This is the 321 word version
“Well Detective we can tell you more
once we get her down to the morgue but it looks like she was beaten
by the classic blunt object and dumped here. Time of death would
have been early last night from the liver temp”, Tommy the medical
examiner's assistant gave his report to Detective Rob Mosley.
“Her shoes were on top of the bag,
what's up with that Rob?”, his young partner James Hoyle asked.
Hoyle would ask such questions fully expecting Rob to have the
answer. Rob couldn’t tell if the boy was stupid or suffering from a
case of hero worship, either way it irritated him.
“No idea Jimmy, could be she wasn't
wearing them when she was killed.”
“Well she is fully dressed and no
signs of rape, must have been the husband.” Hoyle went for the
husband every time, usually that is a good bet.
“That her purse?” Rob nodded
toward a purse on the ground next to the body.
“It was in the bag with her when I
took her out” Tommy replied, “guess it is but you're the
detective.”
It had been hers, no husband, no
steady boyfriend so they were off to talk to the co-workers.
They arrived at the office where she
had worked. A small room on a floor of a building filled with similar
rooms. A middle aged woman sat at a cheap desk ginning at them. A
broken and bloody lamp was on the desk and blood stained the floor.
The woman seemed to take no notice. The office manger told the
detectives the woman's name was Linda Smith, a plain name. The woman
was anything but plain, she was the most beautiful woman Rob had ever
seen.
“Miss Smith? I would like to ask you
about Miss Betty Wright.”
“Betty is dead, she had big feet.”
“Excuse me?”
“Yes, she had big feet, her shoes
didn't fit me at all.”