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A Shot In The Dark [1] A continuation of 'Siblings'

 
Hyle Troy's picture
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Kirsten’s morning was not going well.

 

She had started the day in a benevolent mood. Yesterday had been Silja’s day off and she had decided to let Silja sleep late. Silja had come home late and had probably had a nice evening with her friends so Kirsten had seen to breakfast.

 

But things had steadily began to unwind. Anneka was in a petulant mood and Joe, well, Joe was like a bear with a sore head. These distractions had lead to burned sausages which in turn lead to Joe grumbling his way out to work and Anneka looking with disgust at the carbonised offering and refusing to eat. Kirsten was nearing the end of her teather.

 

Joe had left for work early because of a call from the factory. He slammed doors on his way out, grumbling. Why he was the only one who could make decisions, Why did the cartridge maker have to break, Why was he the only one who could order parts. What did he pay Taioko for anyway?

 

Joe’s slamming doors had made Anneka cry. Where was Silja? Why couldn’t Kirsten cope without her anymore?

 

She was close to tears of frustration, scraping burned sausages into the bin when there was a knock at the door. It was a heavy, demanding knock. Kirsten wiped her hands dry and went to answer.

 

Kirsten peered through the peeper, outside was a man wearing a brown duster whom she recognised as Inspector Crabbe. He had visited Joe on a few occasions and usualy on good terms. As much as she knew anyway.

 

Behind him stood three NFPD officers, scuffing their feet while looking up and down the street. Crabbe had a serious look on his face which showed more than a little impatience. He raised his hand to knock on the door again. Kirsten opened the door a fraction. Crabbe helped it on it’s way before Kirsten could stop him all four had pushed past her.

 

The shock and disgust showed on Kirsten’s face as the four men entered the hall. This was her house after all and she had not invited them inside. Kirsten fought down the mornings frustrations and opened her mouth to demand an explanation but was cut short by Inspector Crabbe.

 

“Silja Henningsdottir?” He barked, catching Kirsten off guard. Anneka was shouting from the kitchen just to add to Kirsten’s confusion.

 

“My Nanny. Why?”

“Where is she?” Crabbe barked.

“Up in her room I expect. Why?”

 

Crabbe motioned, the three NFPD officers went directly upstairs despite Kirsten’s protestations. Crabbe’s hand on her shoulder stopped her from following. To her horror, Kirsten heard heavy footfalls, heavy banging on a door then a splintering sound as Silja’s door was kicked in.

 

She heard Silja’s startled scream, so did Anneka and she started screaming also. There was the sound of a scuffle then a few moments later a struggling, handcuffed Silja was marchedout of the door and into a waiting van. Kirsten stood, aghast.

 

“What on Earth !!?” She demanded.

One of the Police Officers came back into the hall.

 

“She was err, packin’ a case, Boss. Looked like she was gunna’ do a runner.”

 

Crabbe nodded, and the Officer went back outside.

 

Inspector Crabbe looked at Kirsten almost apologetically through his seriousness.

 

“We have a warrant. She’s been accused of murder. Well, attempted murder at the moment. So long as the victim han’t died yet.”

 

Kirsten’s mouth dropped wide open, She managed to get a few words past her shock. “Murder.. Who?”

 

“Hanne Berg.”

 

The shock filtered everything out of Kirsten’s mind as Crabbe let himself out and closed the door behind him, leaving Kirsten rooted on the spot. It took a few moments before Anneka’s screaming got through to her.

 

 

Ten minutes later. Joe looked up from his ledger as the sound of hurried footsteps on the metal stairs and the sound of his daughter crying got louder. His office door burst open. Kirsten looked deeply upset, frantic even. Joe strode forward and took Anneka from Kirsten’s arms. Kirsten flopped into Joe’s seat and blurted out the news.

 

Comments

Joe Spivey's picture

((I can see Joe having a few words with patrolman Crabbe, and probably not very polite ones.

Stick with me kid and you'll be farting through silk.

JeassiahBlack's picture

((ohhhh, I cant wait to see what happens next! Need a 'friendly' mechanic/ex-bar tender Joe? LOL

Joe Spivey's picture

((As Joe doesn't own or run either a bar or a garage, I can see a spousal eyebrow being raised were he to hire one. Expecially a young, attractive one.

Stick with me kid and you'll be farting through silk.

Hyle Troy's picture

Kirsten, later.

 

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I would rather die peacefully in my sleep, like Grandad, than screaming, like his passengers



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