A Highway Murder
A Highway MurderDetective Gregoria slammed on the brakes so abruptly that her Russian workfellow Kronin could have crashed into the windshield had he not been belted in. The reason was a terrible sight: a bleeding man lay on the roadside. The police was already by his side and the ambulance siren roared loudly from afar.
The detectives dismounted from the car to approach the scene as close as possible.
The police inspector was questioning a witness who said that before he entered this high-speed road section a white Ford Fusion with a red number happened to cut in aggressively.
Apparently, the victim had been walking towards the beach, dressed in shorts and wearing slippers. His cap and beach bag lay next to the body.
- “Ah,” detective Gregoria sighed, vexed, nodding at the witness. Had the witness remembered the number, it would have been possible to get the criminal.
- “Finding the car is a matter of time. The place is full of cameras. Nevertheless, I do not think that this was the car that hit our beachgoer,” noted Kronin.
“I'd better call the agency,” said detective Gregoria. “Yet another traffic accident this month on the same section of the road. Do you think maybe he just fell under the wheels by chance?”
- “No,” said Kronin. “He was not hit by a car. He was killed somewhere else, then the body was brought here and dumped on the side of the road.”