Turtle Island
pre-mortem. See how
uniform they are. It’s almost as though the victim’s lips have been
cut off.’
    O’Neil was zipping up the bag and telling Frusco to ship the
body to the morgue for an autopsy as Montoya and LaPortiere
arrived.
    Divers continued to swim around the shallow marshlands; some
policemen, dressed in waders like Leroy's, fished around with their
hands, searching the silt bed.
    ‘Agent O’Neil, May I introduce you to my two leading
investigators on this case. Detective Rick Montoya and Detective
Leroy LaPortiere.’
    Rick smiled and offered his hand. He enjoyed the firm contact
of Agent O’Neil grip through the latex glove she was wearing. She
pulled at it and snapped it off to shake Leroy's hand. Leroy
grinned like an imbecile, pleased to be one up on his friend and
partner. The first to make physical contact with her flesh. Such
little matters were all a part of a long playing game between the
two men.
    ‘Gentlemen, I am here from the FBI Behavioural Science Unit to
help build a profile of our perpetrator.’ She held up her hands. ‘I
am not here to tread on your toes or undermine any aspect of your
work or the investigation. I think this manner of co-operation will
best be suited to working together to achieve our common goal, i.e.
catching Charlie Madman. Any questions?’
    Leroy was rubbing his nose but secretly sniffing the perfume
transferred from O’Neil’s hand during their introduction. ‘Is that
Clinique?’
    Georgina looked Leroy coldly in the eye. ‘I think its rotting
dead man.’
    Rick allowed a smirk to spread across his face.
    ‘Good, first things first, where can I get a beer and what's
the best motel in the area that falls within a $50 a night
budget?’
     

Chapter
Five
     
    She was expecting the knock at the door. One beer, a shower
and a change of clothes later, Georgina O’Neil was ready for a
hectic briefing session, even though it was late in the evening she
felt it would give a good opportunity to become aquatinted with
Detectives Montoya and LaPortiere. The air conditioning unit
crackled and hummed annoyingly but it did at least alter the air
quality to something more like that of her native Virginia. She
pulled the door open and stepped in to the oven like furnace of a
Missouri summer night. LaPortiere greeted her and walked with her
to the car. Montoya was driving. She climbed into the back seat and
was surprised when LaPortiere joined her.
    ‘Things have been happening since this afternoon.’ Leroy said
‘It would seem our friend has already taken his next
victim.’
    Rick briefly looked over his shoulder and joined the
conversation. ‘Stephen England; reported missing by his girlfriend.
He hasn't shown for work for six days. It might be co-incidence but
nothing ever happens here. Nothing and now this.’ He turned around
and settled into his seat before starting the car. The Chrysler's
tyres spun slightly on the shingle car park drive before gripping
and pulling away; moving away from Turtle Island and back onto the
mainland and Missouri.
    ‘This may be the break we need,’ O’Neil said ‘unless he's had
a change of heart, at some point he'll have to dump the body. So
who was the John Doe we pulled out of the river
earlier?’
    ‘Still a John Doe, there’s no local report of anyone else
missing.’ Rick replied, as he turned right onto the freeway. A
large bug splattered against the windscreen, a small explosion of
blood and green goo. ‘But it’s only a matter of time.’
    ‘The preliminary autopsy report came through the system
earlier tonight.’ Leroy fished through a black folio bag and pulled
out a folder, which he handed to Agent Georgina O’Neil.
    The car sped along the highway passing thick wooded forests
and wetlands. Georgina read the document. The two men continued the
journey in silence both of them lost in concentration.
    The car doors echoed as they shut in the near empty car park.
Night staff was down to a minimum and what police

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