SONATA: Melodies of Murder

By Amelia

“The severed head lay peacefully in a pool of blood on the cold cement slab below, without a trace of the torture and torment it left behind… The haunting visage wore a serene smile and the wide-open brown eyes showed no sign of pain or struggle.”
Sergeant Kate Willings had a mysterious, magnetic quality about her… an infectious smile. Her world changes forever after discovering a severed head during her early-morning rounds. After joining forces with Inspector Lord Pinhorn, more bodies are discovered, their deaths apparently unrelated. Meanwhile, steam sizzles in the air as romance blooms and blossoms.
Were these murders the clever planning of a serial killer, or are the smiling corpses purely coincidental? The clue may lie in one sonata too many.
Be romanced and follow the clues as Sergeant Willings and Inspector Pinhorn are drawn into a grisly game of cat and mouse in this latest installment of Amelia’s Inspector Lord Pinhorn series, Sonata: Melodies of Murder.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Release date: Nov 29, 2019
• ISBN: 9781528986779

Amelia

AMELIA was born in Sydney, NSW, Australia, under the zodiac sign of Taurus the bull, on Anzac Day, the 25th of April, 1955. She grew up in Concord and attended North Strathfield Primary School and then Strathfield Girls High School. Attending Metropolitan Business College, she received her diploma and, later, her certificate IV in small business management before commencing her own business. Jenny was sworn in as a justice of the peace in 1983 and has enjoyed serving the community in a variety of ways ever since. A tasty slice of her mischievous and adventurous childhood was spent on the family farm at Tinonee, on the banks of the Manning River in NSW. She enjoyed the carefree farm life and everything nature had to offer. From a very young age, she enjoyed writing poetry, compositions, and stories straight from the heart. “I believe each person is unique and born with a special gift to offer. There is beauty in everything and everyone; it just needs to be drawn out and exposed for all to enjoy.” AMELIA is a proud Australian! She married and raised her family on the scenic Central Coast of NSW, where she resides today. Her other passions include photography, dancing and the beach. The author’s unique creative and designing flair is utilied both inside and outside the home and evident in her writing. She has lived and worked in both the UK and Canada and they each hold a special place in her heart. AMELIA has also travelled the globe extensively. “I have experienced the many flavours of life. These humble experiences have taught me to appreciate life’s challenges and not take anything for granted… To BELIEVE and have FAITH to turn your dreams into reality. Persistence and determination always give a positive result.” Her motto is “Enjoy life, breathe it, live it! Make each day count.” LIKE on Facebook: JENNY FORD – AUTHOR Instagram: authorjennyford Get to know her at www.jennyford.com.au

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About The Author

AMELIA was born in Sydney, NSW, Australia, under the zodiac sign of Taurus the bull, on Anzac Day, the 25th of April, 1955. She grew up in Concord and attended North Strathfield Primary School and then Strathfield Girls High School. Attending Metropolitan Business College, she received her diploma and, later, her certificate IV in small business management before commencing her own business. Jenny was sworn in as a justice of the peace in 1983 and has enjoyed serving the community in a variety of ways ever since.

A tasty slice of her mischievous and adventurous childhood was spent on the family farm at Tinonee, on the banks of the Manning River in NSW. She enjoyed the carefree farm life and everything nature had to offer. From a very young age, she enjoyed writing poetry, compositions and stories straight from the heart.

I believe each person is unique and born with a special gift to offer. There is beauty in everything and everyone; it just needs to be drawn out and exposed for all to enjoy.

AMELIA is a proud Australian! She married and raised her family on the scenic Central Coast of NSW, where she resides today. Her other passions include photography, dancing and the beach. The author’s unique creative and designing flair is utilised both inside and outside the home and evident in her writing.

She has lived and worked in both the UK and Canada and they each hold a special place in her heart. AMELIA has also travelled the globe extensively. I have experienced the many flavours of life. These humble experiences have taught me to appreciate life’s challenges and not take anything for granted… To BELIEVE and have FAITH to turn your dreams into reality. Persistence and determination always give a positive result. Her motto is Enjoy life, breathe it, live it! Make each day count.

LIKE on Facebook: JENNY FORD – AUTHOR

Instagram: authorjennyford

Get to know her at www.jennyford.com.au

Dedication

I dedicate my second book to my loving parents, Hildred Ellen Begbie and Stanley Reginald Ford. They have nourished my life with unconditional love and taught me values and principles that I live by: Life is not just served up on a plate – you have to select the right menu and carve your way there.

Thank you for my life.

Copyright Information ©

Amelia (2018)

The right of Amelia to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs, and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.

Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

ISBN 9781528976824 (Paperback)

ISBN 9781528986762 (Hardback)

ISBN 9781528986779 (ePub e-book)

www.austinmacauley.com

First Published (2018)

Second Edition (2019)

Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd

25 Canada Square

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E14 5LQ

Chapter One

The Game Begins

H

ELLO! My name is Sergeant Kate Willings. Today my life changed forever…in so many ways… for so many reasons.

A misty halo shrouded the thick morning dew. The fog was just starting to clear as dawn was rising. Merging shades of pink and mauve quavered in the background.

Dimming my headlights I noticed the streetlamp shining down on something significant on the pavement… maybe a prank of some kind, I thought. Pulling over on the kerb with torch in hand I approached the object not knowing what to expect. As I drew nearer, my heart started to pound deep within me as the fear of danger loomed.

The severed head lay peacefully in a pool of blood on the cold cement slab below me, without a trace of the torture and torment it left behind.

Inhaling a deep breath I managed to pluck up courage to kneel down beside it. Inching my way in, closer and closer I started to tremble, my body in shock. It was a grotesque sight – so unforgiving! Feeling nauseated, I forced myself to heave to one side.

Trying to decipher the reality of the situation, I recalled the atrocities of history and felt disgusted. What could have possibly driven anyone to perform such a barbaric act? I wondered. Perhaps they are psychopathic. Be strong, Kate! I mumbled under my breath. I’m not going to pass out!

January 2003 was nearing the end after a long hot summer. Wild bushfires had raged, destroying anything in its path… gale force winds spread the flames further afield. Our capital city was struck the worst. There was loss of homes, livestock, national parks and loss of life itself. It was a holiday season most Australians wanted to forget. It left many people homeless! Australia Day on the 26th was remembered for all the wrong reasons. Luckily, my hometown of Waratah and, nearby, Woton escaped its fiery embers, or were we spared for a reason? A lashing of electrical storms had lit the sky the night before as the temperature plummeted to an all-time much needed low.

The stark face stared back at me hauntingly. I shivered as goose-bumps formed on my skin. My eyes felt glued together, unable to blink. I stayed there for a while until I had regained my composure and until that wretched, sick feeling had left me. Then I reached down into my pocket.

How odd, I thought to myself, scratching my head and then scribbling shorthand symbols in my notebook.

The ghostly visage wore a serene smile. The wide-open brown eyes showed no signs of pain or struggle – in the face of true adversity. I paused to admire the unfolding colours of sunrise around me which softened my sombre mood. It looked promising for a blue sky and sunshine.

I continued to scribble, ‘smiling, brown eyes, open,’ as I heard footsteps approaching.

Stone the flamin’ crows! he exclaimed while peering down on the decapitated head.

I’m so relieved to see you, Inspector Pinhorn, I said, with a broad beaming smile. I wasn’t sure who they’d send, but I’m glad it’s you. My charm must have worked as his lips pursed.

Howdy! he said, removing his Akubra hat. I wish I could say the same. Being paged to an emergency on my quiet Sunday off doesn’t agree with me!

Well, neither will this body part lying here on the pavement…. You know, we needed someone of your calibre to take control.

Blimey! I must be famous. You know who I am! he said in his broad accent.

Of course! Your reputation is widespread around the crime squad.

Inspector Bernard Pinhorn had earned himself an impeccable reputation as Australia’s finest detective. He was renowned nationally for his clever crime-solving skills and quick wit. He was affectionately known and referred to as Lord Pinhorn due to his aristocratic English ancestry, obscurely linked to royalty about three generations back. He had an eye for detail, a delicate sense of smell and a taste for anything unsavoury. He was a fair dinkum Aussie and, at times, swore like one.

Sniffing crime from miles away, he was drawn to it like a dog following a scent…carefully marking its territory.

Crikey, compliments like that make me weak at the knees! What’s your name and rank? he asked abruptly before adding, I feel disadvantaged not knowing.

I’m Sergeant Kate Willings from the special crime squad Waratah.

Fill me in, Sergeant. What happened?

Unfortunately, Inspector, there are no details. What you see before you is what we have, and any clues are anyone’s guess at this stage.

Hmm, you’re practically part of my department. We are neighbours! he said, peering across at me.

We share the same building but a different floor, sir, I replied.

Well, I’m pleased to meet you! he said, shaking my hand with a hot, sweaty palm. Do you mind if I call you Kate, unofficially? Sergeant Willings seems so formal.

Yes, that’s fine! I’d like that! Does that mean I can call you Bernard?

He looked amused with a twinkle in his eye.

Think of me as a sniffer dog. I obediently answer to most names, from Inspector Bernard Pinhorn, Lord Pinhorn, Inspector, Sir, Boss, or if in private, I will usually answer to the title of ‘Bernard’. He paused before saying, Who discovered the head, Sergeant?

It’s hard to believe, but it was me…on my routine rounds of the town square…so surreal, I said, pausing.

Crikey! Please continue, Kate.

The light shining down on it caught my eye. I gasped. I was in denial… Surely, not in this day and age, and definitely not in Australia, I said The guillotined head made me heave.

That’s pure speculation, Sergeant Willings. We don’t know that yet, but it looks like a neat, clean job, maybe performed by a professional… You know, you’re not allowed to roam the streets alone. Where was your partner?

I was technically on my way to work, sir, and he was joining me shortly! I replied.

He paused and drew in a deep breath while studying the head from all angles as he circled around it. It’s a wonder somebody didn’t beat you to it!

They were probably too scared to ring the police… It was very early, nearing daybreak at 5.30 a.m., when I noticed it.

Discarded on purpose for us to find and voila! He made a phone call and gave instructions.

The section was immediately taped off and the head concealed from the public eye. However, it was no deterrent for speculation and distress by onlookers who were promptly told to move on.

Inspector Bernard Pinhorn spent most of the morning at the crime scene after calling in the forensic team and very speedily arranging the body part to be taken away for full examination and a postmortem.

Well, what do you think, Inspector Pinhorn? I enquired.

I think many things, but one thing I do know is…it must be kept under wraps and our findings kept confidential.

He hesitated, deep in thought, the seconds ticking away. It’s crucial we avoid undue paranoia and avoid the media.

I was fascinated watching the master of criminology in action and his technique first-hand…so different to what I had expected. It’s funny how we conjure up a picture in our subconscious before we meet the person, and usually our perception is totally different. He was far more casual and far more approachable than I had envisaged. The deep hazel of his partial cross eyes stared at you and the bump on his nose was perched with distinction. His thick, blond curly locks made him look like an ocker rather than a gentleman, yet for an older man, he oozed a unique charm.

Okay, boss – I mean, Inspector Pinhorn, but what are your findings?

Smirking, he replied, Don’t worry, Sergeant, all will be disclosed confidentially.

I’ll hold you to that! I exclaimed.

I have observed several baffling aspects to this case! I think we’ll wrap it up here at the murder scene and proceed back to headquarters.

The city of Waratah lay in the beautiful foothills of Wallaby Valley, inland with a population of nearly one million people. It was a far cry from the ocean and surfing beaches. To be exact, it was about a three-day journey out to the sparkling waters of the Pacific Ocean. On a clear day, the hills resembled a blue-and-mauve quilt that glistened in the sun and changed colours with the mood of the sky. I was grateful I lived on the outskirts of town, away from the hustle, bustle and noise of the big city. Police headquarters was conveniently located right in the middle of downtown Waratah, amidst shopping centres, arts and crafts galleries, movie theatres, arcades and office blocks. Apart from a famous convict bridge over the babbling cascades of the Woton River on the south approach and a city clock tower with panoramic views, there were no tourist attractions around the area. Its pretty meandering streams and hills and the natural flora of Wallaby Valley inhabited by wild kangaroos, wombats and other fauna made it unique. The temperatures soared in summer, sometimes without rain, turning the lush green meadows into brown barren fields. In winter, it could get mighty cold and, occasionally, it even snowed, leaving a shimmer of white sprinkled across the landscape. It was a handy city to visit being on route to the ski fields, offering a diverse variety of culture and entertainment for passionate art lovers.

Inspector Bernard Pinhorn and I spent a good three hours in his office on the top floor before calling it a day. I could hear the birds chirping, which surprised me, but it was such a pleasant sound. His spacious office, located high on the tenth floor, boasted panoramic views over the city and suburbs, river and surrounding hinterland…. I felt envious. Silence prevailed as I pondered on my own private thoughts.

He looked at me with a concerned face. Are you okay? Your face looks white and drawn.

Oh yes, I felt much better after vomiting, but now the smiling face keeps flashing before me. I just can’t shake the vision. It’s like a ghost haunting me, Inspector.

Don’t worry! Those images will gradually fade. Is this the first time you’ve seen a severed head, Kate?

Well, anything so graphic, yes! I’ve witnessed dead bodies and murdered ones but never just a bloodied head carved up – I continued with quivering lips, gracefully placed on the pavement for all to admire…as if a showpiece from an art gallery.

Yes it’s eerie and quite daunting. A good night’s sleep will do wonders, I am sure, Sergeant Willings! he exclaimed reassuringly.

Thanks! I can’t wait to get home and soak in a bath! Our conversation was cut short.

Hello, Aussie! There was a pause of a few seconds. Hello, Aussie, I’m a pretty boy! I kept hearing with my ears pricked. I turned around to see what inhabited the large birdcage that hung from the brass stand at the entrance of Inspector Pinhorn’s office. Birdseed was being spat out through the bars. The door was wide open, held together by a peg.

Did I hear right? I wondered. Now I have seen everything – a talking budgerigar… Hmm, nice plumage! I said, admiring its unusual colouring. I thought I heard bird noises before, and now I know their origin. I was too engrossed in our paperwork to take much notice before.

Instead of having speckled wings like most budgies, this one was almost totally white, with just a few insignificant speckles and a light blue beak indicating it was a male. Its eyes were a paler blue, not black like they should be. The colour started to appear back in my cheeks as my fascination grew.

I don’t mean to be rude, but is this an albino budgerigar? I’ve never seen one with this colouring before.

Voila Kate! He’s a rare breed and our lucky mascot. When I’m in a bad mood, he somehow turns it around!

Every police station should have one! I stated emphatically. Then I noticed Inspector Pinhorn walking with a magnificent-looking cockatiel perched placidly on his shoulder. It resembled a miniature cockatoo, practically pure white, with light grey and black markings on its wings. Two round orange birthmarks lined its cheeks and a heap of fluffy yellow feathers were sticking up from the crest of its head, like a paintbrush.

Oh, now I get it! It was the cockatiel that spoke to me before, wasn’t it?

How intuitive of you, Kate!

By the way, what’s his name? I paused, Oh, let me guess, ‘Aussie’, I said answering my own question.

Well, this one is, but my albino budgerigar is called ‘True Blue’.

Does he talk too? I enquired.

Give them time, and they’ll perform all sorts of tricks…like born entertainers!

We both laughed and then True Blue joined in by walking out of the cage, flying around the room and perching himself high on the rafters above.

Obviously, there’s no occupational health and safety in this office! I exclaimed indignantly.

I should only open the cage out of business hours, he replied, amused. They’re my pets… I take them home with me sometimes.

Oh, how nice! I replied.

They’re good company for a man who lives on his own.

I suppose they help you solve all the crimes too? I asked in my sweetest voice.

Well, in a way, they do. They create solace and calm – He started to cough.

Which gives you time to really focus and think clearly, I interrupted.

Crikey, you have summed it up nicely, Sergeant, replied Inspector Pinhorn.

I had heard through the grapevine that Inspector Pinhorn was a little bit on the eccentric side, but I had also heard how fair and kind he really was outside his rough yet blunt exterior.

Crouching to peer inside the birdcage, I could see a menagerie…One was blue feathered with a brown beak and the other was green and yellow with a blue beak. They were jabbering away to themselves in bird language.

Budgies sure do speak quickly. If I’m not mistaken, I think I heard the one with the blue beak say ‘pretty boy’.

Right again! The male budgerigars are far superior to the female variety and more intellectual as well!

I felt he was waiting for an equally sexist reply from me, even though I was not a bird of the feathered variety. I still felt wounded and slightly insulted, so I cleverly replied, Oh, only in the bird species… it’s the reverse in humans!

All I received in reply was a smirk of amusement as he absorbed the lashing from my tongue and said very casually, I’m glad the colour is returning to your face, Kate.

A fire engine sped by with blazing sirens…. Aussie started to nod its head and lift its tiny scaly feet in unison to the music. After a few seconds of silence, he mimicked the siren to perfection… and for the exact length of time. When he had finished imitating the fire engine, he squawked, Hello, I’m Aussie!

We both looked at each other and laughed. True Blue flew down from the rafters and landed on Inspector Pinhorn’s head, seeking attention. How clever! I thought.

My crime squad operated from the second floor with no views and a lot more congestion. On my floor, it was desk after desk after desk and locker after locker after locker.

Now I had met Inspector Lord Pinhorn in the flesh, he was different to what I had imagined. He was roughly about 183 centimetres (six feet) tall, with fair to blond, wavy hair, with an olive complexion. Even though I had calculated him to be in his mid to late 40s, he kept his age extremely well, looking around the 40-year age mark, more like a bronzed Aussie than an English lord. He had many creases on his kind face that seemed to just blend naturally into his image, but his nose was very distinctive. I guessed that was why he could sniff out crime from miles away. He had beady brown eyes that seemed to follow you around, being slightly cross eyed. Yes, he was a man of distinction.

I was thinking my own thoughts, I feel strange in new surroundings, but at the same time, feel privileged. Then I started to think pleasant, selfish thoughts about my rostered days off that were owing to me.

My mood changed and I suddenly had a new burst of energy to head out the door.

What are you excited about, Sergeant? Is it the fact you are going home or something else?

Oh nothing, Inspector, I replied with a sparkle in my eye, Just something I have to do. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow. Maybe we’ll run into each other.

Sergeant Willings, before you go –

I hesitated and turned around before saying, Yes, what is it?

I’ve decided to officially appoint you my personal assistant on this case. I feel you deserve it after your discovery. Would that be too impertinent of me to ask?

I stood there like a stunned mullet and then replied, No, I’m just shocked, that’s all. Now I really do have something to smile about.

Blimey! Does that mean I have an answer, Sergeant?

Yes, I guess it does! I replied impulsively. I feel honoured…Thank you.

Good, it’s settled then! After all, we practically work in the same crime squad, he said.

Except your views are superior! Does that mean I get a promotion? I said cheekily.

No, I’ll just borrow you.

You mean, like a library book? I exclaimed in disgust.

He laughed, It just means I have to return you at the end.

Well, I don’t know if I like the sound of being shuffled from shelf to shelf and categorised, I said curtly. Maybe a date stamp would be more appropriate!

He formed a huge grin. Well, from tomorrow, Sergeant Willings, you’ll officially move up to the tenth floor and occupy the open office space right there outside my office, he said, pointing.

I guess it’s better than an empty bookcase in a library! I exclaimed, not being able to resist the chance to say more.

He ignored my comment and continued, But now you know the facts, do you still accept my offer, Sergeant?

Do I have a choice? I asked.

Why of course. It depends if you’re referring to being borrowed or being upgraded to views over the city, he said, smiling arrogantly.

Being upgraded permanently really appeals to me, so my answer is ‘yes’. I accept the challenge.

Good! I look forward to listening to a woman’s perspective. He paused to see if I would comment.

And I look forward to skipping rank! I replied hastily.

Hmm… I’ll organise the necessary paperwork and inform your up-line. I think it’s Detective Ivan Romundo who is in charge. Am I correct?

You are well informed, Inspector.

It’s my business to be. We need to assign a specialised team to this project. They can be from your department, including Detective Romundo. We need to know who this dismembered head belongs to.

You mean two brilliant minds instead of one! I boldly said before disappearing.

I can see you are going to give me trouble, Sergeant Willings! his voice echoed down the corridor as I quietly disappeared into the lift, thinking he was more of an Australian larrikin than an English lord. Despite his rugged exterior, it was obvious he still practised the values, principles and old-fashioned ways of a thorough gentleman.

Now I had spent time with Inspector Pinhorn I summed him up as a cross between Alf Stewart from TV soapie ‘Home & Away’ and Mick Dundee (Paul Hogan) in the ‘Crocodile Dundee’ franchises.

a        a

Chapter Two

My Date with Pierre

T

HERE ARE A few things you need to know about Sergeant Kate Willings. I’m sure you’ve all seen the movie or heard about the movie There’s Something About Mary – well, there’s just something about Kate that attracts people to her like a magnet, something special and unique that distinguishes her from other people, someone that makes heads turn, someone you look at twice. To sum her up in one word, it would be…‘infectious’!

Her beautiful hair glistened as much as she did. It was long, thick and naturally blonde. When her hair wasn’t tied up and pinned in under her police hat, it sat neatly halfway between her shoulders and her bottom. It had a natural kink of its own that would easily mould into any style, whether it be curled, straightened, pinned, gelled or just left natural and long to blow freely in the wind. She had an aura that drew you in like an invisible halo wrapped around her body.

Kate’s deep green eyes were a very unusual colour, like faded jade. They seemed to follow you everywhere and penetrate right through you as if you were made of glass. She was about 168 centimetres tall (five feet six inches) and her measurements weren’t bad either – not overly large in the boob department but not flat chested either. I guess you could say she had a handful. In her bikini, her breasts seemed larger than they actually were, not because she was aroused, but because they stood perfectly erect, giving a natural cleavage line down the middle, the illusion of an uplift. Her measurements were approximately 34-inch bust with B-size cup, a waistline around 26 inches and hips around the 35 mark, so all in all, pretty good, wouldn’t you say? She always attracted wolf whistles, but deep down, Sergeant Kate Willings wanted to be liked and respected for what she was – a good, honest policewoman who was a deep thinker and who really used her brain to full capacity. As was said, there was just something about Kate…

a        a

I couldn’t wait to get home and have a much-needed soak in my hot tub. It had been a very gruelling day. The beheading had really unnerved me, and I needed time to unwind and relax. I was trying so hard to get rid of the evil images in my head as I thought about the French Revolution and how horrid and barbaric it was to decapitate a human body. As I soaked in the bath and breathed in the steam, my mind blocked out the negative images of the head and replaced it with pleasant, enjoyable ones close to my heart.

More importantly, I was excited about my first date with Pierre, whom I had met at art classes. Deep down inside, I couldn’t wait for the moment to arrive. He was dark, French and very sexy. I felt like melting on the spot every time I heard his deep French accent – it really aroused me.

I had bought a new dress the day before for my special night. It was black, off the shoulders and snug fitting, accentuating my curves. I chose a pair of silver diamond-studded stilettos to complement it. I wore my hair down so it hung naturally. Its thickness and shine accentuated my outfit and, of course, my small cleavage, which pleased me.

The doorbell rang right on 6.00 p.m. I took one last look in the mirror, puckered my lips with pink lip gloss and opened the front door. I didn’t want to appear too eager.

Hello, Pierre. I’m impressed. You’re very punctual!

I try to be. Wow, you look pretty tonight, he said, looking me up and down in a complimentary way.

Thanks for noticing. It feels like a Saturday evening, not Sunday, I replied.

He just stood there, grinning with his sexy smile. I agree, tomorrow should be Sunday all over again. Here, these are for you, Kate. His accent was so penetrating.

Wow, how did you know I love flowers, particularly tulips? I looked at him but without giving him time to answer and continued, They’re my favourite…the scent is so subtle…like honey pollen, I said, breathing in the sweet aroma.

Let’s just say, I noticed that tulips featured in one of your artworks. I’m so glad you like them. Are you ready to go?

Yes. Let me guess, we’re going to a French restaurant.

Well, I hate to spoil the surprise, but you’re right. However, the location and name will remain a secret. Enjoy the drive.

Pierre opened the car door while I climbed into his black Mercedes sports car, feeling very special. It was about a half-hour drive out the other side of town.

Once we were seated at the Normandy French Café on the banks of the tranquil Woton River, Pierre said to me, Why, Kate, I hardly know anything about you, except that you like art.

I think it’s more exciting this way. You know, the mystery, the intrigue, I replied with enthusiasm.

Yes indeed! replied Pierre vaguely as if in deep thought miles away. He soon snapped out of it and refocused on me.

We enjoyed a superb, authentic three-course dinner, including escargot and frogs legs. He had to talk me into tasting them but was glad I did. We were seated at a private corner table overlooking the very picturesque river which shimmered with the reflection of the surrounding wattle and gum trees. The sky was still tinged with mauve and pink after a spectacular sunset hovering on the horizon.

It wasn’t long before the sky was dark and the shoreline on both sides was studded with glittering lights shining from dotted houses and buildings, which glowed across the water in an eye-catching display, while the stars above them twinkled in the peaceful night sky.

We giggled and talked about art, cars, theatre, movies and practically anything at all that came to mind. We held hands across the table and stared into each other’s eyes in admiration as we continued to hide our strong attraction. The romantic evening was everything I expected it to be. He appeared to be a thorough gentleman, walking me to the front door and planting a gentle goodnight kiss on my blushing cheek.

Kate, would you like to go out again sometime? Perhaps we could go dancing next time? he said in his strong accent, which sometimes was hard to understand, particularly certain letters and words that got blended together.

The sparkle in my eyes and a beaming smile gave way to my inner and most private thoughts. Now you know two things about me – that I like to paint and that I like to dance.

But I still don’t know what you do, Kate, I mean work-wise, what your profession is.

I make it a rule never to mix business with pleasure. I have learnt from past experiences. I thought to myself, If only he really knew what sort of day I had endured.

Well, you certainly are intriguing. Goodnight, Kate. See you at art classes. He gave my cheek a gentle kiss and it turned rosy red.

Thank you for a splendid evening, Pierre.

He beeped the car horn as he disappeared around the corner in his classy car.

I was feeling pleasantly full and slightly tipsy as I collapsed on the bed with my head spinning, trying to digest all the events of one very exhausting and confusing day. One thing I did know for sure was that I felt blissfully happy as I drifted off into a very deep sleep, a sleep well overdue. There were no images of severed heads or guillotines at the back of my mind. It felt wonderful to feel peaceful and be rid of those wretched thoughts once and for all as my heavy eyelids slowly blinked closed.

a        a

Chapter Three

Inspector Lord Pinhorn

I

WOKE UP feeling refreshed and recharged, ready to tackle a brand new day in my new role in my new office. I slipped into my police uniform, checked in the mirror that my hair was tucked in neatly under my police hat and then drove post-haste to the police station. Until I completed my accreditation as a detective and received my certificate, I was still a fully fledged police officer that wore her uniform with pride every day.

I decided to do the courteous thing and to first check in with Ivan on the second floor. It felt strange knowing I was leaving the lads. He saw me arrive.

Hi, Kate! I hear you’re leaving us? he remarked casually.

My, news travels fast! You sound very excited at the prospect of getting rid of me, Ivan, I replied curtly.

I will rephrase that, Kate, I hear you’re being borrowed, or should I say, temporarily transferred, he said, looking up at me in a half smile.

Hi, Detective Romundo! Yes, just like a library book shuffled from shelf to shelf, then returned.

Well, I haven’t heard it described that way before. We might not want you back, he replied in amusement.

Are you going to miss me, Ivan? I said cheekily, a smirk on my face.

Let’s just say that things won’t be the same around here without your energy. I mean, the men will miss you. He paused, then added in his polished voice, We’ll still be in regular contact, as Inspector Pinhorn and I are sharing you.

Oh, so now I’m being shared, am I? Being sliced down the middle like a piece of meat and served on two plates. That should be very interesting!

He laughed and said, For you, Kate, or us?

Both, I’m sure! Well, I’m off to my new post now. Can’t be late on my first day! I guess we’ll run into each other in the building or in the lift, I remarked as I pushed the lift button and waited for the doors to open. Detective Ivan Romundo sure knew how to get under my skin and turn the charm off and on like a tap.

I felt proud as I alighted from the lift on the tenth floor. The glorious view of the blue hills and deep-blue cloudless sky was in front of me as the doors opened and I felt fresh and alive with renewed energy.

I could see Inspector Pinhorn steadfastly at work in his office through the glass panel. I half expected to be greeted by Aussie or True Blue spitting birdseed at me or darting across and perching on my shoulder. I looked over and saw the birdcage was tightly closed.

I signed in and knocked on his door. As I entered and brushed by the cage, I was officially welcomed with, Hi, I’m Aussie, and then just after it, I heard True Blue. Those two muffled words, ‘pretty boy’, were relayed quickly in bird language in a much quieter tone from the back of the cage.

I smiled, Well, Inspector Pinhorn, what have we found out? Anything to report?

Good morning to you too, Kate, and welcome! I trust you’re feeling much better today.

Yes, thanks. I slept like a log.

Pleased to hear it, he said.

I realise it’s a big part of my job to accept and deal with unpleasant things! I exclaimed with a ring of confidence.

Are you ready to do that, Sergeant Willings, as I am relying on you?

Yes, definitely! I know I’ll have to visualise what I saw on a daily basis, being involved in the case, but now I can clearly differentiate between my duty and my feelings.

Good, that takes courage! That’s why I chose you, Kate. I can tell you are strong and independent.

Well, Inspector Pinhorn, I’ll remain impartial. Please inform me of any progress.

We’re going to keep our findings secret for now, away from the media, to avoid undue panic and concern by the public.

Oh, that must mean you now have something concrete to tell me, I piped in excited anticipation.

The John Doe is still not identified. All we know is that the head was that of a male Caucasian probably around 25 years of age and maybe of foreign origin. I’m going to put you in charge of chasing all missing persons’ records for the last two weeks. No one has come forward yet or even phoned us, so now it’s up to us to find out who the head belongs to.

Oh, it sounds so terrible when you put it that way, Inspector. Don’t worry though, I’m on to something and will do a thorough search of all missing persons and new migrants into the country.

However, there’s one thing I have not told you, Kate. It’s now confirmed, and quite obvious, that this unidentified person was killed elsewhere, anywhere in fact, and then his head dumped on the sidewalk for all to see.

But why would anyone want us to find it? Why didn’t they hide the head or just get rid of it? I asked.

Yes, it occurred to me too. I’m sure our murderer has a motive, but it’s probably the usual reason: for recognition and the struggle for power.

He paused. By the way, Sergeant, have you thought about who we should assign to the task force?

"As a matter of fact, I have. Of course, Detective Ivan Romundo, who is the boss down there; Sergeant Ted Rafter and two other very experienced officers; plus two very promising officers who just finished their specialised training. They both have excellent credentials and got honours at university. I