Author's note: An entry for RuckusQuantum's Mystery Writing Contest. If the story seems incomplete, don't waste sleep over it, because hopefully a character-background pasta about Caldwell will be here soon.
IT SAYS HERE that he’s an insomniac - I’m not sure. These files say he kept whining he couldn’t sleep in the asylum, before escaping and killing all those guards-“
“How do you think he did that, Laura?”
“I’m not sure.”
They were standing outside of a Starbucks, the bitter wind whipping around their coats as the faint odor of coffee tempted them with its sweet wafts of bliss. But Laura Harding had other things in mind.
“This is so much work, Douglas. He’s literally left no clues of where he is, and there are no witnesses to survive the tale. I do wonder how he killed all those guards. Not all were drunk, you know. And he didn’t have weapons, but they did-“
“He used to be a police officer before becoming part of the Army. Then it says he became a martial arts trainer until one day he beat one of his trainees to death. He does have combat experience, Laura.”
Laura was uncomfortably aware of Douglas Miller’s presence right behind her, reading over her shoulder at the files. Douglas was her partner in everything, ever since childhood. They had been best friends, and still remained so.
“Let’s see. His last murder was at this place and maybe we can ask Boss for some help.” She tucked the map into her pocket and started walking to a parked BMW nearby. “Do you need a ride home, Douglas?”
“Nah, Laura, I can get around just fine.” He smiled and went his way, waving at her with a gloved hand. Ignoring the twinge in her stomach, Laura stumbled to her car and started it with a loud rumble. Pressing her foot down on the gas, the car smoothly drove over the newly paved road, and she hummed to herself. Being a detective wasn’t as fun as it seemed. For newbies, there were no magnifying glasses, old-fashioned trench coats, or any of that sort. However, there was often the thrill of finding a clue; it’d be a blood smear, several blades of bent grass, a discarded knife. She and Douglas would laugh it out afterwards, joking about how the criminal “was too fancy for himself.”
However, Laura had encountered a problem here. The killer had escaped from an asylum, murdering all the active guards on night watch with bloody brutalness. The cameras somehow had been turned off, which meant he had, at some point, sneaked into the computer room, most likely murdering the guard stationed there, and turned the electric system operating the outside doors, and few would know, as he had also shut all the cameras. Other inmates were asleep, most likely not conscious enough to realize they had a free exit open.
Laura, lost in thought, rolled up to her house, positioned neatly near a lake. She was a single woman, having just graduated out of college, and was still trying to find a spouse. While she wasn’t desperate enough to start signing up for dating websites, she still tried to impress a man…her train drifted towards Douglas. She shook her head. “He’s my friend. That’s it. That’s all he is.”
Shrugging off her coat, she sat in front of her computer, noticing some emails in her inbox. She first read those sent from her boss.
-Hey Laura, Douglas just called me for some help on this Robert Caldwell murder case. You know I can’t do that, I have other matters to do.
-I’m not sure what you guys need anyway, you’re a good pair, and what really do you need? Weapons? Vehicles? More buddies?
-Well damn, you’re good at your job. If you desperately need help, give me a call. I’m sending some other detectives to check out the latest scene.
