Clean Kill

By Steve Tyner

The girl lay in the grass on the side of the trail beneath the low-hanging limbs of a dogwood tree. Her arms were by her side, one leg bent at the knee. She was completely nude, and her skin glistened with a thin coat of early dew. Her lifeless eyes were open so that she gave the appearance of a storefront mannequin. There were no signs of any struggle, no drag marks, no obvious footprints. There was also no obvious sign of any blood anywhere to be seen. There was not a mark on her that could be seen, nor was there any hair-anywhere. She had been completely shaved everywhere one would normally expect to see hair. It also appeared as if she had just stepped out of the shower and dried off. The body was spotless, save for a few insects, which had begun to crawl on it. There was no sign of any dirt, grass, twig, even dust. Homicide Detective Robert Gillette had investigated a lot of murders in his nearly twenty-five-year career as a policeman and had seen a lot of bodies-bodies shot, cut up, blown apart, run over, ground up, beat up, burned up. The bodies now turning up around the city are unlike any he had ever seen-they are perfectly clean. How are they dying, and who is killing these beautiful young girls? And are the murders connected to the series of unsolved sexual assaults that had eerily similar characteristics? As the investigation continues, Gillette would encounter more and more questions while finding fewer and fewer answers. It will also draw him back into a relationship he thought was long over but would lead to near-tragic circumstances.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: May 17, 2018
• ISBN: 9781641388665

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Clean Kill

Steve Tyner

Copyright © 2018 Steve Tyner

All rights reserved

First Edition

Page Publishing, Inc

New York, NY

First originally published by Page Publishing, Inc 2018

ISBN 978-1-64138-865-8 (Paperback)

ISBN 978-1-64138-866-5 (Digital)

Printed in the United States of America

Saturday, April 14, 1990

1:30 p.m.

He had found the magazine tucked away inside a plain brown wrapper among a stack of Popular Mechanics in the garage. He was now captivated by what he was looking at. The images were unlike anything he had ever seen or even imagined in his young life. Something in his mind told him he was not supposed to be looking at such images, but he could not stop himself. He had always wondered exactly how different girls looked under their clothes, but he had no idea it was what these pictures told him. As he stared at the images, he felt a stirring deep within him he had never felt before, something that was warm and appealing. Before he knew it, a part of his body began reacting in a way it had never reacted before, causing a giddiness he did not understand. At first he was ashamed, but the feeling of pleasure it brought soon overrode the shame. He continued leafing through the pages, dwelling on the images, lost to his surroundings. So captivated was he that he failed to hear the approaching footsteps until it was too late.

What have you got there! Where did you get such filth! his mother gasped. Do you know what your father would do to you if he caught you with something like this? She snatched the magazine from him and drew back her hand as if she would strike him across the face. But then she took a closer look at him, and her face reddened. She reached out and grasped him by both shoulders.

What were you doing? That’s a nasty, filthy thing, do you know that? Only dirty little boys do things like that! she screamed at him. Don’t you ever let me catch you doing such an abomination as this again, do you hear me? We’ll keep it between us this time, but if it ever happens again, I’ll tell your father, and you know what he’ll do to you. Don’t you?

The boy nodded, tears welling up in his eyes. He knew exactly what his father would do to both him and to his mother. He would blame her for it. He was always blaming her for any mischief the boy got into. Seeing the tears, the mother drew the boy to her and hugged him.

Now I want you to go to the bathroom and scrub yourself good with lye soap. You scrub every inch of your body until the filth of what you were just doing is gone from you forever.

This was always her answer any time he got into trouble. Cleanliness is next to godliness. She believed she could wash away the bad with lye soap, and it would penetrate down to his innermost being. But soap would not wash away the images that were now implanted in his mind. They were too strong and would only grow stronger as the years progressed.

Wednesday, January 8, 2014

6:30 a.m.

The boys had been running for only twenty minutes when they found her.

Baseball tryouts were not far off, and they wanted to get a head start on the other guys against whom they would be competing. Normally they ran down the streets near their homes, but after a month, that had become boring. They had decided this morning they would try something different. The walking trail the city had designed by the river seemed a good choice. From their home street to the trail’s end and back, it gave them a nice four-mile run, which would be a good workout. Leaving home about 6:00 a.m., they had enough time to make the run and get back for showers and a quick breakfast before they had to leave for school.

The river walk was a paved trail following the course of the river through a wooded glade. Normally it was a favorite for fitness freaks and walking retirees, but these rarely came out before 9:00 a.m. No one else had been out this morning other than a few stray cats and the squirrels that were always along the walking trail no matter what the time of day. The air was cool, and the boys settled into a steady jog. Their conversation ran from the usual girl talk only teenage boys could find interesting to the competition they thought they may have come tryout time. They paid little attention to the natural beauty that surrounded them as they wound their way along the walk. A low ground fog gave the route an eerie look at this predawn hour, lit by the occasional lamppost situated every thirty yards or so along the river walk.

They almost missed her. Their minds were not on a dead body, much less one like this. Les glimpsed her bare foot, white against the brown winter foliage beside the trail. He wasn’t quite sure what he saw and continued on a few more yards before he stopped in his tracks. Jeff continued even farther until he realized he was running by himself and turned to see Les staring back down the trail.

What’s wrong? Jeff called back.

It’s a body, Les said quietly, pointing back toward where he had glimpsed the girl’s foot.

Walking back, Jeff couldn’t quite believe what he had heard. A what?

Slowly, Les walked over to where the girl was lying and stared. Jeff joined him and gasped.

Oh, shit! Look at that, man! Have you ever seen anything like that!

The girl lay in the grass on the side of the trail beneath the low-hanging limbs of a dogwood tree. Her arms were by her side, one leg bent at the knee, the foot against the other leg. She was completely nude, and her skin glistened with a thin coat of early dew. Her lifeless eyes were open so that she gave the appearance of a storefront mannequin. The absence of any hair added to the deception.

We gotta go get the police or somebody, Jeff said, still not believing what he was looking at.

How do you suppose she got here? I mean, look how clean she is! Les said, stooping over the body.

I don’t care, man. I’m not hanging around. Come on! Jeff urged his friend, tugging at Les’s sleeve and pulling him back toward where they had come from.

Same Day

8:00 a.m.

Detective Robert Gillette had worked somewhere in the neighborhood of 250 homicides since joining the division eleven years earlier. Most of them had been either domestic-violence situations or gang-related crimes. As soon as he arrived at the river walk, he knew this was neither of those. One look at the victim, and he knew this was going to be unlike any homicide he had ever investigated before. He was glad he worked in a department that knew how to work a crime scene. Not only did Homicide understand how important it was to preserve a scene, but even the patrol units city-wide had had it drilled into them how to approach any scene of violence in such a way as to preserve any possible evidence that might be there. If they knew there was any possibility there were no survivors on scene and no one was going to need immediate medical attention, officers took extreme precautions to tape off the scene and protect it until investigators arrived. At least this department had learned something from the O.J. Simpson case.

When Gillette approached the body, he noticed the scene was almost pristine. There were no signs of any struggle, no drag marks, no obvious footprints. There was also no obvious sign of any blood anywhere to be seen. The body had been covered with someone’s heat blanket from an emergency kit. Another smart move since the blanket would keep anything unrelated to the crime from blowing onto the body and, when removed, would not pick up any fibers that might be on the body. He asked two CSIs to carefully lift it so he could examine the victim.

You ready for a surprise, Detective? CSI Reed asked.

A surprise? Don’t think there’s much left to surprise me about dead bodies anymore, Reed. From the ones I’ve seen in person or in pictures, I’ve just about seen it all.

That’s what I thought, too, ’til I got here, Reed said as he and the other CSI drew the blanket back from the girl’s body.

Gillette had seen a wide variety of death and destruction in his career. He had seen bodies shot, cut, blown apart, run over, ground up, beat up, burned up. This one, however, did take him aback to say the least. Just like the crime scene, she was in pristine condition. There was not a mark on her that he could see, nor was there any hair—anywhere. She had been completely shaved everywhere one would normally expect to see hair. It also appeared as if she had just stepped out of the shower and dried off. The body was spotless, save for a few insects that had begun to crawl on it. Gillette could find no sign of any dirt, grass, twig, even dust.

Well, surprised yet? Reed queried.

Puzzled might be a better word. Let’s let the medical examiner do his thing with her, and we’ll take a look at the rest of the scene. Have you guys found anything since you been here?

As I’m sure you’ve already noted there doesn’t seem to be a lot here. How he got her here is a big question. Of course, it would be no problem to drive something on to the paved walkway of the trail. There are several places where a vehicle can access it, and there would be no tire treads. So far we have found no significant footprint impressions that we can associate with the body or someone who may have put it here. This is a pretty popular walking and jogging trail so there are lots of prints around. There is no blood evidence anywhere to be found. Of course looking at the body, we didn’t expect to find any. I can’t wait to find out what the ME finds as cause of death.

My guess it’s going to be poison of some sort, suggested Gillette. So you have found nothing?

I didn’t say that. Step over here. Reed led Gillette away from where the body lay about fifteen yards toward the river bank. On the ground were three cigarette butts with filters, and beside these was one clear latex glove.

What do you make of that, Detective?

I would say someone was watching. And I would also say someone was sloppy.

But what were they watching? asked Reed.

Maybe he stayed awhile to observe his handiwork, or maybe he stayed to see if someone would find her. Given the early hour the body was found, he would be secluded in here. Collect them. Maybe we’ll get lucky.

Gillette and Reed walked back to where the body was just as the ME was wrapping up.

Body temp says she’s been dead about four hours. No obvious signs of trauma anywhere. I’ll be able to tell you more once we get her autopsied, Dr. Evans said matter-of-factly. OK, boys, you can go ahead and load her up and take her down to the shop.

Placing an empty body bag beside her, the ME’s assistants gently lifted the girl’s body and placed her inside, zipped her up, and placed the bag on a stretcher, pushing it to the back of a waiting van. Gillette now took the time to more closely examine the space under the body. The grass underneath was depressed, but there was little else. Just as he had expected, it was just as clean as the rest of the scene. Nothing indicated who had put her there. Everything was just so clean.

Next Gillette interviewed the two boys who had found the body. A patrol unit had brought them back to the scene after they had called in their find. Both appeared rattled by the discovery, which told the detective they were probably not responsible for the girl’s death.

Boys, I’m Detective Gillette, Homicide. I have just a few questions for you about this morning. About what time did you find the young lady’s body?

It must have been around six thirty, maybe a little before, I guess, Les said.

Did you see anybody else around on the walk while you were out this morning?

No, sir. We never passed anybody the whole time we were running from the time we left home ’til we found the . . . her, replied Jeff.

Did you see anyone over by the river beyond where her body was lying, just standing around?

Both boys shook their heads.

OK, boys. Thank you for your help. You did the right thing this morning by reporting this as soon as you did. Oh, one more thing. Do you run down here regularly this early in the morning?

No, sir. This was our first time. And after this, it’s probably going to be our last! Jeff remarked as the boys turned to go.

Gillette grinned. He didn’t think he could blame the boys for the last comment. Such a find would shake anyone up. And seeing a dead nude female would in all likelihood go a long way in slowing down the libido in those two young men for quite a while.

The detective spent another hour at the scene looking for any evidence that might tell him how the girl had been brought to the site. As CSI Reed had pointed out, the foot traffic through the area was so great that it was impossible to separate any specific prints from others. Even in the area where the cigarette butts and glove were found, the ground was pretty well trodden down so that no individual prints stood out. No tire marks were found in any grassy or dirt areas that would be of any use either. Except for the body, they had little to go on, and from what Gillette had seen, he held out little hope that the girl was going to be able to tell them very much in death. His biggest challenge now would be to try to identify her.

Friday, January 10, 2014

9:00 a.m.

Detective Gillette tapped on the medical examiner’s office door promptly at 9:00 a.m. Friday morning. It had been forty-eight hours since the girl’s body had been found on the river walk. She had been identified from a missing-person’s report filed by her parents four days earlier. Gillette’s department was still following up on details from that report to try to determine how she had disappeared,