[b]"I guess there'll always be cops like that around."[/b] Rhiannon said, answering Enrique's description of the desk officer. Even across the pond it seemed like things were pretty much the same; a few cops trying their best to make the city they worked in a better place, a few on the dole from the bigger fish who always escaped the nets and those who turned up for work hoping to get through the day as quickly as possible. Sadly the former group were the least numerous and rarely did their enthusiasm and passion survive for long before giving way to cynicism and defeatism like those around them. She noticed that Enrique had opened one of the windows, presumably finding the temperature of her car too high. She flicked a few switches, turning the air con to face only the driver and turning off his heated seat. [b]"Sorry, I'm still used to British temperatures. It rains a hell of a lot but it's not nearly as cold as here, even in the dead of winter."[/b] She spun the wheel to the right, pressing down on the clutch as she shifted into a higher gear before hitting the accelerator a bit harder. The engine roared throatily as the car shot forwards smoothly and without the jerkiness of lesser cars; she had always enjoyed the smooth transition between luxury road car into sports speedster that her BMW represented. It had come in a handy a few times as well, when the traffic in London wasn't completely gridlocked that was. [b]"It's the same in a lot of places. Back home I worked in the Serious Crime Unit but that mostly just meant homicides. Any whiff of a serial [i]anything[/i] and the landed on our desks too. Arson, rape, murder. Just about anything that looked to be the start of the spree and we were the ones to get to the bottom of it. I've seen my share of humanity's dark side and I'm glad to get down to some more garden variety murders. It'll be a holiday from the work I'm used to but at least I can still give closure and justice for the victims."[/b] As they entered a tunnel the sound of the engine echoed in the nearly empty space, rebounding endlessly until it sounded like a pack of mechanical lions was powering them back into the morning light. Enrique began speaking again but stopped short of revealing... something. The half-hearted question and the lack of mention from where he had been before suggested to her there was some back story there but seeing as they were only just starting out as partners it would not be prudent to pry, Rhiannon decided. [i]Sometimes it's hard for a cop to turn off. I guess that's why so many of the vets are divorced.[/i] He directed her off the highway and she shifted down a gear, spinning the wheel sharply. The nose of the car complied swiftly, shooting them down the exit ramp with no drama at all, the roar of the engine dulling into a low growl as it retreated back into a leisurely pace. There were no other cars, everyone from this kind of neighbourhood would have already travelled into the city centre for their identical office jobs; a perfect match for their identical houses and eerily similar housewives. Rhiannon wondered whether that was why there always so many affairs in this kind of district; did they just mix up the houses and faces and only realise later they were in the wrong bed with the wrong woman or man? [b]"I'll just turn around up here, there's no rush."[/b] She said, mulling over what to reveal to her fellow detective. The obvious reason was trauma but that would hardly foster much in the way of expectation from a leader, no matter how experienced. [b]"I guess it's more common for you and the Americans to exchange staff. I have family out here and the London job was getting a bit... weary. This place is tiny compared to back there and far less corrupt; mostly because it's not quite so rich. I think I'll be able to cope with a little bit of dirt."[/b] Her words were meant as a mild reproof for his patronising words, whether they were well meant or not. As a woman she had had to cope with disrespect, whether intentional or not, everywhere in her chosen career and had learned to deal with it in a measured way. The BMW slid gracefully to a stop just outside the house, two official police cruisers outside with lights flashing. One of the cops was sitting in the car with the door open while in the other were two civilians, a man approaching middle age and his young daughter, who were presumably witnesses or family members to the deceased. Enrique apparently knew the officer in the first vehicle, heading over to talk to him. Rhiannon took her time, observing the area and trying to get a feel for what kind of neighbourhood it was. All she managed to get was a sense of plain; there was no character whatsoever to the place. It was a bit numbing. Enrique returned, his face a little paler and his speech less sure as he gave her an update before asking what their next step would be. That was the first major show he had made in accepting her leadership and it pleased Rhiannon that her experience was giving credibility to her position. [b]"We go in, Detective. Gloves on."[/b] She replied, handing him a pair of blue gloves before striding towards the porch, pulling her own pair on as she did so. The officer at the door also looked slightly queasy but managed to nod a greeting before pushing the door open. [b]"Where's the ME?"[/b] Rhiannon asked the officer who shook his head. [b]"Inside, ma'am. Not sure with which bit of the body though."[/b] [i]Ah.[/i] [h2][i][b]The Crime Scene[/b][/i][/h2] Rhiannon was beginning to get a sense of why these supposedly veteran officers were all looking shaken and ill. Steeling herself she pushed on into the house, stopping short to observe the wood-floored hallway. It was wide and open, a staircase directly ahead wide enough for two people abreast like a cut-price grand staircase. It had a landing on the first floor which led into corridors on both the left and right. The ground floor had three doors leading from it, one on either side and a small door at the rear. The place had a feeling of attempted class, trying to show wealth and power but on a small budget and miniature-size. Hearing sounds of movement from the room to the right she headed towards the doorway, stepping around a red splatter on the ground marked with a yellow sign with the number sixteen upon it. It was [i]very[/i] rare for those signs to go into double digits which concerned her. Inside the living room a woman; pale, brunette and looking to be in her late thirties wearing uniform scrubs; was kneeling on a once cream-coloured rug now splattered with a deep red-brown colour. A stony-faced assistant was stood in a half-crouch next to her holding an open evidence bag open for her. At the sounds of footsteps they both looked up, the assistant apparently relieved at the distraction. [b]"Detective, you got her quick."[/b] The woman had a hint of an accent, the softness usually denoting someone who spoke a tongue like French as their first or dual-first language, but still spoke with matter-of-fact tone suggesting she had been in the job for quite some time. Rhiannon nodded a greeting, joining her by the body part they were studying. It was the lower arm and hand of a white woman, pale with a slight hint of blueness. Glancing at the blood stain Rhiannon noted the darkness of the colour. [b]"Rhiannon Jones, pleasure to meet you, Doctor."[/b] She said, pressing on the carpet and observing the stain. [b]"I'm guessing we don't have a particularly accurate time of death yet?"[/b] She spoke with experience and the ME raised an eyebrow in mild surprise. [b]"Guess you didn't just come up from patrol then, huh?"[/b] The ME gestured to the dismembered arm, pointing to the ring on the finger. [b]"I won't be able to give you much until we're back in the morgue but the victim's a white female, Caucasian. One of the patrolmen has the statements but I can tell you that this was all done post-mortem."[/b] Rhiannon looked up, a little surprised. [b]"But she's been dead for a while, right? Judging by the colour of the blood and the corpse..."[/b] She trailed off as the ME raised an eyebrow at the interruption but still looked mildly impressed. [b]"It's difficult to tell because of the rapid loss of blood but I can give you a rough time of death of about... three to four days. Once I get the body together and on a slab I can give you more information. As for [i]cause[/i] of death... I haven't found that particular body part yet. I don't have an identity yet but it seems likely to be the wife of the house owner, out in the cruiser with his little daughter."[/b] [b]"Alright, thanks. Let me know once you've got something more."[/b] Turning to Enrique she gestured that they leave the room and the ME to do her job. Once out in the cold, fresh air she exhaled heavily; letting the tension out of her body. [b]"Your friend was right, this is a nasty one. I'll take a look around at the rest of the house in a minute. Why don't you start by talking to the the house owner and his daughter?"[/b] She turned to go back into the house, pausing for a moment to offer a brief piece of advice. [b]"With homicides... just treat them like any other case. Only the motives are different. Don't give them any more details than they need to know, let them give up as much information as possible. And remember, we don't know the victim's identity yet, it might not be his wife. Probably is though."[/b] With that she went back in the bloodbath of the house with a thoughtful expression.