Saturday 7 & Sunday 8 June 2008, & Saturday 7 May 2011
11:14 am Friday 9 May 2008
Initial autopsy results come through. Tox screens show high levels of alcohol and meth-amphetamines in the victim’s blood. Official cause of death is cited as strangulation. Petichial haemorrhaging is present. No evidence of semen although there is extensive damage to her uterus and vagina indicating repeated and aggressive sexual intercourse. Traces of a synthetic, probably nylon, rope around her neck. Hyoid bone is not only broken, but also completely crushed. Bindings on her hands and feet were probably of the same material used to strangle her. While her hands had been tied together, her feet had been tied separately and probably to some sort of posts, so that her lower body was essentially spread-eagled providing easy access for the rapist. And she is clearly minus her heart, which appears to have been cut out with a small blade. Something in the way of a Swiss Army knife. Identification made official. The victim is Kelly Mason. The current theory suggests she was incapacitated, abducted, stripped, bound and gagged, repeatedly and violently raped, strangled with a synthetic rope until she was dead, and then she had her heart cut out. Possibly to be kept as a trophy, or to throw homicide off the track of the real killer by suggesting it was some sort of Satanic ritual killing. Watson’s next comment unnerves everyone in the room, including the seasoned homicide team.
“You ever thought Blake, that the reason you thought Kelly Mason’s friends were dodgy was because they killed Kelly. You said yourself that the story they all told was EXACTLY the same. Word for word. Was it something they figured out before hand?”
11:20 am Friday 9 May 2008
“You’re suggesting Constable Watson, that a group of six female friends killed their friend.” The Senior Sergeant was not only horrified by Watson’s suggestion but also by the words coming from out of his own mouth.
“No Sarge, I’m suggesting that a group of six girls probably drugged and abducted their friend. Took her somewhere isolated and killed her by strangling her to death. I’m suggesting that the stripping, binding and gagging, repeated raping and removal of her heart were all committed after she died to make it seem as though something way more horrible had happened to her. I’m suggesting that their sole intention was to kill Kelly Mason, put the blame on Tim Maloney and get away with murder. But I don’t have a why.”
A homicide detective smiled at Watson’s conjecture. It was highly possibly he said. And as to ever finding out a reason why, if they did it, it was probably ‘just because’. Homicide took little more than an hour to swoop in on Kelly Mason’s six friends, arresting them all on suspicion of murder. Was I convinced that these six girls killed their friend? No, I was not. I just couldn’t put all the pieces together yet. In my experience, nothing ever comes together this nicely. There’s always a glitch to a well thought out theory like Watson’s.
“Sarge, can I have a word? In private.”
12:30 pm Friday 9 May 2008
I told the Senior Sergeant that something didn’t sit right with me. I wasn’t convinced that these girls were the ones who murdered Kelly Mason.
“And it’s got something to do with Tim Maloney’s disappearance, and with Dave Mason’s disappearance. And with the B and E at my house.”
He sat looking at me as if I was some sort of strange animal that he’d never seen before. And then, it was as if a light bulb went on in his head.
“You think it’s someone else, and you have your own theory. Am I right?”
I nodded, and shifted my weight from foot to foot. I wasn’t comfortable with telling him who I thought was behind it all.
“Go on, constable. Tell me what you’re thinking.”
Cautiously, I told him what I thought. I expected him to scoff at my theory, but he didn’t and it surprised the hell out of me.
“Are you sure about this, Blake? Do you have any hard evidence? A hunch isn’t going to cut it in court, and it won’t help us to get a search warrant for his house.”
“I’ve got nothing, Sarge. Only a gut feeling,” I said to him, disappointed that I couldn’t give him anything more.
He thought for a bit, scratched his head, nodded, and smiled. And I got that feeling of being watched again.
. . . To be continued . . .