The Red Light Girls (Unsolved Mysteries Book 2) Kim Knight (best romance novels of all time txt) 📖

Madeline ended the call and flopped back onto the lumpy sofa. Her eyes moved over her old, shabby apartment.

This serial killer needs to be caught, she thought.

She hopped up, headed back to the bathroom to add some lotion to her skin, then dressed in a pair of pyjamas.

Settling herself at her laptop, Madeline pulled up her earlier Google search and read through each link in detail. She even jotted down a few key notes.

From what she had gathered online, it appeared as if all the girls—Ana De Jog, Lotte Van De Berg, Fenna Bakker and Zoe Van Dyk—were all, in some way or another—linked to the city’s Red Light district.

I need to head down to the district again sometime this week and see what else I can find out.

She sat back in her chair in contemplation.

How can the police not pick up on this? Or am I jumping to conclusions?

Like Chris had said, they would not divulge everything they know to the general public and place the suspect at an advantage.

Logging off of Google, she pulled up a Word document with a half-finished article.

Earlier in the day, she had focused on covering other aspects of news around the city. She named it, saved it, and closed it down. Opening a fresh document, she started to write an article to submit to the editor of De Telegraaf, highlighting the link she had discovered between the Red Light Girl’s disappearances.

9

The Coroner’s Office

Dr. Cleveland

The Following Morning…

Dr. Cleveland pulled his mask over his mouth and nose, then adjusted the overhead light above the cadaver exam table. Just as always, he lowered his head, and said a few words of respect for the deceased.

After almost fifteen years in this line of work, the routine never changed, only the bodies.

Reaching for a pair of latex gloves on the table to his left, he slid them on, then pulled back the white vail sheet, to reveal who he would be working on.

His eyes roamed over the female cadaver on the table, looking for obvious signs of what could have led her to her demise. He noted the puncture wounds on her neck, highlighted by red blotches. Picking up the camera, he adjusted the flash, then took a picture of her profile.

He leaned in closer to inspect the wound. There was dried blood from what his naked eye could make out, so he noted this and planned to swab the area.

Plucking his pencil from behind his ear, he reached out for his clipboard, then circled around the table.

“Height, uhm…five-foot-two at a guess.” To be sure, he dug deep into the pocket of his gown and pulled out a tape measure.

He placed one end by the head of the woman, and made his way down to her feet.

“Not a bad guess. Five-foot-four. I’ve been doing this too long,” he said with a chuckle, then placed the tape measure back in his pocket and focused on his clipboard.

Though the bifocal section of his glasses, he glanced at the list information on the official form. One by one, started to check off the routine items.

“Okay, name—Suzy Chan. Sex—female. Age. Hmmm, mid-thirties. Ethnicity.” Dr. Cleveland glanced down at the woman. “Asian-Chinese.” And he ticked the box.

Gently, and with the utmost care, he lifted one of her eye lids.

“Eye colour—dark brown. Hair colour—dark brown with blonde colouring. Tattoos? Hmm. Let’s see.”

He placed the clipboard down, stuck his pencil behind his ear, then took some time to examine the body face up. Her clothing had already been removed for the forensic examination.

Hmm. Single pierced ears. He recorded that bit of information.

At a closer glance of her head, face, neck, chest, and arms, he saw no visible signs of body art, tattoos, or cosmetic alterations of any kind. A quick check of her navel, revealed there was no piercing there. He eased her over onto her side and saw no tattoos or markings along her back either.

“Nope. Nada.” He placed her down, then reached over to his clipboard. With his pencil he made a smooth swipe on the box to confirm that there was no presence of any other body art except the single ear piercings.

He looked over his spectacles at her face. It was bloated, and she appeared pale.

“Okay. What happened to you Suzy? Talk to me.” He made his way over to the station where his medical swaps were.

“Just like all the other girls, you ended up here, too,” he called over his shoulder. “I’ve seen too many this last year, I tell ya.”

Dr. Cleveland grabbed a few supplies—swaps, cotton wool, plastic containers, and tweezers. He made his way to the table, placed the items on a tray, then focused in on the neck area of the body where he noted the puncture marks and blotches. He adjusted the lamp to focus in, and as he did, his eyes widened.

“Bingo.” Tweezers in hand, he plucked a hair from her upper body by her shoulder. It was mixed in with her own shoulder length hair. “No this doesn’t look like it belongs to you, little lady.”

He held the hair up to the light for a closer examination.

“Too short. Too light. Nope.” He shook his head. “Not yours.”

Carefully, he dropped the evidence into an open plastic container, then firmly screwed on the lid.

“Now, where were we? Ah, yes. Looks like your neck took a lot of impact. But with what?”

He leaned back down and drew the light closer to her neck. Gently, he pushed her hair away and checked for any further stray hairs. There were none, at least, not that his neck eye could see. Turning the head of the body to the right, he exposed the true glare of the red blotches and puncture marks. Two holes stood at attention.

“I was wrong, Suzy.” A sigh left his lips. “This is a full puncture.”

The skin had been torn. Without moving his eyes from the area, his hand located a swab that he swiped over the torn skin and