Dead Case

I slid a pen from my breast pocket and quickly scribbled a few words onto my notepad. As the black ink dried on the page, I took another cursory glance at the body. Stepping back to avoid sullying my black leather shoes I frowned. This conflict had clearly taken an unexpected turn. There were signs of a weapon being used, but also of a struggle. Others began to surround me, filling the room almost to capacity. Specialists and photographers all crouched around the body, white flashes from their cameras, momentarily lighting up the room as they logged evidence. He had been wearing a white shirt now inked in blood like a gruesome tattoo. As far as I could tell, there was nothing incriminating here. I adjusted the black buttons on my sleeve, in an attempt to look busy. To be honest, I was bored. This case looked dead to me, and as a detective, dead cases, but not dead bodies, were what I hated most.

As my mood decayed I reflected on the horrid luck that fate had shoved upon me. I had been up far too late last night, and I looked like death. The dark bags under my eyes proved it. It didn’t help that this case had been called in at 5:23 in the morning, and that my coffee machine was broken.

I was startled out of my reverie by a flash of glaring white, as a pair of unnaturally clean tennis shoes moved towards me. I slid my gaze upwards and stared sullenly into the face that flashed before me, bearing a wide smile, “Hey man, look alive! We’ve found you a witness.” If I wasn’t alert before, I certainly was now.
“What?”
“Woah there Mr. Zombie, had a wild night?”
“Did you say we have a witness?” I snapped, irritated by his overly cheerful manner.
“Yeah, some bloke reported seeing a killing last night, but we didn’t put two and two together before now, otherwise we would have brought him to you earlier.”
“Where is he?” I asked, startled. A witness could change everything.
“He’ll be here in about five minutes.”

I shook strands of my dark hair out of my eyes and looked around for the fiftieth time. The carpet had soaked up the blood like ink on a page, transforming its navy hues into what looked like the matted fur of a dead animal. From over my shoulder I heard, “He’s here.” Taking a final glance around the room and smoothing down my suit, I turned on my heel and looked through the doorway at the witness.

His distressed jeans were creased and his white shirt looked slept in but clean. As he saw me, we held eye contact for a moment, just long enough for his jaw to drop, before bolting back down the corridor. I hesitated for a moment and then took off in pursuit. As my foot crossed the threshold of the door frame, I saw him stab at the elevator button, before thinking better of it and turning right towards the emergency stairwell. I charged after him, ignoring the questions that followed me. Stumbling and nearly falling down the stairs, I crashed into the wall at the bottom and spun round to race down the next flight. By the time I reached the foot of the stairs, he was out the door and running down the street. Fighting for breath I gave one last sprint and tackled him to the ground.
“You are under arrest for obstructing an investigati-”
“Leave me alone!” He blurted, surging into the road.

I glimpsed a blur of motion and a sickening crunch. It was clear immediately that he was dead. By now, police officers from the crime scene had arrived, and were setting up a cordon around the area, pushing people back away from the horrifying sight.
“Why d’yah think he bolted?” called a voice from behinds me. It was Tennis Shoes, jogging over.
“No bloody clue.” I replied, “he must have known something that spooked him, spooked him enough to make him bolt, right in front of that car.
“Damn, the way this is going he was our only lead.”

The rest of the day passed in a blur. The bodies were carried away, evidence filed, and blood cleaned up. By the time I was due to leave the sun had set and the world was smothered in inky black and blue tones. As I made my way through the crisp night air, back down the street of the fateful chase, I felt relaxed. The case was closed, there was no evidence found, the only witness was dead, and luckily, nobody saw me push him. I would have to be far more careful if I wanted to do this again.

Yet another one I had gotten away with.

Detective Silhouette. 2012. San Fransisco. Jojamamida. Web. 23 Jan. 2015.