29 | One Man Down

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Chapter 29: One Man Down

The Chief had not come the next day too

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The Chief had not come the next day too. Sanchez had thought that he would have extracted some information out of him regarding his connection to Victoria. But the trail was growing cold. 

As he sat thinking what to do next, Clark came rushing in. 'Have you heard what they are saying?'

'Nope.'

'Someone called 911 saying they are the Chief's housekeeper. They were in hysterics and supposedly said that the Chief 'isn't getting up'.' Sanchez's eyebrow went up. 'The person who got the call relayed the information to us. Everyone is panicking. Conway and Chris are leaving for his house.'

'Tell them I'll tag along. I don't care if they feel I'm being nosy. I'll join them in a minute.'

'Okay.'

~

Sanchez and team were at the Chief's in twenty minutes. It was a cosy little home, a tad too much for the Chief of the Police Department, though. The door was opened by a fleshy middle-aged woman, who was scared to death beyond a doubt. She bid them inside meekly. They asked what she had to say, 'I don't know what happened to him. He just does not get up. I don't know what happened to him,' she teared up. 

Samuel Conway took the charge. 'Listen, Mrs—' '—Clive,' the lady immediately said. He continued, not unkindly, 'Mrs Clive, you have to tell us clearly what has happened if you want to do your employer any good. Now please, start from the beginning.' 

She answered, 'Yeah, I'm sorry. I should not be making things more difficult. I'll tell all I know.' She sniffed. 'Mr Dillard had told me not to come yesterday. I don't know why, but I never asked. To be honest, I was glad to get a holiday. But he hadn't told me anything of today. So I came. But I found he was still sleeping. He is usually up and about at that time. I got confused. But I told m'self, 'Poor man must be tired from work. Best let him rest.' And I went about my job. But then an hour passed by and he had still not woken up. I went up to his room and tried to see what had become of him. That's when I noticed there was something wrong. I thought he wasn't breathing. I also smelled something icky. I got so scared and did what Mr Dillard always told me to do when any wrong thing happened—I dialled that three-digit number. Then I went to a neighbour and told her what had happened—the good ol' Mrs Boudreau, lives next door—and she told me that I had done the right thing. When I saw you all coming in your cars, I figured out as much the same.'

'Okay. You said you smelled something?'

'Yes, I did.'

'Can you describe that smell?'

Sanchez immediately saw she did not want to answer that question. 'A queasy smell, that. I think—not sure—it was—I think it was maybe blood?' Fresh tears welled up in her eyes. So that was what made her call 911, Sanchez thought.

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