by eburburan

Created on: June 17, 2009   Last Updated: July 02, 2009

Murder in Room 262

Chapter one Flashing cameras snapped in unison as photographers captured the grizzly scene. Strewn haphazardly were drug paraphernalia; needles, empty vials and rubber bands. An obvious drug overdose was the first impression to all who entered the disheveled dormitory room.

Detective Scott guided the forensic team in their efforts to carefully preserve the evidence. Tongs held by hands covered with tight fitting plastic gloves placed the items gathered expertly into plastic bags which were then sealed. The area around the decedent's body was carefully marked as she was placed in the black body bag.

Young in her early twenties, her promising life snuffed out by an overdose of heroin. Or was it? Scott wasn't sure; something didn't feel right he thought to himself. Could the answer to this deceiving puzzle lay with the missing red bicycle?

Only several hours had eclipsed since the victim phoned in the stolen bicycle report to police headquarters. Scott's assistant Meg had taken the report over the phone. The fifteen year veteran detective had arrived at the scene for the purpose of taking what he thought to be a mundane paper work exercise. His knock on the slightly ajar door of room 262 Riggs unveiled the ghastly vision of the young coed's mutilated corpse.

The detective had overheard a conversation among the students gathered across the hall that the young lady, who recently arrived from France, was pursuing graduate studies in Fine Arts. Detective Akers, Scott's partner arrived shortly after and entered the room pulling Scott aside.Her name was Madelyn Darcy, from what I was told at housing she was part of an exchange program the university had with the Sorbonne in Paris. They said she was an amazingly gifted dancer.

Outside the ten story dormitory complex students congregated attracted by the commotion of blazing lights, news cameras and strange men walking briskly in suits gathered on the grassy common area in front of the building. The college located in an idyllic Pennsylvania valley, just 100 miles west of New York City, had a reputation for excellence in all disciplines of artistic endeavor encouraged by the serenity of its secluded location.

That tranquility was to become more interrupted as a long line of a dozen vehicles in length approached in unison upon the crime scene coming to a screeching halt, pulling up in the rear of the building complex. Men wearing darkly tinted sunglasses quickly jumped of out the Lincoln

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