Body in the Thames
Jane
Goodhew
As she opened the curtains to let the sun shine through
she noticed that her garden was covered in a carpet of snow. How beautiful it looked, glistening and sparkly like diamonds with no footprints to spoil the image, how unfortunate that
she would be the one to destroy it.
She needed to get a move on if she was to be there on time
for her first day in the office of Hartman & Sons as Private Secretary to
the executive of overseas
purchasing. If there were two
things she liked most of all it was travel and clothes, this position
would fulfil both. As she went up in the
lift she recalled the first time she'd entered the building. She had looked like a bedraggled, drowned
rat, with windswept hair plastered down by the rain. Today was different she had her hair swept up
and held in place by clips and hairspray and her makeup was subtle but
flattering. Her outfit was navy with
pink piping around the wrists and neckline complimenting her silk blouse.
Good morning, Miss said the concierge as he held the
door and showed her the way to the lift. Good morning she responded with a
smile that would melt frozen butter. She
could not help but marvel at the view she had from her office especially on
such a day as today. The Thames looked splendid with the boat taxis going up and
down taking people to work or just on sightseeing trips on the river. She thought about the people who had travelled along it over the centuries and in winter when it
froze over how the children would go skating on it.
How many people had ended up sinking into the murky waters when a crack appeared in the ice without warning, and they were swept away by the
undercurrent. Swept
out to sea never to be seen again, no goodbyes, just gone. What was wrong with her thinking in such a
negative way on this her first day at work?
Who knows the workings of a mind once it goes into fantasy land but it
was time to snap out of it as Mr Hartman had just entered extending his
hand for her to shake. She was not used
to such manners she blushed, feeling like a
teenager on a first date. Wake up, this
is not a date, its work, and time you came down to earth and showed him how
efficient you are.
The days passed and turned into months and now it was summer and the Thames was busy with holiday makers and she was often distracted
by all the toing and froing on the river.
It was during her coffee break, she was sitting stareing out the window
when she saw what looked like a large black bag, it was stuck by the steps
leading down from the tow path and what was that sticking out the side? It looked like a hand but it couldn’t have
been, because if it were the bag must contain a body and that was just too
gruesome to contemplate. It was probably
a mannequin from one of the shops and children had found it amusing to toss it
into the Thames.
She called Mr
Hartman over and asked him what he could see on the other side of the
river? His face went white as he too had
seen what looked like a body in a bag.
He picked up the phone and called the police. Within minutes they
arrived, a police boat arrived soon after. They dragged the ‘body’ up onto the boat and
sped off leaving onlookers wondering what was going on and how long had the
body been there. Also, who was it,
surely someone would be reported missing?
The police asked the usual questions of those in the
office, but nothing of any consequence came to light. It would seem that this
morning was the first time the bag had been noticed by anyone, either in the
office or anywhere else along the embankment. It hit the headlines, ‘Body in a bag found in
the Thames.’
Anyone knowing of a missing person please contact Detective Spencer
07778 675 433 with details. Weeks
turned into months and no one heard who the person was or even
their gender. It
bothered her that someone could go missing and no one show any interest. Perhaps it was a foreigner, someone on
holiday who hadn’t been due home for several months. Perhaps no one cared enough to make
inquiries. After awhile she too stopped
thinking about it and then there it was, body named and case re-opened. It was a young woman from Switzerland and
several months pregnant which made it even more tragic. There was also a photo of the young lady,
smiling happily on a bright Spring morning as daffodils
could be seen along the Embankment. She
stared long and hard at the photo and then it came back to her, where she had
seen the face before. It was here, the
day of her interview, the young lady had entered the cloakroom, just as she was
leaving. They had smiled and exchanged pleasantries then gone their separate
ways. She looked in her purse for the detectives card and rang the
number.
‘Detective Spencer
can I help you?’ She explained why she
was ringing and he thanked her and said he would be there straight away to talk
to the staff so make sure she made herself known and he would meet her at the
reception desk. It seemed like an
eternity before he appeared and they went into an empty office to discuss what
she knew which really wasn’t much. It
was strange that no one else had recognised the lady as others must have seen
her. Perhaps she too had been there for
an interview, but if so, why had Mr Morgan not mention it? He must have seen the headlines...
Copyright Jane Goodhew
Len Morgan 
