SERGE WRIGHT, a thirty-year-old, seemingly from the land of the soft- spoken, highly economical with words yet confident, sat on the veranda visibly shaken and disturbed. The tie hung loosely from his neck – his jacket was forsaken to the ground. But he cared less.As tears streamed down from his eyes, Serge gently rubbed his palms after an almost perfect- timed interval.The door behind Serge opened and two uniformed men wheeled out the dead body in a bag on a stretcher in a cautious yet swift manner.Serge made it to his feet and laid his hand on the bagged dead body as the men move past him to the ambulance parked just in front of his house. Tears, more tears, well and flowed his eyes and marred his handsome face as the he watched the men helped the dead body into the ambulance.A couple of police officers and two coroners matched out of the house with samples and pieces of evidence in a box before POLA BROWN, in her early thirties, a newly enlisted police detective, emerged. Every
Barely a day after his arrest, Serge walked between two armed Police Officers. Both his lower and upper limbs were fettered with a chain cuffs respectively.He was led to the visitors room.The strong door to the secured room opened and Serge was shoveled in.The door was pulled back and secured with lock and key.He absorbed the pressure with a few staggering steps before gaining composure.A man, wearing a black suit, white shirt and black tie, sat alone. His face was adorned with a pair of glasses. He seemed to enjoy the silence that swept through the room. "And, you are?" Serge inquired while walking towards the table.
James walked out of the Police station with a jacket in his hands. He had been released from custody. After a couples of hours behind bars, it sure felt strange to breathe free air again. The sun, as though joining- in in his release, shone brightly amid the expansive blues in heavens. As he motioned towards the highway, with hopes to catch a taxi, Pola who sustained bruises and a black eye ran after him. “Priest!” James halted almost immediately and turned around.Pola continued with her thought, “I just wanted to say, thank you for your cooperation. You were of great help in our investigations.”James nodded gracefully but said nothing in return. Pola, with a pinch of shyness, “above all, I'm sorry for detaining you.”“'And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose.'” James smiled brightly after making a quotation from the bible.Pola effortlessly spoke, “Romans 8: 28”James nodded. Smiled again, looking
Hopkins sat on the wheel chair staring at Ivy's portrait on the wall. As per his odd custom, the room was dimly lit and an awful silence kept him company. It was such a perfect setting for meditation and thought. The door opened and Kilogram, wearing a stern face, walks in with a pistol in his hand.Hopkins, expectant, inquired immediately, “Anything for me?”Kilogram, for the first time, made himself at home on the couch behind Hopkins. “Here's the thing... I walked into the house. And, there was Ivy unconscious on the floor. Serge stood over her with a haggard face. I tossed him the sharp- long pin and like a mad man, he pierced her through the armpit. All the way… to the heart. I enjoyed the sport. I love that guy, you know,” He chuckled softly. “Back to my story, we patched her up. I staged her death in the tub, implicated the damn Priest and got you to kill him at fee. And now, you die. Perfect plan.”“It was you two fools. Your hands are stained with my daughter's blood,” Hopkin
Moments after the induced confession, Serge packed his bag in a haste at his residence. He kept on pulling the curtain gently and peeking through the window in the light- starved room. The door to his bedroom slowly opened and Kilogram emerged with a gun in his hand. For a jiffy, he stood there and watched Serge as hurried on getting essentials together. The gunny was stealthy. It was as if he was never there until he made mention, “Boss.”Serge, without looking back, responded promptly, “We have been made. Some lady blew my cover at the hotel. By now, the police should know that I killed Ivy. They should be on my tail.”Kilogram gave a nodded and wondered, “Any intel on the lady?”“Nothing. Nothing I can put a finger on,” Serge said. “I suspect she's Ivy's friend. But I don't have any information about her. I have never seen her before. Yet she knows a lot about me.”Kilogram probed further, “Do you still have Ivy's phone?”“No.” Serge shook his head gently. “It’s still with the damn
The door to the dimly irradiated five- star hotel suite swung agape. Micah, barefooted, walked backwardly in the dark room. Serge advanced after her, step by step - Kissing and caressing each other. They both burnt with passion. Serge helped Micah take off her dress and lowered her gently, like a perfect gentleman, to the beautifully decked bed. With quick fingers he took off his shirt and belt and charged forward for more kisses on top of Micah.Winnie, sitting on the chair by the window, lit up a cigarette and took a puff. A revolver and handcuffs were on the side table stationed by her chair. Serge and Micah startled by her presence and immediately plummeted into fear, disengaged from their romantic clutch.Winnie established coldly, “Your wife is barely a month old in her grave and there you are snogging another woman.”“Who are you? What do you want?” Serge queried gnashing his teeth.“Who I am not is important." Winnie gave quick feedback. “But if you must know, I'm the Shepher
At a beautiful restaurant whose ambience spoke so much of cleanness, lovely décor and spaciousness, Pola sat alone feasting on a Greek salad. Soft music oozed through a few hidden speakers – much to the pleasure of both the staff and the patrons.WINNIE, in her late twenties, standing tall on her heels, emerged from the main entrance and took a seat on the other side of the table where Pola was enjoying herself. The latter kept her eyes on the plate.Winnie looked at Pola and without blinking opened up the conversation, “The devil roams about freely at the expense of an innocent man. Crazy world, huh?”“Are you talking to me?” Pola wondered.Winnie with a serious face answered, “No. But you can listen.”“Who are you?” Pola probed her further.Winnie struck back, almost instant with her gaze still resting heavily on the unconcerned law enforcer, “Who I am isn't important.”“What do you want?” Pola inquired softly but in a firm- weighted tone.Winnie demanded lucidly, “Freedom for the p
James, still a confined within the walls of the holding cell at the Police station, sat on the bed reading an old newspaper article. Pola walked to the cell and quickly caught his attention with a pen she repeatedly knocked against the cell bars. James did not look at her. He closed his eyes for a moment, opened them and concentrated his attention on the article.Pola, however, was not put off by James’ snobbish attitude. “I hope you have a good lawyer.”James kept his cool. He cherished his silence.“We are looking at murder here. Death sentence is most likely.” Pola continued. “It’s important you find one hell of a lawyer.”James broke his silence with a question, “For something I didn't do?”“We can work around this.” Pola was elated that the old clergy man finally responded, but she could not show it. By her standards, it was unprofessional. “The charges can be reduced to manslaughter, life sentence and a shot at parole. All I need is a confession.”James took in a deep breath and
Micah, wearing an intent- screaming face, hastily meandered through the sizeable crowd at the shopping mall without looking back nor the sides. Pola matched Micah's pace but from a distance. Micah made a few swift turns to the ladies' convenience rooms. The latter observed the former’s every act and turn – she vowed not to lose any more ground from the assailant. She was determined to catch- up with quick steps. The goal was to corner Micah and interrogate her. But she was nowhere to be seen.Pola cautiously but vainly entered and searched each and every convenience room for Micah. A sigh of exhaustion escaped her mouth as she scanned the last room. Hopes of getting first hand first-hand information from Micah regarding any possible involvement in Ivy’s murder were fast fading away. Pola remained rooted in the convenience room vividly perplexed. She was not ready to walk away empty- handed but there was little to no light at the end of the tunnel. But there she was – Micah, the viciou
Behind the ‘spy- mirror’, in the interrogation at the Police headquarters, Pola stood looking rather rested, smart and reorganized. Her hair, as on a normal, is pushed back neatly and tied. She had swam above the toll that the previous day had taken on her. Steam meanders from the mug cup of coffee in her hand. Her gaze rested squarely on James who sat calmly with one hand cuffed to the table. Despite the composure and easiness, he looked rather tired, dehydrated and hungry. It had been a tough few hours for him. And it had to be rightly so.Pola observed James for a few more minutes before walking into the interrogation room. After taking a seat opposite him, she unobtrusively sipped the steamy coffee. And she quietly placed the cup on the table and inquired, “Is he your sidekick?”“What are you talking about?” James, looking Pola in the eyes, parried almost immediately.‘The shooter. You hired him,” Pola without blinking laid her argument down.James took a deep breath in astonishme