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Right of Ownership. By Peter C Byrnes
Murder squad series: book 34

Genre/Category: Crime, Thriller, Mystery
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Right of Ownership By Peter C Byrnes
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Synopsis
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Enjoy the 34th Instalment in the Series detailing Murder Squad Detective Grade 4 Joseph Lind and his young partner Detective Grade 2 Shelley Shields.


It's a man's world and has been ever since the various religions of this World instilled the patriarchal philosophy onto the general population.


This is a predominate aspect of the greater majority of all religions.

Founded by men for their continued exalted and respected roles.

The female viewed as the 'vessel', 'the obedient one', to be at the beck and call of the male's desires and wishes.

The Murder Squad team of Lind and Shields investigate two horrible homicide deaths where the female victims are subjugated and cruelly slain because they are the women of the family.

A stand-off between the AFP and Detective Lind on the ownership of a murder investigation threatens to get out of hand.

oseph Lind too feels the wrath of his live-in partner for opposing her wishes and dares to implement, to stamp his wishes, his opinion on the relationship as the superior male of the twosome.

It's a man's world but it needs to change!



Excerpt:

It was an hour before official sign-in time.

Neither Shells nor I had changed into our swimming togs as yet. We were still sitting on the poolside bench seat catching up with other likeminded, early morning masochists!

My mobile skittered on the bench beside me. I was bent over trying to undo the laces of my high-tops.

"Bugger!" I exclaimed.

For some reason, I had woken this morning with a sore and stiff back. Untying my shoelaces for once was a painful ordeal.

"Yeah?" I growled into my mobile.

"Joe? You and Shelley are it...the night boys have washed their hands of the case..."

"We haven't even signed on for work as yet, Hendo...and you're bloody early as well!"

"Don't shoot the messenger, Joe. The night boys are spread thin. Wanted to know whether we could take the case. Two bodies out near the Penrith Leagues Club...one dead...the other in a drunken coma by all accounts...beaten up pretty bad...called in by a couple of early morning joggers doing laps of the Training Field. Local guys already on site. Forensics and Pathology on the way...have a good morning Joe. I understand it is a brilliant morning out there, this morning...you know, that Autumn chill in the clear, crisp air..."

"Good grief, Hendo. You're the last person I expected to wax lyrically...especially this early in the bloody morning. Okay mate. We'll come by our desk to pick up the particulars...it's only bloody 0645...we want overtime starting this early, my friend..."

"I'll see what I can do, but my guess is you can knock off an hour and a quarter earlier..."

"And pigs might fly, Hendo."

"Yeah, well, the silly buggers will keep on trying, I guess. Resulting in a lot of pigs' broken legs as they fall off the roof of the back Garage!"

"Oh! So early in the morning Hendo, it's a little hard to take. Hear me?"

I could hear his chuckle as I hung up and nodded at Shelley to forego her morning exercise regime.

- - - - -

I kicked the guy in the sole of the foot.

"C'mon, mate. Wakey, wakey...the sun is out and you're in the shit."

"F**k orf..." The guy grumbled.

His alcohol fuelled breath obvious from where I stood.

I also thought he had pissed in his pants as the strong smell of stale urine filled the air. It could have been the woman voiding her bladder at the moment of death, I suppose. Why blame the drunk young man for all of the aroma?

"Wake up, mate." I stated more forcefully. Shaking him by the shoulder.

"Go away will ya! Just piss orf and let me sleep."

"Get up, you drunken sod. You're lying across a dead woman's foot whose blood is all over ya."

"What tha!!?? What're ya on about...Bullshit! Who the f**k you think you are? Get lost!"

The drunk rolled over and half opened his eyes with effort.

He was looking straight into the mashed face of a young woman who was propped up against a tree trunk. Her position fixed in that seated position by a rope that went around the trunk of the tree and the young woman's neck. Tightly. Tight enough to have choked the woman to death...if she had been conscious to know...which was doubtful, according to Brenda Wzerlic, the young Forensic Pathologist who was on all fours examining the body...and that of the drunk.

"Mate...listen...don't pay heed to that cranky old Detective. Just keep still for a moment will you, young sir? I just want to get these little spots of blood...and I'll need all of your clothes including your shoes and socks."

"F**kin' hell...I got a cop telling me to get the hell outa here and a monstrously large blue Witchetty Grub telling me to keep still...what shit did I have last night? And who the hell is that?" He asked, close to hysteria. Pointing a shaking finger at the woman sitting up before him. Her face a bloody mass. Her blue tongue swollen and hanging from her mouth. Bile running down the front of her. Her eyes blood shot and bulging. A grimace of sheer terror on her face.

"You finished with him?" I asked the Lead Forensic Pathologist as she crawled slowly around the corpse.

"Yes...no. I want to go over his clothes again. When the Paramedics get here, get them to take off his clothes gently like, so I can bag them...they should have a spare Hospital gown in the Ambulance."

"Get him to wiggle into one of these bio-boiler suits."

"Good idea, Joe. Though they won't give much relief to the chill in the air with nothing on underneath, let me tell you. Do it when he has a bit of privacy before they take him to the hospital. Shoes and socks also bagged, please."

"Make sure that you stay within the taped path. We've not even begun to examine the large blood pool areas across several sites on the grass." The Lead Forensic Officer ordered hurriedly as she looked up at me. "There's so much blood about, it has to involve more than two persons, is my bet...a series of fights where the Vic fought for her life!"

I gestured for two young Constables to manhandle the guy to his feet and lead him to a park bench some distance away.

"Handcuff him to the seat, just in case he tries to get away...though I doubt that he could run in a straight line or with much haste...the shape he is in."

The two young Constables chuckled at that comment.

They lifted the young drunk to his feet and propelled him away from the centre of the crime scene.

The entire area was dotted with red flags and small yellow pyramids denoting areas that required further forensic examination, the evidence of trace elements or photographic investigation.

The drunk spilt the contents of the night before as he was seated on the bench. The two Constables aware enough to jump out of the way as the stream of stale beer and bile erupted from his mouth. There was an audible groan from the crowd of onlookers held back by police tape further up the parking area. This mixed with a cheer or two from some young jerk who thought it a rite of passage to eject what had been consumed the night before.

Dumb. Absolutely dumb!


Clem 'Lofty' Hills Series:


The Blue Sapphire By Peter C Byrnes Safe Contents By Peter C Byrnes

Murder Squad Series:


Vengeance is Sweet By Peter C Byrnes A Bad Hair Day By Peter C Byrnes Rough Justice By Peter C Byrnes Will You Still Love Me To-morrow? By Peter C Byrnes A Bad Batch By Peter C Byrnes. The Helpful Neighbour By Peter C Byrnes. Bad for Business By Peter C Byrnes No White Flag By Peter C Byrnes A Tough Life By Peter C Byrnes The Innocent Don't Run By Peter C Byrnes A Place for Everything By Peter C Byrnes Tendrils By Peter C Byrnes A Legacy of Sins Past By Peter C Byrnes Choices and Consequences By Peter C Byrnes Living is Risky; Death Guaranteed By Peter C Byrnes An Economic Solution By Peter C Byrnes Not Worth the Paper it's Written On! By Peter C Byrnes A Light Bulb Moment By Peter C Byrnes Guilty Until Proven Innocent By Peter C Byrnes A Home is Not Necessarily a Haven. By Peter C Byrnes. Without Mutual Consent. By Peter C Byrnes. A Lonely way to Die. By Peter C Byrnes. Dare to be Different By Peter C Byrnes Worked to Death - Peter C Byrnes Vengeful Thoughts can sour the Soul - Peter Byrnes Evidence from a bush Grave - Peter 																																				Byrnes Undue Force By Peter Byrnes Terror Has Many Faces By Peter Byrnes The Farm Gate. By Peter C Byrnes What Price Freedom - Peter Byrnes Shoot to Kill - Peter C Byrnes A Fatal High By Peter C Byrnes Life's a Lottery By Peter Byrnes Right of Ownership By Peter C Byrnes So Shall Ye Reap. By Peter C Byrnes All Hope Lost. By Peter C Byrnes Ghost Riders. By Peter C Byrnes A Bad Seed. By Peter C Byrnes A Place to call Home. By Peter C Byrnes