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Interlude II: Crime Scene:

“She’s dead.” The blond policeman said to his companion when he entered the room.
The older man surveyed the room. Luckily, the fire that had made the neighbourgs call the firefighters was extinguised before it affected the rest of the house. The living-room, where they had found the body, was a nice room, with clear white walls and a soft green carpet, now soaked with blood. The woman lay between the fireplace and one of the big, flowered couches. Somebody had fun with her, he thought. The body was crossed with knife wounds, and her killer had almost sewered her head out. Carefully, the older cop got near the body and examined some of her wounds. He would need the forensic confirmation, but at first look they didn’t seem mortal… well, the throat one yes, but the others… If they were done before she was killed, like it seemed, she must have suffered a lot. Didn’t she scream? The neighbours didn’t think something was wrong until they saw the smoke, and they weren’t so far away… He looked around again, and he realized that the windows were double and the walls seemed thick. The house was soundproofed. That explained why nobody had heard the screams. When he was going to look at the body again, he caught a glimpse of a framed picture, settled in a cofee table near the couch, and froze. It was a family portrait, took maybe some summer. The Indian woman, that now lay dead next to him, was smiling in the picture, dressed with denim shorts and a brown top. Her hands rested on a man’s shoulders. The police officer recognized the man. He hadn’t took part in the arrest, but he had seen him in the news and in headquarters. He cursed himself, he should have recognized the house. And the bosses should have protected the ex-wife, damn it, she was the only witness. But that, even as important as it was, wasn’t what had made him froze. In the portrait, one sitting in Logan’s lap and the other standing next to Silver Fox, were two Asian girls, one a teenager and the other about ten years old. Sighing, the cop stood up. Maybe she had sent the girls with a family member or a friend when her husband was arrested. That was the logical thing to do, and he had heard rumours that they were hiding, but then again, why was she here?
“Adam, make a call to headquarters. I want to know why Mrs. Howlett was here, and where are her daughters. Stay here and protect the crime scene until the forensic and the criminologist get here. I’m going to look around the house.”
“Ok, Matt.” Nodded the younger cop, hand already raising the radio towards t
his mouth.
Matt went out of the living room and stuck his head in the basement, where the firefighters were making sure all was controlled.
“Buck, need to talk to you later, wait for me, ok?” He yelled towards downstairs.
“No, I need to talk to you, and now!” The firefighters’ captain shouted back at him.
The cop grunted and frowned, hoping that Buck and his boys hadn’t found what he was afraid they would find. He looked at the stairs leading to the second floor and then back at the basement.
“Gimme five minutes, Buck. Need to look around the house.”
With that, the cop went upstairs, almost taking the steps two by two. He reached the hallway and noticed that the four doors were open. Matt took out his gun and looked into the first room. The woman and her husband’s room. The walls were painted in a sweet cream color, and the wooden floor was covered in Asian carpets. Both the king sized bed and the big closet seemed handmade. Near the wall opposite to the closet, there was an expositor with a katana, a wabizasi and a tanto. Matt made a mental note to himself to remember the criminalists to take those as posible evidence. He also needed to find out if the daughters were adopter or biologically his, since the man seemed a little Asian-obsessed. Because it was clear for him that almost all the things in the room were Logan’s. If it wasn’t for the woman dead in the living-room and the open suitcase, half full of woman’s clothes that rested on the bed, he could have thought that only a man lived there. Strange, indeed. Well, the bag answered one question: Silver Fox was packing for run away. But, why hadn’t she done that earlier? And why wasn’t she protected?
Carefully, Matt opened the door to the atached bathroom. Big and country-like, with clear green tiles and old fashioned bathtub and sink. And, at least, there were sings that a woman lived there. Cosmethic products, a whole lot of them, most almost new and all with one kind or another of strong fragance. Rose, lilacs, lemon… If she used all of them, she should have smelt like a walking perfume aisle. Wasn’t one supposed to pick only one, or at least two fragances and stick with them, just because that? Another strange thing to take note of.
Moving his head, he walked onto the next bedroom. Amiko’s, as a colorful wooden sign proclaimed, hanging in the open door. A little princess’ room, he thought, with pastel coloured walls, carpet and sheets that matched the curtains, lots of stuffed animals and dolls… The only thing that seemed a little odd were the child-made drawings that adorned a wall, near the desk. All of them pictured samurais, some of them with ninjas, too. But, then again, she was probably Japanese, and, given that and her father’s choice of decoration, it was normal. The closet was open, and two bags rested on the bed. The Hello Kitty one was already closed, with some anime girl called Pucca all over it, was open and half full. Matt didn’t know how to feel about the fact that the girl was nowhere to be found.
The bathroom between Amiko’s and the other daughter’s room, Jubilee’s, the sign in the door read, was obviously the one the kids used. Two similar robes, blue, green and yellow, hung next to the tub. Other than that, it was empty.
When Matt entered Jubilee’s room, he thought that, somehow, he had managed to teletransport and end in his teenager daughter, Lucy’s, room. Walls, covered in poster, going from some old N’Sync ones to Evanescense, CDs and magazines scattered everywhere… And two duffel bags, one closed and the other half full. But no girl.
He made sure that there wasn’t another room he hadn’t seen, or an athic, or something, and then went downstairs, slowly. Buck Wills was waiting for him, a frown in his face. Matt thought that it confirmed his fears.
“So, you found the girls, didn’t you?”
“What? No… What girls?” Buck looked absolutely dumbfolded. “I wanted to talk to you about all the explosives we found tucked far enough from the fire to this house go boom. There no girls there, that I can assure you. What the Hell’s happening?”
“Don’t know for sure, Buck, but nothing good… Somebody wanted us to find the dead woman without blowing up the house, there are two girls’ bedrooms with luggage half done but no girls… And, to top it up, it’s the bastard’s house. You know, the one that blew up the kindergarten. She was the ex and witness, the missing girls the daughters…”
“And he’s been missing since noon. Fuck.” Matt only nodded. Things didn’t look good.





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