He didn’t even know her name, but there they were on the local news as the couple sought after by police to help with their enquiries. Geoff wondered if his wife had seen an earlier bulletin before she went to work. Who said the camera never lies. As the presenter moved on to the topic of pot holes the picture faded from the screen, but not from his mind’s eye. The body language suggested they knew each other well. When was the picture taken? He always wore the same coat, but it must have been one of the few mornings when it wasn’t raining.
With his job, Geoff was not a familiar figure locally, but friends and a few dog walkers would recognise him. Perhaps their brains would not register it was him linked to a totally different woman.
The woman was new in Puddleminster, he was sure of that. Only newcomers strode enthusiastically down to the beach every morning whatever the weather. Geoff would be on his way back from what his daughter would call a power walk, stopping at the little beach shop to get his newspaper. They would merely smile or say good morning.
He needed that fresh air and exercise before setting off to commute to work in the county hospital. Now nobody would be walking that way for a while with Queen Victoria Memorial Park cordoned off. It had been a shock to hear body parts were found in the park, quiet little Puddleminster-on-Sea. He had certainly not seen any body parts when he went for his lap round the park yesterday morning. Maybe if he had a dog it would have come bounding out of the undergrowth with a hand in its mouth, probably how the grim discovery was made. He chuckled to himself, his career had given him a dark sense of humour, but the police weren’t giving any details.
Then reality resurfaced in his mind. Was there CCTV in the park as well as on the road next to it? Did they also have pictures of him walking early in the park, looking suspicious without a dog? Here was a right dilemma. Should he call the police to explain, no he had missed the special phone number. He could drop in at the little Puddleminster police station, if it was actually open. What would one say. He had no idea who the woman was or where she lived. If she was new in the area it was unlikely anyone else would have recognised her.
There was no time to do anything, he had to leave for work. He could phone his wife from the car, better than keeping quiet and her maybe thinking he was hiding an affair with another woman.
But as he opened the front door he was confronted by two police officers on the front path.
He couldn’t believe this had happened, handcuffed and sitting in the back of a police car. What did they actually say to him? Geoff was so bewildered he sat quietly, to struggle would have suggested guilt. This could be sorted out at the police station, hopefully no one he knew would be strolling by.
It was amazing how much harder it was to get out of a vehicle when you were handcuffed. He just wanted to get inside the building, by the back door if there was one, but they led him straight up the front steps, just in time to see the woman from the photo dash inside. All would be well, she would explain.
Geoff did not get a chance to even exchange a glance with her, he was ushered through a side door and into the interview room, soon joined by a man and woman in plain clothes who introduced themselves as a constable and sergeant. They did not look as if they had ever dealt with a murder, their tactics owed more to television drama than proper procedure. Photos were laid on the table, Geoff striding through the park.
‘This is ridiculous and how did you know where I lived?’
The cocky young DC answered with a smirk.
‘Your wife called the hot line, anxious to explain she was not the woman in the photo, but keen to assure us you always walked that way and were totally innocent.’
The tight lipped woman sergeant leaned in closer.
‘The wives are always the last to have any inkling.’
‘Can you confirm your job and where you work?’
This was not going to look good. When people found out what his work was they would get excited and remark ’Like on that television series.’
‘I’m a pathologist at the hospital and no I don’t chop bodies up, I just find out what disease your great uncle died of.’
The two officers looked at each other and Geoff realised they didn’t appreciate his sense of humour.
‘We have not released any details of the crime scene.’
OMG!! This is very good.
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Thanks Darlene, glad you enjoyed it hot off the press.
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Hi Janet, a most entertaining story AND I don’t know what to think about the man’s guilt 🧐
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Thanks Robbie, glad I have you guessing.
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Uh oh . . . .
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I don’t know if I’d ever return to a place where body parts were found. That reminds me of when we were first-time home buyers. We couldn’t afford anything decent because we didn’t have much money. Our realtor finally took us to a much older home that at least held some promise. Then she told us the previous owner had been murdered in her home. Uh, no thanks.
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That is funny Pete. If you had bought it you could have stories to tell about being haunted. I’m sure statistically there must be many homes with a chilling past.
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Is he being too clever for his own good?
Love the observation about local news featuring potholes. Not a day goes by on ‘BBC Look East’ where they don’t show a reporter next to an even bigger pothole than the one yesterday.
Best wishes, Pete.
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Thanks Pete, wonder when we’ll see a reporter fall down a pot hole!
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Good post.I subscribed. Have a good day🍀☘️⭐️💝
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A good story and, like all yours, totally believable
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Thanks, yes it is inspired by some real events!
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Coincidence, I was just starting a short story about potholes. 😀 I enjoy your slices of life tales, Janet.
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thanks Voinks, I shall enjoy your story about potholes.
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This story scares me. I identify with Geoff!
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Good, be very afraid Geoff!
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