Tammy sat in the cell in the police station - so this was what it was like. She felt so trapped. There was nothing there for her to do, except use the toilet and lie down on the extremely thin matress. It was dark, too, for the window was very small - if there was a fire, she would not be able to escape the building, which would count as a health and safety issue, although it was ignored by all, because nobody cared about prisoners, guilty or not.
Eventually, a police officer came to give her some dinner.
"This is absoloutely ridiculous!" she cried, but the police officer did not listen. "It wasn't me! Nobody can prove that!"
She knew that nobody would listen to her. After she finished her dinner, ten minutes later, the same officer came, and took her to the desk. She knew that was coming.
"Tammy Williams", said the officer at the desk, "you are charged with the murder of Barry Scott. You are refused bail".
"I'll prove my innocence!" exclaimed Tammy, "and I'll put a claim in for this mess!"
She was taken back to her cell. She decided to make a start on proving her innocence by thinking about the evidence that was planted. Nobody could have got into her back garden without taking a risk. Tammy assumed that it was one of the five suspects who was doing this to her, if not all of them. How could they find out where she lived. However, nowadays, there are many websites online that help to track people down, so she assumed it was that way. Knowing that the plant pot incident would get her nowhere, Tammy decided to think about the perfume. How did her perfume get on to Barry Scott? She thought about that for a while. The final piece of evidence left to her was the crowbar found in the back car. Then, she remembered something - for five minutes, she left the table to go to the toilet, leaving the keys on the table. Other than that, her keys were in her back pocket at all times, so nobody would be able to get hold of them. That five minutes would prove crucial to her, and she knew it. She thought about where everybody was when she went to the toilet; the rest of the squad were there, and the five main suspects were also there on a nearby table, watching her every move like a hawk. That provided with them with the opportunity to do it. Could it be possible that the five of them managed to distract the rest of the squad whilst taking Tammy's keys, before putting the bloody crowbar into the back of her car? However, there was one major argument against this - Scott was murdererd after Tammy went to the toilet, so it was impossible for a bloody crowbar to be placed int the car at that time. Was it actually Scott's blood on that crowbar? Hopefully not, then there would be evidence that Tammy was framed. However, she did not want to count on it, because the murderer was an intelligent person, and Tammy knew it.
Seeing nowhere else to go, Tammy used her one phone call for phoning a friend from the past...
Inspector George Coarse entered the building. He was dressed smartly, and used a walking stick, for something had happened to his leg the last time he had been seen. He was allowed to visit Tammy for five minutes.
"Long time, no see", he said. "How've you been?"
"I really need your help", said Tammy, cutting to the chase because she knew that help was needed.
"I know you need to get out of here, but how can I help?"
"I need you to find the real murderer of Barry Scott", Tammy replied firmly.
"Aren't you supposed to be the one who can work these things out?"
"You're a great detective, too", she said, with a hint of desperation. "I've seen you in the papers a couple of times".
"I'll try my best, but I can't make any promises".
"You do this for me and you won't regret it", Tammy promised, seeing Coarse as her last chance.
© Copyright 2016 declan mckimm. All rights reserved.
Book / Mystery and Crime
Short Story / Other
Miscellaneous / Horror
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