Mr Martin goes back to the scene of the crime.
"Did you know the victim?"
“No”, yes. I shook my head trying to look sympathetic.
The police officer aged well over his fifties eyed me warily. “Is there some reason why you are here then Mr?”
“Martin, It’s Mr Martin,” I glanced over the officers shoulder again and watched as the black body bag was zipped up over her beautiful face.
The officer cleared his throat to get my attention. Looking him in the eye I responded, “My morning walk officer. I just had to come over and see what all the commotion was.”
“Yes well Mr Martin, there’s nothing to see here.”
I begged to differ but decided that wasn’t something I would bring up with the officer. To my delight he was called away giving me a better view of the scene where I helped Isabel to draw her last breath just five hours before. The morning daylight filtering through the park trees brought a sense of peace to the flattened grass where her body had lay just a moment ago.
“Please don’t do this,” she had cried, “Please I’ll do anything.”
The memory of her voice filled with such terror still sends chills through me, and I love it. That moment when my gloved hands clasped around her slender neck and squeezed was the most thrilling moment of my life. It had just been too easy.
“What exactly are you smiling about Mr Martin?” The officer appeared in front of me, “and how did you get that scratch on your neck?”
Dam, my jumper must have ridden down. Suddenly I was filled with panic and I could tell the officer saw it. Without thinking I turned to run.
I didn’t get far before the heavy weight of the officers body threw me to the ground.