Published: Aug 9, 2015 by Sofy Kabachek
Murder Scene: The murder occurred in a park, at night. Apparent suicide with a small gun. A well known detective. The victim’s house has been broken into and searched.
Sarah put a hand on her mouth, and shut her eyes tight. She was well aware that it won’t help her be more quite. But somehow, on a strange level, it helped her feel invisible as a large shadowy character tore through her grandfather’s apartment. It was a small two bedroom apartment on the third floor. Sarah hid in the closet of the guest bedroom. It seemed to have been visited by the intruder already, and she hoped that he would not come back for a second look through.
Sarah visited her grandfather every Thursday night. She stopped by after work, and they shared a glass scotch. She also, inevitably, got to hear some stories about the good old days at the precinct. She heard the one about his partner getting shot in the rear at least ten times before. She would have loved to be hearing it again tonight.
When she got to grandpa’s place this time, the door was unlocked and cracked open. No signs of tampering with the lock. Someone had a key. She opened the door slowly, and found the living room in turmoil. All the drawers were pulled out and flipped. She stopped and listened. The place seemed empty, so she advanced; slowly and silently. She almost reached the master bedroom when she heard the stranger. He tore one of the drawers from the nightstand, and emptied its contents onto the bed. She froze. No sudden movements.
Holding her breadth, light as a feather, she snuck into the guest bedroom and into the closet. There was a small safe in there. Grandpa made sure to disable the sound on the number pad. She was convinced that an occasion like this was the reason. Inside was a small revolver. The bullets were in a different safe, in the master bedroom. She hoped she wouldn’t need them.
She made sure not to move the sliding closet doors. He might be observant. She didn’t want to give him any reason to double check this room. A few breadths. A few counts. The shadowy character seemed to remain focused on the master bedroom, and Sarah felt secure enough to send a preconfigured SOS message from her smart watch. The message was setup to send her coordinates and a phrase “call 911.”
The text was received by two phones. One belonged to Richard, a private investigator and Sarah’s colleague. The other belonged to grandpa. It didn’t ring in the apartment. In fact in didn’t ring at all. It was smashed by the weight of the owner when he fell of a park bench. It was currently being inspected by two officers that found it and the owner next to a small hand gun.
This is a warm-up sketch. Find out more HERE.