Missing: The Body of Evidence Read Free

room. With nothing else that piqued her interest, she picked
up the crime scene tape as she passed the dining table and headed outside to
the police officer.
    ‘I need the key to lock up, where’s the
janitor’s apartment?’
    ‘Number one, on the bottom floor.’
    ‘Be an angel and go and get the key for me.’
    He scurried off and she tore a length of
tape, trapping both ends in the door as it closed. The officer returned with
the janitor. In his mid-fifties, his hair was balding on top and greying at the
sides. He peered over his spectacles, which were precariously perched on the
end of his large-hooked-strawberry nose.
    ‘I’ll lock it,’ he said.
    His tone of voice and demeanour was
irreverent. The stench of alcohol on his breath caused her to avert her gaze.
    ‘Fine, but I’ll need the key. No one can
have access until CSI determines it’s no longer a crime scene.’
    She detected a look of displeasure at him
having to hand over the key and sent a detective stare in his direction.
    ‘Did you see Professor Reynolds at any time
before the fire?’
    ‘I’ve already given a statement.’
    ‘Yeah, well CSI have them all and I’m
asking again. Just answer the question.’
    The janitor huffed and shrugged his
shoulders.
    ‘The answer is no, I didn’t see him, but
his apartment is over mine. I heard him moving about around midnight.’
    ‘Did he have a girlfriend, or any other
visitors?’
    ‘None that I ever knew of, he kept himself
to his self. He doesn’t stay here often.’
    ‘When did you realize there was a fire?’
    ‘I awoke when I heard the smoke detector
and phoned 911.’
    She realized they were both holding the key
and tugged it from the grip of his gnarled-grubby fingers.
    ‘That’ll be all.’
    ‘I will get it back? We’re contracted to
carry out maintenance and someone is going to need to clean up the mess.’
    ‘Of course. I’ll drop the key in at the CSI
Lab. Contact Tracy Gibbons after twenty-four hours.’ Nancy put the key in the
door and took out her notebook. ‘Just give me your details and I’ll pass them
on to Tracy so she’ll know who you are.’
    ‘Jason Kelly.’
    She made her notes and then turned to the
officer and said, ‘That’s it, you can go, we’re finished here now.’
    He tipped his cap to her and headed for the
stairway, followed by the janitor.
    Just about to turn the key in the lock, a
firm tap her shoulder caught her by surprise.
    A jolt in her chest hit her like a
sledgehammer, as if she was about to go into cardiac arrest. Waves of fear
washed through her, like a mild electric shock. It was as near an out of body
experience as she had ever experienced. She twisted around.

Chapter 3
    Two
marine types, one with blond close-cropped hair, the other with a similar
style, but with black hair, faced Nancy. Both were wearing dark suits, starched
shirts and blue ties. The one with blond hair thrust a badge in her face. The
shield had a government stamp and she could make out the letters ‘CIA.’
    ‘Who are you?’ Blondie asked.
    The neurons in her brain didn’t seem to
want to connect with her vocal chords and she thrust out her chest to show them
her badge hanging over the top pocket of her jacket.
    ‘I asked who you were, not to give us a
flash of ya tits, lady.’
    Bastard . Her
quaking body returned to normality at the indignity of the remark, but she
sensed, once again, her cheeks rouging.
    ‘Detective Nancy Roberts, LAPD robbery and
homicide. Do you always creep up behind people?’ The bulges under their jackets
indicated they were packing shoulder holsters and they were wearing curly
communication leads running from their ears. ‘CIA gone green?’
    ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
    ‘Just looking at those curly things running
from your ears; is that what connects a battery to your brains; except, I think
yours needs re-charging in the charm department of your frontal lobe.’
    The guy with the black hair almost managed
a smile.
    ‘You