post-mortem, even though she knew it was good training for her. It was a part of detective work that had been missing from her resume and she knew she needed to be here. She hadn’t been expecting it, though, that was the problem. She thought that was the reason she was feeling queasy, her breakfast beginning to roll around in her stomach like a witch’s brew. If she’d known she was going to spend the morning watching a young woman get cut open, she would have had nothing to eat at all. She could have prepared herself much better.
    “Another first for you?” Sigrid Brandt was sympathetic, head turned, looking at her. She was part-way through the post-mortem, rubber gloves and mask in place. A wisp of grey hair was getting in her eyes, Lori saw. She wanted to reach out and tuck it away for the older woman.
    Lori determined not to show her discomfort. She didn’t trust herself to speak, afraid she might vomit, so she just nodded . Damn it, she wouldn’t throw up, she wouldn’t! And maybe talking to herself helped because she started to feel better. Maybe she didn’t look as cool as Drumm did, standing there so unconcerned with his arms folded, calmly watching the whole show with an air of indifference. But she had things under control and was able to watch the Coroner with detachment.
    The autopsy proceeded in its ritualistic and relentless fashion, with Drumm watching and asking occasional questions and Lori taking notes.
    Sigrid Brandt was thorough and spoke both for the record and their benefit. “Five foot eight, one hundred twenty-five pounds. The usual moles and beauty marks, a small dragon tattoo just above the left nipple.” She went on, “Cause of death was strangulation. The hyoid bone is intact. The ligature mark around her neck is consistent with some type of synthetic material. It wasn’t rope or cord or fishing line or wire or anything like that. More likely a