Devan Vanderpoel, Year 11
Chief inspector Andrew Harrison paced what had been, a mere six hours beforehand, his boss’ study. His movements, from staring at an intricately framed family photo on the wall to the blurred glass door opposite had become an automatic, almost mechanical cycle. This allowed his troubled thoughts to swirl around his head like a terrified troop of baboons. He was wearing the standard black vest accompanied by a dreary white collared shirt of the London police uniform. Three short golden medals hung from the left flank of his chest. A black police cap was squished between his arm and his side. Dark hair elegantly curled backward and streaked with a few solitary silver flashes rested above his handsome face and thin eyebrows. His very businesslike brown eyes, seemingly hardened by nearly fifteen years in the police force, pensively studied the office.
His Boss, James Anderson, had apparently kept the room in pitch perfect tidiness; in fact every single object seemed to be just in the right place, neat as a pin. But in truth it was the immaculate correctness of Anderson’s office that worried the men assigned to his case most. There was no sign of any struggle; there was no broken vase or lamp, not even a scratch on the window pane. After all, whoever had murdered James Anderson was extremely good at what he did, Inspector Harrison was certain of that. His Superintendent’s body had been discovered two blocks down the Wood street police station. Three knife wounds were present on the body, but no sign of any weapon was found.
The glass door opened. Harrison had his back towards the newcomer, who stepped into the office sighing heavily with resounding footsteps.
“Evening, Inspector.” Sighed the man.
“Evening, White.”
Harrison turned around. A middle aged, plump man in a large suit and tie resembling more of a businessman than a policeman was standing drowsily in the doorway. He placed a thick document of paper on the desk. A single bead of sweat had rolled down the left side of his hairless forehead, lone, and forgotten by his handkerchief.
“These are all the scientific reports concerning our former Superintendent.” the man called white cleared his throat loudly, clearly unhappy with his choice of words. “I would also like you to know that the officers at the scene have got a pretty accurate idea of what happened.”
“That’s good, was there any evidence on who actually committed the crime?” asked Harrison
“No, there was nothing. Nothing at all! It’s frustrating to be honest” He paused a little, seemingly dazed. “Umm, are-are you OK? You look slightly peculiar today. Oh, what am I saying? Of course you’re a little off. You should go home. I myself am feeling rather queasy.” A long and loud yawn contorted his tired visage for a moment. “Oh well, sleep tight.”
Mr. White turned to leave but as he reached the door a sense of hesitancy took over him. He looked back at Harrison, “have you seen the files on my desk? Uh, they, umm, were extremely important.” asked White.
“No I don’t think so. I’ll inform you if I do see anything.” And with that he mentioned a quick farewell and hurried out of the room through the grey, colorless corridors and out of the uninteresting, mundane police department. The small, official looking buildings on Wood Street were like witnesses to the crime that took place at their doorsteps. The road, empty and foreboding, was filled with the crushing darkness of a moonless, cloudy night.
The only sign that something had happened there was the crime scene itself. Bright white light emerged from behind a group of police officers running all over the place and writing down notes on clipboards and notebooks. Harrison walked to the group quietly.
“Ah! Inspector. Everything is under control. The suspect has been narrowed down to a young adult with brown hair and a leather jacket. We’re tracking him down now.” explained a young police officer holding an orange clipboard.
“Perfect. Well, I assume I may leave now? You seem to be doing fine without me.”
“Yes sir you need some rest. You look different, must be the shock. He was your boss after all?”
“Yeah, I need some time alone. Thanks for your work.”
“Always happy to help. See ya soon.”
“Perhaps.” added Harrison under his breath. He strolled away swiftly and turned towards another street. A smile appeared on his serious face, suddenly unveiling his striking swagger and keen appearance. His silver, stylish Ford Edge lit up as he crouched to enter the vehicle. He then sat down and removed his uniform, revealing everyday clothes, and put his hand to the top of his face. The wig and exquisitely engineered mask came off easily. Placing the disguise beside the leather jacket on the passenger seat, the impostor removed Chief Superintendent White’s missing files from the police vest. The words: Confidential− Top Secret glittered boldly as the car light shone its cover. A handsome wrinkle followed the curve of the man’s smile, devilish and cunning.
The tires screeched as he sped up the road and away from the unaware police officers.
