𝙸𝙽 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙴𝙽𝙳 || Original Story

eleven | questioning

The doorbell rang at eleven o'clock the next morning.

I was sat in the study, reading besides the open window when the shrill cry of the bell rang through the hallways of the house. The noise was sharp, angry, demanding.

Whoever was there meant business.

I got up, went to the door as quickly as possible and opened it cautiously to reveal a man in his late fifties, who was dressed proudly in a police officer's uniform. His blonde hair was now mostly grey from premature ageing and there was a thick, grey moustache sitting on his top lip, making him appear very fierce indeed. His dark brown eyes weighed me up and down as soon as he saw me, scanning for a better judgment.

"Mr Bailey, is it?" He questioned, his thick Yorkshire accent stern.

I nodded in response.

"There has been an unusual increase in disturbing activity," he explained. "I just wanted to ask you a few... questions on the matter."

His pause wasn't a good sign. I didn't like it at all.

"S-So," I began, furrowing my brows in confusion. "You're s-saying that I'm r-related t-to the matter?"

"Oddly, enough, sir, things escalated when you arrived. However, I'm not throwing the blame around. But perhaps-"

"Officer Thompson!"

We turned to the path where I could see Katelyn skipping up, a basket looped round her arm. I could even see flowers sticking out from it and I'd never been so glad to see somebody. I hope she'd became my guardian angel and had inadvertently come to my rescue so I wouldn't have to face questions I didn't know the answer to.

"Good morning, Madam Mayhew," Thompson greeted, tipping his head courteously. "How are you on this fine day?"

"Very well, thank you," she smiled, slowing into a walk. "And yourself?"

"Not too bad. Just doing my duty."

I couldn't tell if she was mocking him or whether she was being genuine, but Katelyn tilted her head slightly, puzzled. "And what's Edgar got to do with things? Heaven knows why he'd be in trouble."

"Well, I was just saying that since Mr Bailey has arrived, disturbing activity in the area has increased."

"What sort of disturbances?"

"Vandalism, theft, and midnight ruckuses," answered Thompson, evidently furious. "The neighbourhood hasn't been like this in many, many years. I've had three complaints in the past fortnight."

"I've b-barely been here a f-fortnight," I remarked.

"I don't just get three complaints in a fortnight, Mr Bailey," Thompson said exasperatedly. "Maplebrook is a remote paradise. Everyone here knows their place and you show up out of nowhere and all of a sudden I have to deal with petty crime."