Song Stories (Part 1)

Chapter 9

20XX/10/03 – Morning

With a solemn expression he looked down on the young woman's corpse that lay in front of him. Her clothes were tethered and stained with blood from the at least a dozen cuts her body had sustained. It had once been an elegant outfit, business like, classy - but without seeming prude. Maybe she had worked in an office, but not the ordinary, boring kind. One that had its employees not only sit behind a desk and receive calls but had them deal with other people or had them go out in the open too. Her style of dress and make-up suggested she had needed to present herself but without losing respect or credibility. Had she been a sales-person?

Hm? What's that?

An object to his feet caught Leon's attention. He crouched down to get a better look at it. It was a black fountain pen. Pulling out a handkerchief from his pocket, he carefully picked it up, avoiding the potential destruction of any fingerprints on it. Upon closer inspection he made out an engraving of some kind. It was the name of a newspaper agency together with a phone number.
Might as well...
The officer pulled out his phone and quickly typed the number written on the pen. A second later the dial tone could be heard from the other side. It didn't take long before a female voice answered. He had reached the agency's secretary and after a short exchange of words he got passed on to the boss.

"Meredith Ramirez speaking. You requested to talk with me?"
"Ah, Ms. Ramirez. Yes, that's right. This is Detective Matthews-"
"A detective? My, what business does the police have with my agency?"
"Well, you see Ms. Ramirez, this is a bit of a delicate matter. And I would only reluctantly like to discuss the details on the phone with you. Would it be possible for me to talk to you directly some time today?" There was a pause on the other side and Leon could hear the shuffling sound of paper.
"Hm, yes... How does 2 pm sound Detective?"
"That would be perfect. Thank you, Ms. Ramirez. I will see you in the afternoon then." They exchanged goodbyes and soon after he hung up the call. Leon took another look at the pen in his hand. Had our victim been a journalist?

"Leon! Any suggestions on this one yet?"
"Urgh..." A pained grunt came from the man in the blue police uniform as his superior hit his shoulder with more force than had been necessary. He quickly pushed the object he had held in his hand into the pocket of his jacket before addressing the detective.

[...]

With a nod Leon watched his superior stalk off. Feeling a little exhausted from the conversation, he let out a sigh before turning back towards the corpse. That's when his blue eyes caught sight of a woman sneaking around behind the broad stone pillars that supported the abandoned building. He scoffed to himself in disbelief. These reporters are getting more and more audacious these days. How did this one even make it past the tape?

"Hey, Miss! This is a crime scene." He called out.
The brunette flinched in surprise at being caught red-handed and her head turned into the direction his voice had come from. She nervously wiped her hands on her blue pair of jeans before giving him a charming smile. "Heh, yeah, well. I know." She shouted, trying hard to sound nonchalant.
"Oh? Well, great, if you know, then what are you doing here?"

Seemingly deeming his question as an invitation to come closer she stepped towards him, as she rummaged inside her pockets. Leon raised an eyebrow as she pulled out a notepad before hurriedly stuffing it back with a frustrated groan. Hm? Is she missing something to write?
Then he understood.
Oh, is that how it is? Could she really have made a simple mistake like that? Well, they all slip up at one point sooner or later... Heh, I guess this one fits the "return to the scene of the crime" stereotype. If I'm correct that is. Guess there's only one way to find out.