Page 45 of Girl, Unmasked
‘This picture.Martina’s got a boyfriend.Nine times out of ten…’
‘It’s the partner.’
‘Yeah, but look closer,’ Ella said.‘All these other photos are recent.Brand new, practically still wet from the darkroom.But this one’s old.’
‘So?’
‘On-again, off-again, I'd bet.’
Mia’s eyebrows shot up so fast they were in danger of escaping velocity.‘You think?’
‘This picture's old.Look at the grain, the faded colors.All these other shots are recent.They’re crisp, clear, probably taken on a smartphone.So why's she only got one picture with Romeo here, and why's it ancient history?’
Mia said, ‘He’s on the bitch bench.’
‘She’s not committed.She keeps him around, sure, but he's not making the cut for the new photo album.’
‘Boomerang boytoy.We’ll need to talk to him.If this police thing doesn’t work out, you could be a relationship counsellor.’
Ella ignored the jab.She made a mental note to track down this mysterious stranger then turned away from the kitchen.She alighted on the sofa and coffee table in the adjacent living room.It was strewn with papers and what appeared to be the entire contents of Office Depot.
She moved closer.There were sheafs of loose-leaf, covered in the scrawl of teenage angst.A dog-eared copy ofThe Bell Jarand stacked haphazardly atop it all, a pile of workbooks – red canvas covers emblazoned with 'English Literature' in bold, no-nonsense font.
Ella’s frown deepened as she snagged the topmost book.She flipped it open to a random page.Tenth grade, from the looks of it.
‘Mia, look, our vic was an English teacher.’
‘First vic worked in publishing, second vic teaches English.Sounds like a pattern to me.’
‘Literature.Maybe Martina Payne rejected our unsub too, just like Sophie did.’
Ripley moved over to the door that led out onto the balcony.‘We need to find out what school Martina worked at, check every student she’s ever taught.Looks like the cavalry’s here.’
‘That was fast.’Ella joined Ripley at the balcony door.On the parking lot below, a sea of uniformed officers were ushering every stray body beyond the gates and round the corner.‘Now the coast is clear, maybe we could pay our respects to the victim in person.’
Ripley opened the balcony door.‘After you.’
Ella stepped out onto the balcony.She was ready to take whatever this twisted maniac could throw at her and keep on swinging, but she quickly discovered that all the grit in the world couldn't prepare her for the sight that greeted her out here.
Martina Payne.English teacher, friend, a lover to someone.Now just a slab of meat dangling from a balcony, displayed like a prize hog at the county fair.
Except no blue ribbon winner ever looked like this.
Martina’s arms stretched wide as if embracing the abyss that yawned beneath her feet.The barbed wire crown bit deep into her forehead and painted her face in streaks of red.Somewhere beyond the parking lot, streetlights sparked to life and bathed the scene in orange light.
‘Good Lord,’ Ripley said.
‘Tell me about it.’
‘What kind of lunatic does this?’Ripley gently reached over the balcony railings to the victim dangling below.She touched one of her wrists.‘He’s used handcuffs.Snapped them onto the railings then thrown her overboard.’
Ella's guts performed a gymnastic routine.She'd thought her shock receptors had short-circuited years ago, but this image threatened to kick-start them with a vengeance.
What made a monster like this?What combination of nature, nurture, bad wiring, and worse choices birthed an abomination that could string up a woman like a rag doll and leave her for the world to see?
She shook her head and shook off the revulsion.Then she leaned over, nose to nose with their crucified corpse.This close she could count every pore, every split end and smudged eyelash.The glassy stare, fixed on nothing and no one.
‘Think these cuffs are police issue?’Ella asked.
