Footprints in the Blood (Part 1)
I was typing a document on the computer when the phone rang.
“I’ll get it,” I said to the other officers working next to me, answering the phone quickly. “Yes, hello? This is the Police Department, Jake Winslow, how can I help you?”
I would normally expect prank callers faking emergencies, as I was used to this, and my tone was calm and professional, careful to make my voice of an empty tone, not showing any kind of expression. I was slightly surprised, therefore, to hear a panicking woman on the other end of the line.
“Hello? Hello? Emergency! I think I have a murder at my house! Come quick!” she gabbled, a panicked edge to her voice.
“Please, calm down. I would like to ask you a few, quick questions,” I took my time. I was used to this. “Firstly, tell me your full legal name.”
I could tell she hesitated. “Lauren Ayres.”
“Ok, Lauren, now tell me. Are you alone in the house? Or is there another relative or family member in there with you?”
“I’m alone. Unless…” her voice trailed off, unsure, getting more worried every second.
“Please do not worry. I am here to talk to you,” I reassured her. “Final question. Where do you live?”
On this question, she had no pause. “82 Baker Street, Manchester, TB5 3RQ.”
“Ok, Lauren. We’ll be on our way. Try not to worry too much. If you are, wait outside for us. Maybe you will feel better. Thank you.” As soon as I ended the call, I rushed over to the other police officers.
“Brian, Luca, Cameron, Zoe and Abigail,” I called out five names, specifically calling two ladies to help out, as I’m sure women will be able to help out a woman in distress. I mean, a man isn’t going to be much help, right?
They all stepped out, knowing the procedure of the uniform and emergency equipment, as I called out one more name. “Detective Roy.”
Detective Roy was our top detective. He has solved nearly all of our most diabolical cases, and has reached the top level of standard.
After explaining to them about the case, we set off to the house in our police car.
A good time later, we stopped to a halt in front of the modern mansion, and got out to greet Lauren. She had a scared expression on her face, but when she saw the police car, it softened and relaxed a little.
She rushed up to us and shook our hands. “Lauren Ayres?” I asked. She nodded.
Lauren beckoned us towards the mansion. We strolled over to the entrance, hands in pockets, while the shadow of the massive building loomed over us quietly.
“So, where is it?” Abigail piped up, when Zoe was gently comforting Lauren.
There were no more words as we stepped in…
To be continued...