A/N: So I started a writer's club and this will be the first piece designed for it. I will be reading this out at the next meeting on 5th Feb so wish me luck. Tell me what you think? :3
"Suicide from drug overdose," he explained.
Detective Kane's face, already looking aged and worn thanks to years in the force, seemed to age some more as he frowned at the morbid words. He should be used to it, he had seen many suicides, even those alike the one in question, but each one was still imprinted on his mind as if they hadn't only happened yesterday. Each bloodless face... the stale smell... the blood, sick and any other fluid that often accompanied the body... He could remember everything from each, individual case.
This one was not too different from the rest. Another person that had died with a case that needed solving. A blonde girl, tall and quite pretty lying on her front. In her hand was an empty bottle of tablets that she still clutched and on the table lay three phones. All on and in working order. Within the whole of the girl's flat, nothing else was seemingly odd. She seemed to have an average life... there was a hungry cat, food in the fridge, television, books and the usual...
Detective Kane, senior on the case, had been informed of most things by the first officer on the scene. "Looks like she was a loner. She has a cat, y'know?" He had been told. "Pretty girl, too. Must have finally got too lonely."
There had been a nod but Kane couldn't help but think that he was too much of a rookie. Assumptions were a rookie's mistake after all.
Kane had left the room without another word. Suicide might be right but something about the case didn't feel quite right...
It was later that day and Kane had made some headway on the case. The girl was twenty year old Carina Wilcox who had lived in the flat on her own for less than a year. She was a care assistant at a local care home which helped. Having spoken to the care home's manager, she had agreed to come in for a chat.
At five past three, five minutes later than expected, his office phone rang. "Hello?"
"Mrs Holmes is here to see you," was the receptionist's immediate reply.
"Take her into Interrogation room eleven. I'll be five," he replied before putting the phone back and typing some more of his report before getting up and making his way to the interrogation room. He smiled, pleased to see Mrs Holmes. Maybe she could help with the case of Miss Wilcox. "Hello Mrs Holmes, I'm grateful you came on such short notice."
Mrs Holmes, an elderly, portly woman with big, blue eyes that were magnified by circular glasses, clutched onto her cup of tea and gave a watery smile. "By all means... such sad news. Are you sure she is...?" She asked, one hand reaching for a tissue from her pocket and using it to dab at her eyes. "Of course she is, silly question. But she was such a young, good girl..."
Taking his own seat, Kane ran fingers through his grey hair. "I'm sorry Mrs Holmes, but Miss Wilcox is deceased. Now, you said she worked at the care home you are manager at?"
"Yes, yes. Marsh Manor residential care home... she was a care assistant," she replied.
He pulled out a notebook from his pocket and skimmed over the notes he had made on Miss Wilcox's case. "And we already have a copy of her records including next of kin?" To that, there was a small nod. "Can you tell me what sort of person Miss Wilcox was?"
"She was a good girl... hard worker, picked up extra shifts at the drop of a hat, as long as she wasn't doing her studies. Only twenty but she's worked with me for two years and gained lots of skills. I could rely on her," Mrs Holmes began, continuing in the same sort of tone. Until..., "the only problem was, she didn't do anything out of work. Kept herself to herself... no parties, not even the Christmas parties. She didn't make friends really, seemed so private."
"Do you know how she liked her eggs?"
To that, Kane received an odd look. "Fried, sunny side up. Just like me."
From the records Mrs Holmes had given Kane, he was able to see her date of birth, allergies, next of kin and the likes. Helpful, but on their own they were just minor details. Carina Wilcox was not going to be another number or statistic if Kane could help it but he was no further in understanding the girl, and so decided to get in touch with her next of kin, her mother.
Mrs Jean Wilcox sat opposite Kane, tissues in her hand as she dabbed at her blue eyes. She had brought along her husband, Mr John Wilcox who held her hand as he tried hard to hold it together for her. It was clear that Miss Wilcox had gotten her looks from her mother, a forty year old and pretty blonde. Not only did they have the same hair colour and blue eyes but they had the same thin, slightly pointed face. It tore at Kane's heart to see this couple so devastated... it just didn't seem right. It was easy to tell himself not to get involved but he had learnt that it wasn't quite possible.
"Our little girl is gone," Mrs Wilcox, repeated. She kept repeating it in no more than a sob and Kane wondered if she was hoping it would sink in or if it repeating it meant that someone would tell her it wasn't true, that she was wrong.
"I'm sorry, ma'am," he replied sympathetically. "I know it's hard but can you tell us about your daughter?"
"She was an angel," Mr Wilcox answered. "Never had a problem with her. She was an only child, we did our best not to spoil her and she wasn't. Never was stubborn or bratty, either. She got straight A's, worked as soon as she left college even though she was part timing it at university. Never forgot birthdays, father's day or anything... could always be relied on and was always happy. Even looked after me when I had a heart attack a couple of years ago."
Kane scribbled some notes. Perfect daughter, worker and student... did she have time for anything else? He could understand that too much stress had brought on her suicide but if she was always happy... it could be a front, though. "Thank you, very helpful. I'll be sure to keep you informed of what I find."
Mr Wilcox nodded. "Have you spoken to her boyfriend?" At Kane's raised eyebrows, he added, "Adrian Black."
"I'll be contacting him... tell me, how did she like her eggs?"
"Scrambled, like us." He frowned, looking baffled by the strange question.
"I didn't do anything!" Adrian announced immediately, voice raised and defensive.
He looked the cocky sort with his tracksuit, cap and lounging posture. Kane would have loved to get him for something if it wasn't for Carina Wilcox or the fact he could see the red, swollen and watery look to the boy's eyes.
"I wasn't accusing you of anything," Kane replied briskly, rubbing at his tired eyes. He was drained; this case was still not making sense. "I just wanted to talk to you about Miss Wilcox. Can you tell me what sort of person she was?"
"Carina was ace," he said, straightening up a bit when he realised he wasn't being charged with anything. There was a distant smile on his lips as he remembered. "She was down to earth, not clingy but never too busy. She wasn't a plastic Barbie, had a head on her shoulders and I loved her for it. She'd helped me with some family problems... We've been dating for a year and half, getting serious and I was about to move in with her. I can't believe she did it..."
Silence fell in the room. Kane watched Adrian with a sympathetic look. It didn't add up, surely someone should have picked up on Miss Wilcox's mental breakdown but she seemed to be an all round, happy and helping girl. He believed them all though, his gut instincts which had been refined by many years in the force, were never wrong these days. "How did she like her eggs?"
"Poached. Why?" He asked with the all too familiar, puzzled look.
Later that afternoon, Kane was writing up his report when he was joined by a junior and two cups of coffee. He was still huddled over pages of notes, Carina's folder and a picture of the silent girl. The junior, who was set on impressing but much better than the rookie who had been on the case at first, looked over his shoulder at the notes.
"You know, it sounds like she was a bit of a people pleaser."
Kane tapped the tip of the pen against his lip, looking up at the junior. "True," he agreed. Someone had finally told him what he had been thinking at the back of his mind. "Must 'a been trying too hard."
The junior nodded, smiling proudly and glad they had got something right. "Not good being someone else. You need to be yourself, be true."
"True," Kane said. "Probably hated eggs, too."
Kane couldn't help but chuckle at the junior's confused look.
||No tags but feel free to tell me what you think. For my next writer's club meeting, the topic being 'I am not who I am'. C: