prologue
Detective Vigo advanced across the wooden deck of the Yacht, ducking under the crime scene tape and progressing towards the room where she had been called over to earlier by nine A.M. while she still tried to close down her older case and keep the newer cases rolling. ‘What have we got?’
‘Catherine Stones, aged twenty-five, found dead by her husband, Harry Styles, earlier this morning: corpse shows she has been here for around five hours.’ Her co-worker gave her a sly look as they walked by the police and finally checked into the suite to have a walk-through examination. The body had been draped over the bed, blood splattered on the thin, white sheets, the curtains widely spread open with sun rays running through the glass and onto the pale skin. Detective Vigo steps closer and inspects the brick red locks sprawled across her cheeks, smeared make up and faint bruises on her upper arm and neck.
‘Was there any other person apart from her husband by the time police arrived?’
‘Apparently, they had invited friends for an overnight sail and had just come back when he had noticed his wife was dead,’ Klaus had twisted his brow before continuing, ‘I wonder why the FBI didn’t take over.’ So thought Sarah as she tried to figure out what happened, taking few steps back to analyze the scene. At that moment, she realized the murder hadn’t happened there, or else, there could have been some scattering of furniture or blood around to show the killing was done there.
‘It hadn’t taken place here.’ In seconds, she goes back to looking at the body, especially the face, to realize, since the mascara had been smeared, the victim must’ve been crying. ‘She wasn’t killed while in bed; come over here, Klaus, look at the side of her dress, it is torn, as though she was dragged all the way from—‘ she turned away and sprinted towards the exit, following her instincts and studying the wood as she walked, hoping to spot some blood. And there she sees it, right by the metallic railing, blood dashed on the edge and mainly on the plank. ‘There had been a fight, right here.’
‘What is going on?’ a man is rushed with scattered curly hair and tired eyes hidden by sunglasses.
‘Mr. Styles?’ He nods.
‘Your wife had been murdered right here.’
Author's note: TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK xx VOTE!
