Silent Scream: An edge of your seat serial killer thriller (Detective Kim Stone crime thriller series Book 1) Read Free

water that was being sloshed around by two white suits.
    The body of the female lay partly submerged. Her eyes were open and her dyed blonde hair was fanned out in the water, framing her face.
    Her body floated, so that the tip of her breasts broke the surface of the water.
    Kim guessed the female to be mid- to-late-forties but well kept. Her upper arms appeared toned but limp flesh hung in the water. Her toenails were painted a soft pink and no stubble showed on her legs.
    The volume of water on the floor indicated that a struggle had taken place and that the woman had fought for her life.
    Kim heard footsteps thundering up the stairs.
    ‘Detective Inspector Stone, a pleasant surprise.’
    Kim groaned, recognising the voice and the sarcasm dripping from the words.
    ‘Detective Inspector Wharton, the pleasure is all mine.’
    The two of them had worked together a few times and her disdain had never been hidden. He was a career officer who wanted to climb the ladder as quickly as possible. He had no interest in solving cases, only adding to his tally.
    His final humiliation had been when she’d made D.I. before he had. Her early promotion had prompted him to move house and transfer to West Mercia; a smaller force with less competition.
    ‘What are you doing here? I think you’ll find this is a West Mercia case.’
    ‘And I think you’ll find it’s right on the border and I got first dibs.’
    Unconsciously, she’d stepped in front of the bath. The victim didn’t need any more curious eyes roving over her naked body.
    ‘It’s my case, Stone.’
    Kim shook her head and folded her arms. ‘I ain’t budging, Tom.’ She tipped her head. ‘We could always make this a joint investigation. I was here first, so I’ll lead.’
    His thin mean face filled with colour. Reporting to her would be done only after gouging out his own eyeballs with a rusty spoon.
    She assessed him from head to toe. ‘And my first instruction would be to enter the crime scene with appropriate protection.’
    He looked down at her feet and then at his own unprotected footwear. More haste, less speed, she thought to herself.
    She lowered her voice. ‘Don’t make this a pissing contest, Tom.’
    He gave her a look filled with contempt before turning and storming out of the bathroom.
    Kim turned her attention back to the body.
    ‘You’d have won,’ Keats said quietly.
    ‘Huh?’
    His eyes danced with amusement. ‘The pissing contest.’
    Kim nodded. She knew.
    ‘Can we get her out of here yet?’
    ‘Just a couple more close ups of her breastbone.’
    As he spoke, one of the forensic officers pointed a camera with a lens the length of an exhaust pipe at the woman’s breasts.
    Kim leaned in closer and saw two marks above each breast.
    ‘Pushed down?’
    ‘I’m thinking so. Preliminary exam shows no other injuries. I’ll tell you more after the post mortem.’
    ‘Any guesses on how long?’
    Kim could see no evidence of the liver probe, so she was guessing he’d used the rectal thermometer before she'd arrived.
    She knew that a body dropped temperature by 1.5 degrees centigrade in the first hour. Normally it was between 1.5 and 1.0 degree centigrade every hour thereafter. She also knew that figure to be affected by many other factors. Not least that the victim was naked and submerged in now-cold water.
    He shrugged. ‘I’ll do further calculations later but I’d say no more than about two hours.’
    ‘When can you ... ’
    ‘I’ve got a ninety-six-year-old lady who expired after falling asleep in her armchair and a twenty-six-year-old male with the needle still in his arm.’
    ‘Nothing urgent then?’
    He checked his watch. ‘Midday?’
    ‘Eight,’ she countered.
    ‘Ten and no earlier,’ he grumbled. ‘I’m human and need occasional rest.’
    ‘Perfect,’ she said. It was the exact time she had in mind. It would give her chance to brief her team and task someone to attend.
    Kim heard more footsteps on the stairs. The