The lifeless form of the victim lay mangled on the floor. The killer right there. Caught red handed. She was the first suspect in any case. Being caught in the act just clinched it beyond all doubt. The identity of the victim was not known. Let’s call him Jack Sparrow (errrr…). The question which hung heavy in the air was how did our killer get to the victim? Whereabouts was Sparrow at the time of the attack? These were oft repeated questions till they began sounding like corridor conversations.
Then a witness came forward. As witnesses go this was a singularly unexpected behaviour. But this evening had been bizarre so all leads were forthcoming. Sparrow had been seen earlier today lurking outside in the fogging morning. His faint presence, perhaps echoing of impending death, was last seen on the periphery of the balcony. The witness admitted to opening the connecting door and that is presumably when our killer ventured out. The phantom then struck and the gruesome deed was done.
The ruthless connivance of it all! The toying and the playing the waiting game. Watching the last breath leaving the body. Just a heap remaining of a living being. The killer on the other hand with mouth slightly agape and wide with joy. No remorse. She had a free run with Sparrow for quite some time before I got to the crime scene. It was a macabre mess.
Cleaning up a murder site is not easy. Removing the corpse and the blood is a stinky job. But someone has to do it. Leaving it unattended just messes it more. Once done, there is no trace of the horrors which had unfolded at the site. All traces were wiped clean. All that remained was the headless pigeon carcass outside and the restlessly wandering Cat inside.