“What is your emergency please”
“It’s my wife, please you have to help me, I think she’s killed herself”
Inspector Babbage had been 5 minutes away and took the call; he hated attending suicides, they were worse than murders in his opinion because he couldn’t do anything. At least with a murder you could give some comfort to the family when you caught the one responsible..
He stepped out of his car and turned up his collar against the biting wind, Christ it was cold! The front door of number 86 was already open, apparently the paramedics had beaten him to it. He walked in, grateful for the warmth of the central heating. The hall led to a large living room with a beamed ceiling; the Inspector was greeted by the site of a man in a dark suit, bent almost double on a leather sofa, with his arms clasped around his knees, he was obviously crying. Turning around, he saw the reason for the man’s distress; a young woman was hanging from one of the beams, her eyes bulging and her tongue protruding from her mouth..
“Can we take her down Sir” asked one of the paramedics quietly “She’s gone I’m afraid, nothing we can do”
“Can you just give me a few minutes lads”
There was very little doubt about what had happened but Inspector Babbage was one for dotting his i’s and he wanted to be sure that nothing had been missed, just in case.
He wandered over to the grieving man and sat down beside him on the sofa
“I’m very sorry for your loss Sir, is there anything I can get you? Anyone I can call”
The man raised his head slowly and look at the Inspector, he was disoriented and obviously traumatised by his gruesome discovery.
“I…..no….thank you…..yes….a brandy maybe, there’s some over there on the side”
Babbage poured the drink, taking in the expensive crystal glasses and the half empty bottle.
The Inspector turned when he heard the little voice behind him, there was a little boy rubbing sleep from his eyes and clutching an obviously much loved teddy. Where had he come from? He glanced over to the paramedics, hoping one of them would come forward and take the child into another room but they seemed as stunned as he was…
“Why mummy up there?” a tiny hand pointed upwards, the boy had no fear on his face, only mild curiosity
“It’s OK son, why don’t you come with me” Babbage wanted to get the child away from the terrible scene as quickly as possible.
“Mummy fly up there?” He seemed disinclined to move and Babbage was reluctant to move him bodily. What the hell could he say to a question like that? He tried to find words to distract the little boy but they just wouldn’t come.
“On floor, up in sky, Mummy fly” the child chuckled
Babbage knelt down
“Mummy was on the floor?” he held the boy gently, a hand on each shoulder, and looked into his face
“Yes. Mummy on floor with Daddy, he give special cuddle”
Babbage looked over at the husband, he was half rising from his seat…
“Sit” The man sat back down and resumed his previous posture of head in hands, shoulders slumped
The Inspector turned back to the child
“A special cuddle?” he asked
“Yes, like this” The little boy put his hands around his own tiny throat and smiled, proud of himself.
Sergeant Anand had just arrived, having received a call minutes earlier from his boss ,as he walked into the room he quickly took in the strange scene before him. His normally bombastic inspector kneeling on the floor talking gently to a young boy, the hanging body of a woman, two paramedics looking dazed and a man in a suit looking……well, guilty.
“Arrest that man Sergeant” Babbage barked out his order
“For what Sir” This was suicide wasn’t it?
“Murder Sergeant, murder” Babbage knew that he could bring no comfort with this capture and he had to resist the urge to take this poor child into his arms
“And call social services, Anand, someone will have to take care of this poor little blighter”
Written in response to another of Fandago’s inspiring one word prompts