Gone

Chapter 1

Seventy-five stabs. 

He enjoyed it. He relished the squish of the knife entering through her soft flesh and the satisfying crimson daubing it.

A man who was so loving and tender to his wife, all of a sudden dared to push the knife through her and he was amused by it. 

Detective Kendrick was sick with perplexity. He wanted -needed- to understand how something like this could happen.

He looked at the case file in his hand for the hundredth time. “MURDER CASE #295” he flipped through the pages and even though he could recite each letter present in them, he always stopped at one page, a page that triggered conflicting thoughts to overflow in his head. “Victim: SARAH ANDERSON” was written in bold on top “29 years old.”

Kendrick skimmed over the page till the part he had underlined in red. “She was diagnosed with diabetes.” He had scribbled above that with the same red pen “Thirsty at night” underlined three times. Kendrick read the words underlined over and over again, hoping he could perhaps understand anything. He was trying to find a grain of logic in this nonsensical case.

Kendrick took his steady sounding steps towards the dark house that towered over him with yellow tape wrapped around it and “DO NOT ENTER” written on it in bold.

He looked at the house and imagined how warm it could have been in the past, imagery of a happy family passed through his head, and small taps of two happy little feet running around spreading giggles.

The house was grand, indicating a well grounded, high paying job. “A big well known businessman.” Kendrick remembered from the case’s file. The yard around the house was the colour of sickening olive, with a small empty pool in the back. On the edges of the house there were signs of dead unattended flowers, that had once been colourful and breathing fragrance.

The detective continued his steady steps and the more he got closer to the front door, the more he smelled the faint smell of rot; a smell his occupation forced him to get accustomed to. Kendrick bent down and passed under the tapes, and although he didn’t have to, as he was very well known, he held his badge out as he entered.

He had already received pictures of the murder scene, but he insisted on seeing everything himself. Kendrick followed the guidance of the officers till he reached what seemed like the kitchen. That was where the dark dry trail of blood had started, trailing all the way to the back door. The detective followed the trail to find a woman laying lifeless on the floor. The corpse of a woman who had once been a daughter, a wife, and a mother. She had been so close to escape, but apparently not fast enough. He stood by her, breathing the odorous metallic smell of her blood.

Beside the detective the officers explained how their investigation was going so far, but all their words where muted by Kendrick’s train of thought as it went with resounding clickity-clacks unable to find a destination. The officers’ blabbering was irrelevant to the detective, they had already sent him all this gathered information.

The detective stood with his eyes glued to the corpse; who had been Sarah. He could not take his eyes off of her, he did not even bat an eyelash, as if the moment he blinked, all clues would fly into thin air and escape from his grasp. He noted in his head every detail he could find. She was wearing a short night gown, though now teared and stained with dry blood. Her feet were bare and her knees were smeared. From the pictures that were sent to him, he knew that on her back there was a horizontal red line.

The detective kneeled by her body and held her hand examining it. Her nails were all broken and a small piece of flesh was trapped. It was a sign of resistance, and the detective was glad to find the flesh of the murderer as a solid clue. He looked at her neck, it had a faint red line wrapped around it. “As you can see, detective,” an annoying familiar voice approached the detective. 

Kendrick looked up at who had addressed him. “Our theory is the only realistic and believable one.” The blond man said proudly with a hint of mock in his voice. “They had a fight that went too far.” The man smirked seating his hands into his pockets.

Blood rose to Kendrick’s face as he glared at the man. He never understood how this man could always be so utterly retarded that his mere presence had always made the detective feel nauseous.

“Victor, you never cease to amaze me” Kendrick rose to his feet. “Tell me, would you stab your wife seventy-five times over a fight?” the detective demanded with his strong voice as he crossed his arms and impatiently looked at Victor.

“I am not married-” 

“Yes, of course no woman would pity herself to accept you as a husband, we all know that. Now, Victor, I am here to do my job, not to make silly assumptions that a twelve-year old could best. So please, Victor, shut your mouth and let me do my job, you’re blocking my brainstorming.” Kendrick glowered monotonically and emphasized his last sentence. His expression could drive the earth to open up and swallow Victor if it could. “Now that we’ve left this blabbering behind, let me tell you what happened to this poor soul. Her death was not accidental, it was planned.” He said in a matter of a fact heading back to the kitchen leaving the officers standing beside the body, attentive.

He frowned at them wondering how they couldn’t figure it out already. “Sarah, our victim was diagnosed with diabetes, yes?” he received slight nods from the officers while Victor rolled his eyes. “It means she had to wake up at night and drink water, an expected action and a perfect opportunity for a murder in the dark.” The detective was speaking in a quick pace forcing everyone to pay as much attention as possible.

“So a planned murder caused after a fight? I don’t see much difference from our theory.” Victor snorted as he looked at his teammates for a reaction.

Kendrick felt himself fuming. He hated interruption. “Well, Victor, for once I’m glad you asked.”  Kendrick sneered.

“It seems that you want me to prove your stupidity to all the officers in town. I’ll tell you why I believe this couple did not fight. In the bedroom upstairs, only in Sarah’s side of the bed the blankets are in place while in his side they were kicked off. Sarah obviously snuck out of bed, carefully, so that she wouldn’t bother her sleeping husband. Too caring for an angry wife, am I right? Nevertheless, look at her gown and necklace. She was wearing these items, which were gifts from her husband according to his credit card. The time of death was two A.M. so obviously she had time to change if they had really fought.”

Everyone looked at Victor in pity, it wasn’t first time he had been in a situation like this. “Now, docs , I want you to search for any admissible clue that may tell us why he did it. The rest come with me, we’re going to help the search teams. I want to find him alive. I need to know why he did it.”