I Should Be So Lucky (1/1)

The immense bulk of her, sitting implacable and pale, under the lucent water had haunted the officers called to the scene. There was something horribly powerful about her, even in death. Something stubborn and forceful projected from her, and surrounded the scene with a tangible, threatening misery. Worse than all of it was Kylie in the background, warbling 'I should be so lucky, lucky, lucky, lucky ....' You had to be irredeemably sick in the head to commit suicide to the sound of Kylie Minogue.     'So - the way I see it, Sarge - we've got a car that drove off the road after hitting somebody wearing cotton clothing and dripping pool water and we've got a dead woman in a pool wearing a torn cotton robe, with lots of cuts and grazes. Doesn't that sound odd to you? The only problem is, we found Cynthia Edwards dead, about ... um ... two days before the crash.'     'W.P.C. Carter, if I were you, I'd keep my wilder imaginations to myself.' The Sergeant moved closer though, to peer over her shoulder at the fax. 'What's that then? That's not a hit and run report.'     'No, it's not. It's a murder. Elizabeth Cavella; the wife of the man who died in the car crash. She was found strangled in her office earlier today. The analysis of the fingerprints on her neck shows the killer was very large and covered in chlorine.'     'Odd,' said the Sergeant.     'Mmm, something else too,' Carter shivered. 'The same music playing at all the scenes: the swimming pool, the car stereo and the laptop - all belting out Kylie Minogue, singing 'I Should Be So Lucky'.