No Blood, No Weapon, No Commotion

"No Sarge, she's from Redbrook"

The Policeman almost put his back out as he twisted to look up at his constable from his squat next to the body.

"Redbrook?" He raised his eyebrows and surveyed Officer Cooper for any hint of a joke showing on his face.

"Yeah I didn't believe it either but we did a scan of the defectors database and she came up. Name is Charlot Crester, reported missing just over six months ago. She got out and stayed under the radar for longer than I've ever seen before."

Sergeant Pierce thought his officer looked impressed. Maybe he could be trusted, maybe he could be brought into the fold. On the other hand he could simply be objectively awed by the genuinely impressive feat of managing to evade multiple governments and military forces for a significant period of time and felt no pity or significant urge for justice for this refugee. Pierce looked back into the young woman's face, a mix of annoyance and admiration sloshing around his brain. What a waste, if only she had come to him. He thought the rebels in Redbrook circulated the names of safe contacts that could be found on the outside. She should've known about him, surely she could've found a way to him if she was smart enough to stay alive and out of sight for six whole months.

Pierce snapped on a pair of blue latex gloves, rolled up his sleeves and started his investigation. It was currently a complete unknown how and why Charlot had ended up dead, splayed out unceremoniously on the hard concrete floor, halfway up multi-story carpark. No blood, no weapon, no commotion. Eventually found and reported by a civilian when she was already cold.

The outfit didn't scream rebel, but then it wouldn't, Camo gear, a balaclava and steel toe cap boots would've drawn attention and Charlot had been smart. She had got her hands on outside clothes somewhere along her journey, unassuming navy pencil skirt and white blouse, just a woman heading home from the office. Her tights were ladder free and kitten heels shiny and un-scuffed, she hadn't run from anyone or anything.

Pierce lifted her left wrist and twisted her arm slightly- a tattoo scawled in a spikey handwritten font on her inner arm- 

'These violent delights have violent ends.' 

Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet specifically.

Small pocket on the upper left side of the blouse- empty. Make up- unblemished, skillfully applied red lip, not even a smudge. Pierce moved around the other side of the body and scanned the pencil skirt, there was more writing just below the hem. Pushing the material up slightly he caught another passage on her skin hazy under the sheer tights- 

'Mercy but murders, pardoning those that kill'. 

Frowning slightly Pierce pulled out his phone and googled the phrase. Also Shakespeare, also Romeo and Juliet. A strange thought occurred to him and he returned to the passage on Charlot's arm. Pierce glanced around to make sure everyone on the scene was occupied elsewhere. Officer Cooper was interviewing the man who had discovered the body and a crime scene photographer was snapping frantically a few feet away, documenting a probably irrelevant tyre mark on the floor. Pierce gripped the limp arm and pushed firmly on the quote.

It smudged. It wasn't a tattoo, it had been written in pen, recently.

Pierce dropped the arm, ice ceasing his spine as it dawned on him what was happening.

"Sarge, medical are here for the body, they wanna know if we're done." Cooper's voice cut into his consciousness.

"Yes, done, yes." Pierce jumped back from Charlot's body at pace.

"Are...are you okay boss? You look like you've seen a ghost." Cooper started forward, arms outstretched.

"Yes I'm fine, I just stood up too fast, vertigo, you know." Pierce waved away his officers concerns and nonchalantly as he could muster. Heart pumping so fast he was surprised it wasn't visibly moving his shirt up and down.

-------------------------------

Early the next day Pierce pushed open the door to the morgue. It was a cold morning, the bitter air outside stung his cheeks and made his nose run so he gladly entered the relative warm of the facility. Flashing his badge at the receptionist he headed down to the cold storage. Through the square windows on the lab doors he could see Marshall, the mortician bent over a clipboard furiously writing. Pierce rapped on the glass and Marshall looked up, gave a small smile of recognition and moved across the room to let Pierce in.

"An early start for you Simon" the mortician remarked, moving back to his paperwork.

"Yeah, you know the early bird and all that" Pierce chuckled surveying the room at large. "I need to have another look at that female from the carpark yesterday."

"Hmm, yes, haven't had a chance to start that autopsy yet." The mortician glanced up from the clipboard at the bank of fridges thoughtfully. 

Pierce had been sure he wouldn't have but had still had a sleepless night worrying that the mortician had pulled some kind of uncharacteristic caffeine fuelled all-nighter and imagined arriving this morning to find Charlot on the slab with all her internals sitting in dishes next to her rather than tucked safely in her body.

The mortician locked his gaze on Pierce. "They say she's a runaway."

It wasn't a question.

The two men looked at each other, unspeaking, unmoving, expressionless.

"Well I'm going to get a coffee, I fancy one of those snobby batista ones from that place across the road though, not the instant trash in the kitchen, I'll be back in twenty, don't cause any trouble while I'm gone." The mortician pulled a set of keys from his pocket and placed them on the table next to him, winked pointedly and headed to the door.

"Thanks Albert, I'll be on my best behavior." Pierce smirked. "Oh wait what..."

"Number 14." Albert interrupted and swung the door closed behind him.

Pierce rushed to the fridges, unlocked number 14 and yanked the door open, sliding the tray containing the body out in a cloud of steam, reveling Charlot's pale, still form.

Pierce suddenly realised how unprepared he was for what he hoped was about to happen. Charlot was completely lifeless, cold and... naked, what was he supposed to do now? Maybe his timing was off, had he just messed up some kind of bigger plan that he wasn't privy to?

As he stood rooted to the spot, spiralling into panic and uncertainty Charlot's eyelashes started to twitch and her eyes rolled in their sockets. Pierce stared, transfixed, hoping he wasn't imagining it. As Charlot's eyes flickered open he breathed out with a recognition of the fact he'd been holding the breath from the moment he opened the freezer.

"Li...Linda." Charlot stammered as soon as her eyes found Pierce. Her voice seized from lack of use, she gave a small cough and repeated "Linda... your wife."

"What about her?" Pierce grasped Charlot's shoulders, suddenly completely unphased by the girl's nakedness.

"She got me out, she gave me the chemical that slowed my heart, told me where to go to get your attention, she said you'd realise because she loves Romeo and Juliet and made you watch every movie version they ever put out. Of course that was in the better times, before all of this craziness , you never know a good thing until its gone." Charlot smiled sadly as she talked. "She's a remarkable woman Simon, she told me to tell you that she loves you but she has to help as many of us as possible."

"She... she's alive." He whispered to himself as he stared into Charlots eyes that had started crying, his now mirrored hers. "But why, what do you mean? Why did she need to get you out? Why didn't she come herself?

"She's trying to get the marked ones out, to spread the word... look, before I explain could we possibly get me out this freezer, and maybe into some clothes?"

The Sargent waited impatiently while Charlot wrapped herself in a lab coat that she found hanging on a stand and fumbled with the buttons. She had just finished securing the last one when a scuffle outside the door drew both of their attention. Pierce relaxed as he saw Marshall's face at the window.

"Umm, Simon, could you, earr, let me in please."

Pierce moved to the door and pressed the release button. The mortician moved into the room, followed by three men in black suits, one of which had the old man by the arm and in the small of his back, was held a gun.

"Well, Charlot, don't you look... alive" remarked the gun wielding man snarkily. "I think I can help you with that."

Faster than Pierce could react, the man pulled the pistol from Marshall's back, pointed it directly at Chatlot's head, and fired. She fell immediately, silent but for the crumpling of her body impacting the floor. Dead, for real this time, no coming back from a bullet to the head.

There was a shocked moment of silence before the man spoke in a completely unphased tone, as if he were discussing the weather.

"Well, apologies Gentlemen for disturbing your morning. Don't tell anyone what happened here, okay?" The man had released his hold on the mortician, gave them both a pointed look and left the room with his flanked cronies.

"Albert, what..." Pierce splutted

Albert sighed, shook his head and looked pitifully at the girl folded unceremoniously in a heap on the floor.

"They never let them get out. Never"