The Three Stooges - #bodyonthebeach

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The body lay in the ocean break. The waves rocked it back and forth, making it undulate in the sand. It would have been seductive if not for the grotesque condition of the figure. The detectives stood a few feet away to protect their shoes from the saltwater as seagulls cawed loudly overhead.

The morning breeze coming over the Atlantic was strong. Detective Ramirez pushed her long wavy hair from her face. "Who found it?"

The junior of the pair, Detective Thompson jerked a thumb at a small group gathered by a black and white. "Those three."

"They together?"

"Not from what they told the uniform who answered the call."

Ramirez analyzed the trio; two men and a woman. A well-muscled man with long blond hair held a surfboard while looking infinitely bored. A second man wore shorts and a tank top and sweated profusely. He jogged in small circle while checking a black band on his wrist. The final person used the hem of her sun dress to wipe the telephoto lens of a digital camera. A wide brimmed hat shielded her eyes from the sun.

Turning back to her partner, she asked, "What's the story?"

"A ranger made a sweep of the park before it opened at six. The body wasn't there. The three stooges over there claim to have found it simultaneously at approximately seven. They were the only visitors to the park before it got shut down."

Ramirez squatted down to examine the victim who appeared to be a Caucasian female in her 20's or 30's with an athletic build. The head, hands, and feet were removed with surgical precision at the joints. No identifying marks or tattoos were visible.

"Could it have floated in?" Thompson asked.

Ramirez tucked a strand of hair behind her ear but it flew out immediately. "Look at it. No sign of predation or bloating. This kill is fresh."

"A boat?"

"There's a reef out there which makes it almost impassible."

"Looks like we have a locked room murder, I've only seen those on TV."

"You don't read Sherlock Holmes?"

"I saw the movie. And, the sequel."

"You're pathetic!"

Thompson blushed. "So, it has to be one of witnesses."

"At least one of them."

"Good point. So, what do you think the killer is doing with the body parts?"

She took out her a spiral-bound pad and scribbled down a note. "What do you think?"

"I think he's collecting trophies. He has a 'Mommy' complex, and he's using them to make some kind of puppet to keep in the attic. It tells him he's been a bad boy, and he has to get new pieces when the old ones start to smell."

She laughed. "That's quite a theory."

"Do you like it?"

'No. It's too theatrical. I think he or she is making the bodies hard to identify."

Thompson kicked the sand with a thick-soled shoe. "That's more logical."

Putting her notebook back in her jacket pocket, she scanned the deserted beach. "Come on, let's go talk to them."

The loud waves crashed rhythmically as the pair trudged towards their suspects. The woman and two men were lined up on the edge of the asphalt parking lot. They eyed their approach with the jogger in the middle of this unlikely group. The surf board now lay in the sand with its rear fin down.

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