Innocent Until Proven Guilty

The Man In A Pinstriped Suit

The killings had started two weeks ago, one per day, nothing relating the victims, but the brutal way in which they were murdered, which reminded her of when her own parents had been slaughtered. There was just another thing that  connected it all. A man in a brown pinstriped suit and a trench coat, standing in the crime scene, who always disappeared before the coppers arrived. Emily had seen this already and was almost certain that he was the one to blame, why else would he be there? Why would he run away from the police?

Emily sat down on her chair and ran a hand through her hair as she looked down at he map of Glasgow that sat on her desk. "Anything new?" DS Mason Roarke asked as he walked up to her, holding a warm cup of coffee in his hands. Emily looked up from the map and towards him, "All the crime scenes are located within a mile radio from Crosshill station." She said, sighing softly. "Great! Uhm... We could set patrols around tonight. If the murderer tries to repeat it, we'll get them." Mason proposed, smiling softly at her, he was the only one who knew what that case really meant to her.

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It was 01.00am and Emily stood outside of her car, rubbing her arms as she tried to get some heat from the simple movement, she was freezing and there was no sign of the murderer. It just seemed like a regular night in the normally safe city of Glasgow, nothing really happened around there. She'd opened her car's door when she saw him. The man in the brown pinstriped suit and the trench coat was standing on the other side of the road, just staring at her, hands shoved in his pockets. "You..." Emily muttered under her breath as she closed the door again and slowly reached into her pocket for her phone. She glanced down at it as she unlocked it and by the time she looked up at the man again, he was already gone. "What?" She scoffed, looking both ways before crossing the street, her phone still in her hand as she dialled Mason's number, bringing it up to her ear.

"Emily? Listen, I don't think he'll be making an appearance tonight." He started out as soon as he picked up, making Emily roll her eyes. "Ma-" "I know how much this means to you, but I seriously doubt we're looking in the right place." He interrupted her. "Mason?" Emily started out softly. "Yes?" "Seriously, just shut up and let me speak." Mason sighed and nodded, even if she couldn't see him. "Yes, boss." "Great, 'cause I just saw him." Emily looked around and started walking down the street, hoping the man would've taken that path. "What?! Where?!" Mason exclaimed in surprise, which actually caused a small smirk to tug at Emily's lips, same smirk that vanished as soon as she spotted the trench coat man again. "He's walking down Queen's Dr. Heading towards the park." She informed Mason, lowering her voice a bit so the man wouldn't hear her. "I've got to go now." She muttered distractedly as the man walked into an alleyway. "Emily! Wai-" She ended the call and kept the phone back in her jacket's pocket, drawing her gun out instead.

As Emily entered the alleyway, the first thing she noticed was the corpse lying on the ground, same as the rest. The next thing she noticed, was the trail of blood that led to a blue call box labelled as /Police/, it seemed to be from the 1960s by the looks of it. She walked up to it and ran her hand over the old wood, examining it, which looked surprising for a fifty years old police call box. "What the hell is this doing here?" Emily mumbled, walking around it. The sound of a door creaking as it opened, startled her, was someone actually inside of it? She was now hiding behind the box and observed as a pair of cream coloured Converse shoes stepped out of the call box.

"Blimey!" The voice belonged to a man, rather young she assumed. As he stepped further outside, she could see who it was, the man in the trench coat! Emily raised her gun and cocked it, stepping out of her hiding place. "Stop right there!" She snapped at him. "Hands where I can see them!" The man turned around to look at her and grimaced slightly, tilting his head to the side. He was young indeed, his hair was a reddish shade of brown and his bright eyes brown, yet they didn't match his face, seeming so much older. He wore his trademark brown pinstriped suit, bloodstains over the jacket. "This... This isn't what it looks like." He muttered quietly, his accent clearly British and not as rough as the Scottish one she was so used to hearing everyday. "Oh really?" Emily scoffed, pointing her gun at him without a single trace of doubt.

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