The Witching Hour Killer

TEN - THOMAS

Saturday 30th October, AM

The drive to the station was surprisingly calm as I crawled down the road next to the Thames. Even the water was calm, glistening slightly from the early morning sun peeking through the clouds.
I forgot what moments like these were like. Quiet London, yet to be touched by the day. It really was beautiful.

Yet, the calm didn't reach me. Although we had the killer safely behind bars, I couldn't help but feel like something was wrong. The memory of what I saw, or what I thought I saw, stood in my hallway still made my skin crawl. I had never been a believer of illusions or crazy visions, but something about it just seemed so... real.
Before I could get too lost in thought, I switched off my engine just outside Scotland Yard and pulled myself out of the car.

"Nice fucking work, Tom my man!" DS Savage slapped me on my back in praise and I threw a smile back. "That was one hell of a confession. How did you do it?"

"I didn't really do anything, Neil. Some killers are just dying to tell their stories. I got lucky. He was chatty."

Neil laughed at my response. "You sure are, chief. Drinks on me at the Lion tonight?"

"Maybe. If I don't get another case dropped on my desk." I joked back as we walked through the sliding glass doors and into the HQ.
As always the station was packed with people going about their day-to-day. Many of them completely oblivious to the world around them whilst they worked methodically on a case or task. I envied their focus and concentration. They seemed unphased by the demons that haunted me. They seemed at peace with the world again after the news broke out that we caught the mysterious murderer.

"Morning." I flung my bag onto my desk and unpacked my lunch. A simple beef and mustard sandwich that I threw together this morning knowing that I probably won't even touch it. My appetite was decaying quicker by the day.

"Good morning, detective." Dani beamed over from her own desk, her happiness radiating but not far enough.

It was then that I noticed a small note on the foiled sandwich with Alana's handwriting;
"Have a great day, my love. Please remember to eat. P.s I packed you an extra treat. Love you x"
I peered into the bag to see a packet of my favourite bbq rib crisps hidden at the bottom. A smile grew on my face as I cherished these small but perfect acts of love from my wife. She knows me too well. The sandwich I might not eat, but she knows I can never turn down a packet of crisps.

"What you smiling about?" Dani craned her neck to get a glimpse of what I was looking at.

"Nothin" My eyes met hers. "I can't be happy coming to a peaceful station? Are you itching for another murder investigation or something, Winslow?"

She laughed loudly. "Har-har. In fact, I could happily go the rest of my life never seeing another murder investigation. Maybe I should switch careers to something more cheery. Like a birthday clown or something."

"Birthday clown?" I raised an eyebrow. "Do you realise how creepy those bastards are? Picture it. Creepy killer clown gets loose at birthday and Daniela Winslow is out to solve the case." I motioned the headline with my hands for exaggerated effect.

"Always so morbid, aren't you?" She prodded. "So you don't think you'll be hiring any clowns for baby R's first birthday?"

"Absolutely-fucking-not." My mouth scrunched in disgust. "Besides, we've got a while before I have to start thinking of first birthdays."

"Aww, daddy Roberts. I can't believe it." She made her way over to me now. "How many weeks is it now?"

"Four." I spoke confidently. "Much to Alana's discomfort though. I'm sure she just wants him out. He's a chunky little thing, too. You want to see the latest photo?"