Killing Dreams ~An American Victorian Steampunk Murder Mystery

Chapter 4 Part 3

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Bill carefully brushed away enough of the snow to see where the woman’s arm lay against the icy ground then tenderly grasped her exposed hand, moving it back and forth at the wrist.

     “The short answer is at least three days,” Bill replied. “But I'll let my wife explain the details.”

     Patches crossed her arms and was silent for a moment while she searched her memory. She knew her husband would have the answer but knew Bill was giving her an opportunity to reinforce her own intelligence to the Captain.

     “There is no evidence of rigor in the body so we know that the time of death was either less than twelve hours or more than three days because that’s how long it takes for the onset and dissipation of rigidity in the limbs,” she said with a sideways glance to her husband.  Bill gave an almost imperceptible nod of his head encouraging her to continue.

     “It appears the body has been lying in one position since death as evidenced by the pooling of blood along the lower side of the corpse, and given the amount of snow covering her I’d estimate the longer period of time,” she concluded with a little nod, confident she had gotten it correctly.

     “I concur,” Bill said turning to Peter, slightly raising one eyebrow.

     “As do I,” Peter said without hesitation. “Good one Patches!”

     “Thank you, Peter,” she said looking a bit smug. “I try.”

     Weston grumbled something about asking questions and stormed off toward the groups of on-lookers that were gawking nearby.

      “Of course now we have a bit of a problem,” Peter said gaining his feet. “It seems she’s stuck in there pretty good. If we don’t want to take any chances on damaging her we need to figure a way to thaw her out. Do you have any ideas?”

     Bill stood, taking a good look around. “Let’s see what we have at our disposal.”

     “Bill, I’m going to start setting up for photographs,” Patches informed him with a touch to his elbow. By way of acknowledgement Bill returned her touch and nodded.

     “Excuse me, Sergeant?” she said coming up beside Haddock.

      He looked down at her, “Ma’am?”

     “I need to take some photographs, would you allow me to recruit one of your men to help me carry my equipment please?”

     “Certainly,” he replied, “this way.”

     She walked with him to the twins who stood at attention when they saw them approach. “Missus McDowell, this is Officers Thaddeus and Theodore Thompson,” he said gesturing to each of them as he said their names. “Tad, Ted, this is Missus McDowell. She needs help carrying some equipment. Make sure she is taken care of.”

     “Yes Sergeant!” the officers said in unison.

     “Hello boys,” Patches said with a radiant smile. The two men before her were obviously identical twin brothers with shocks of red hair, barrel chests and lean in the leg. Two pair of sparkling blue eyes smiled at her. She eyed them closely; looking for the one anomaly she knew would be there. Once she found it she extended her hand to the one on her left.

     “It’s nice to meet you Thaddeus,” she said.

     He grinned and shook her hand. She then extended her hand to the one on her right.
     “I’m happy to meet you too Theodore,” she was grinning now herself. Theodore shook her hand vigorously.

     “Call me Ted please Ma’am,” he said. “This is my brother.”

     “You can call me Tad,” the other one continued. “Where do you need us?”

     “This way,” she said stepping out into the street and leading them to Lachman’s ambulance.

      Bill looked up just in time to see his wife heading for the ambulance flanked by the twins and thought that outside of his own arms there was no safer place for her. He turned back to the task at hand, but was distracted by a long flash of light coming across from behind him. Turning once more he realized that Patches had opened the rear doors of the ambulance thus reflecting the light of the sun from one of the glass panels.

     “Peter,” he said just then struck with a solution. “I don’t suppose the skylight in your ambulance is removable, is it?”

     “As a matter of fact,” Peter returned absently, his mind still churning over possibilities for freeing the body, “it is, mostly to make it easier to clean. Why?”

     Before Bill could answer he followed Bill’s line of sight and caught the flash of light just as Patches was closing the door.

TO BE CONTINUED...

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