Inspector's Office

Inspector May could be found in her own private office. It was located on the third floor in Precinct 23 and right across from the designated workspace used by her C.I.D. unit Team B.

The office was fresh white, be it floors, walls, ceiling, not a crack or stain could be found even when checked under a magnifying glass. A cabinet sat behind her office full of law text, court documents, as well as investigation files that come and go every day. Her office was small but that did not stop her from keeping a large work desk in front of her. It was the kind that could raise up and down by the press of a switch, from sitting to standing, to improve ergonomics and body posture. Two screens standing vertically sat in one corner, a large desk calendar covering the front of her desk, and a standard office phone with more pre-programmed speed dials than numbers.

The rest of the space was occupied by several small chairs, which were currently used by Sergeant Leo and Constables McLamb, Jenny, and Jackson surrounding her with police tablets and reports.

“It’s been a few days,” Inspector May leaned back in her tall leather chair, making a light creak noise, “What do we got?”

Jenny pulled out her tablet to hand to the Inspector, “The severed thumb Sergeant Leo and McLamb found has the same blood type as the body, O negative. The hair samples Jackson recovered from the Tucker resident matches the DNA of the body. We are for sure the victim is Sarah Tucker.”

“I’m looking for a breakthrough,” Inspector May frowned and pushed the tablet back to Jenny, “We’re past the point of confirmation. Give me something I don’t know so I can start thinking of possible leads – next!”

McLamb adjusts himself in his seat, back straight, shoulders levelled, both feet firmly on the ground, “After some speculation with Sergeant Leo and the others, the killer has taken great care to make sure the police couldn’t identify the victim immediately.” Seeing Inspector May roll her eyes, McLamb holds up a hand to gesture to let him continue, “I believe, the killer and victim knew each other, to the point hiding her identity was the best plan of action. Looking at surface evidence, we can debunk that this was not a random spurt of the moment crime of opportunity.”

The Inspector tapped her calendar on her desk with a finger. A few loud thumps and she spoke, “At this point, I see two possibilities. Either McLamb is right, this was done by someone close to the victim, or this is the work of the Splitter serial killer.”

“Hmm. I don’t think so,” Jackson adjusted in his seat, arms folded with his fedora leaned over to hide his curious brows, “I had a talk with the buddies at Precinct 18 who are hunting the guy down. I read their case files. Yes, the Splitter chops up his victims into itty bitty pieces – however! The Splitter never places all severed limbs in a single area. Maybe it’s a game in his head, or some kind of artistic puzzle, he scatters the victim’s body parts in various locations. It takes months, even years to find all missing pieces. This case, we found everything, and only needed, what, a day to find a thumb.”

“May I remind you Jackson, we still have a head and pelvis missing.”

“I mean, you get what I’m saying right? That ‘never put all of your eggs in one basket’ was turn on it’s head for Sarah Tucker’s case.”

“A smokescreen.” Leo rubbed his chin in deep thought as everyone turned to him. “I suspect Mr. Tucker is involved with the death of Mrs. Tucker. Her murder is disguised among the victims of the Splitter that has been on a rage across the city. The details are public, most likely the husband collected the information to mimic the Splitter.” Leo would then pat McLamb on the arm, surprising the Constable, “McLamb and I agree that Mr. Tucker’s reaction when confirming the body of his wife was suspicious, right?”

“Uh, uuuh. Yes. Leo—Er, Sergeant is correct. I, as a stranger had trouble facing the corpse, however Mr. Tucker seems more afraid to see the body of his dead wife compared to me. I didn’t even turn the body over to show the back, and he already confirmed the birthmark and surgical scar.” McLamb rubbed his neck trying to piece the logic together, “It’s like he wanted to get it over with and say it was her. No denial, or think about the possibility she could still be alive.” A thought came to mind and he brought it up, “A-also, Jenny and Jackson said Mr. Tucker hid the truth about his relationship with his wife. The housewife claimed she would see them argue intensely, even exchanging blows. There could be a connection to his behaviour at the morgue and why he is lying to us.”

“Ah, the magazines,” Jenny pulled out her police tablet, opening some images and held it up to show everyone, “In our interview with Mr. Tucker, I found a lot of newspapers and magazines all talking about the reports of the Splitter in his apartment. A part of me wondered if he thought his wife would be involved in the crimes, and that’s why he searched up the information.” Jenny brushed at her nose to gather her thoughts. “You know, like when people self diagnose ailments on Google and find evidence to support it, regardless of doctor’s confirmation. That or he started collected them after seeing his wife’s dismembered body, to see if the police has caught the murderer yet.”

Leo frowned, “I feel he wants to check whether or not we figured out who the murderer is.”

Inspector May picked up her cup from her desk to give it a sip. “Alright, I am going to play the Devil’s advocate.”

“Of course,” Leo rolled his eyes with a fold of his arms.

“In similar cases, the family members tend to overthink and prepare for the worst,” the Inspector huffed with a slight shake of her head, “Given the seriousness of the Splitter, the fact that he leaves no survivors or eye witness, and added with Mrs. Tucker being missing for more than a few weeks – it would be obvious for a vulnerable man like Mr. Tucker come to such a chilling conclusion.”

“Ooooor,” Jackson leaned in his seat, pushing back his fedora, “Like the Sarge said, this could be really a smokescreen to throw us off the scent. The guy bought the magazines and newspaper to study the serial killer, and when the opportunity strikes HYAAAH!” He makes a loud noise with a swing of a hand like a violent chop, “Bye bye wifey.”

The Inspector tapped her finger again, making loud thonk noises, “Motive?”

“Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeh. Pendiiiiiing?”

Inspector May started to knock her knuckles on her desk to emphasize her words. “Think. This was a 20+ year marriage we’re talking about. If they really hated their guts like the housewife stated, wouldn’t a divorce be easier and cleaner?”

The Inspector looked at her team, still thinking for a proper response.

“Manslaughter can happen by accident,” she continued, “murder needs a motive. Some classic text book choices are: love, money, revenge. Sometimes jealousy or an expression of rage against society. So, tell me, why end a 20+ year marriage in such a flashy exit? We’re talking about a dismembered corpse and two missing body pieces? Hmm?” The Inspector rose from her seat, picking up her coat and putting it on. “May I remind you, I will be representing this case in court. I cannot use ‘I believe’, ‘I speculate’, ‘I assume’ to the Judge. If you want to throw out the case, fine by me. If not, go get concrete evidence. Dismissed.”

The team rose with her and saluted, “Yes, Madam!”