SUSPECT NO.1
In the middle of the night, under a bus stop in the pouring the rain lying on the bench was the near-unconscious body of a middle aged man, eyes weak from endless nightmares. This was yet another day on the job for Blake York, he pulled out a cigarette poked it in his mouth and took a puff. The dry smoke that came of the end singed the cold wintery air. It was 3:00 in the morning he was alone and hungover. Not an unusual experience for him, but unpleasant. The pitter-patter of the water was being broken up by cracks of lightning. His phone began to ring and kept going on for a few seconds before he picked up the phone and answered in drunken slurr.
“Uh.., Mister Jackson, why did you call me, you know during the middle of the night?”
Blake could hear Jackson sigh through the silent buzz of the phone,
“Detective...”
“Yes Jackson you, why the fuck did you wake me up at this hour? Are your men really this incapable?”
“Well, sir it’s your brother, his fiance she’s dead.”
Blake froze up for a moment, processing what he just heard, an impossible task at his current state.
“No, not Josie that, THAT’S IMPOSSIBLE! ”
“I’m sorry, Blake but we need your help ”
“What about Gabe does he know?”
“Yes we have sent informants to tell him”
“What about the baby, were they able to somehow well, umm save it?”
“No the child died with her I’m sorry Blake are you able to come over here?
“Where are you right now?”
“ Right next to 75 Victor Street-you’ll see us.”
Blake walked up to his car.he rain was beating against his head and dripping from his short hair onto his dropping trench coat. The city around him a canvas for graffiti. He strolled up to his broken down station wagon and drove speeding through red lights and turning at large angles.
He drove to the street and stepped out of the car, there he stood, paralyzed with fear. He looked down a long alleyway covered from top to bottom with graffiti, it was dark and cold with only the moon’s light creating a glow against the wet paint on the bricks. The smell of smoke and petrol wafted through the air. He managed to take a few steps forward and the harsh concrete crushing his feet beneath his weight. His hair like a mop to the storm. Blake brought his cigarette to his mouth and walked onwards. He reached the red tape separating him from the crime scene. His body slid under the tape, to see Joseline’s body lying dead on the floor. He crouched down at the body and with tears in his eyes he whispered “What did they do to you Josie?” commissioner Jackson pulled on his shoulder, and he stood back up. the other cops placed their hands against their guns “We believe she was found here about an hour ago”
He took a deep breath in and then looked at the sky and one remaining tear began to roll down his cheek.
He took a puff of his cigarette and started to examine the scene the walls had blood splattered along the bricks covering up the graffiti surrounding them. “Forensics were called in to run the tests on the blood, bullets and dust for fingerprints. And now we know that the CCTV cameras were shut down all along the street between 11 and 11:30 pm for maintenance”
“Bull-shit, Jackson bull-shit! Wasn’t there a witness at the scene?”
“Not yet, but there’s something in the back you need to see”
Jackson led Blake to a black suv and in large letters it read EVIDENCE Blake began to sort through the plastic bags with evidence when he found the weapon which had been used to kill joseline. The plastic bag refracted the moon’s tender light as he pulled the metallic pistol out of the bag. “Jackson, this is my gun. How did it get here?” Jackson shrugged his shoulders. “That’s why I asked you here in the middle of the night. I wanted to ask if you knew. And tomorrow we’re going to have to bring you in for questioning. Right now you’re suspect number one.”
Blake looked at Jackson shocked. “I’m your main suspect, oh come on Jackson.”
Jackson nodded, “But tonight you can go home and mourn with your brother we’ll be there to collect you tomorrow at 8. Get some rest prepare yourself.”
Blake nodded and walked off towards his car. He went to drag another puff of his cigarette, but then flicked it to the ground. He slid into the car, placed his hands on the wheel and drove off.
Blake arrived home at 04:45 to see his brother sitting in his armchair next to the window. “Gabe I-” He tried to say before Gabe interrupted him “FUCK YOU” The rain poured down the window, and Blake placed a hand on Gabe’s shoulder. “I didn’t do it Gabe.” Gabe took a drink of whisky. “Really, then why did they find your gun on the scene, your personal gun which you keep on you at all times?” Gabe asked. Blake couldn’t believe this his own brother didn’t believe him. “I don’t know why, but you have to trust me!” Gabe threw the whisky bottle on the floor, “GET OUT, YOU MURDEROUS, DEVIL WORSHIPPING TWISTED PIECE OF TRASH!” Blake walked out of the room, and down to the nearest pub and asked for a straight whisky.
The next day, he woke up inside his room at his home. He looked at his watch it was about 3 in the afternoon. Sarah, Blake’s girlfriend walked up to Blake’s room and carried a cup of coffee “I’m really proud of you.” she said, Blake looked around and said “For what?” Her face scrunched up, “You know what.” he didn’t. She walked back downstairs where Gabe was sitting in his living room. “Gabe listen about yesterday I’m so sorry.” Gabe looked at him and smiled, “Sorry for what? You told them what happened. I should be the one saying sorry I assumed that you were guilty.” Blake shook his head, “Wait when did I do this?”