The distance (original)

Yes i read up on this and WELL DONE PHILIPPINES. I just had to dramatise.

"Now look, I've heard you've had some involvement with drugs," I say.

I smile at him, sighing slightly.

"And I thought I could let you off with your thing with the surgery but no, you just had to come back again and again and again as a suspect because of you being physically unable to not seem like the one responsible. It's absolutely impossible for you..... to even slightly take a moment—," I say.

I show him the search permission.

"If i find drugs, you're arrested. That is.... unless you have something to say before that," I say.

"My fiancé has taken—."

"Can anyone confirm that?"

"I mean yes.... she's been involved in a few assaults," an officer says.

"And I didn't hear about those assaults for what fucking reason?" I ask.

"Because we didn't think they were actually relevant—."

"I looked for violent tendencies with a possibility of assisting in a murder across the goddamn sea and you didn't think someone involved in assaults and that goes across the fucking sea inside these few months doesn't seem like a valid suspect?"

He shakes his head.

"Un-fucking-believable," I say.

I look at my suspect.

"Why didn't you mention this drug thing to begin with?"

"I didn't think it was that important."

"Oh really now? My GODDAMN question was about possible violent people and your fucking first idea is to take the blame. I appreciate it but you do realize this is called keeping information. Which gets you a few months in this lovely place called jail. So please start talking!"

"My fiancé has been talking to Someone British for a while now, I don't know what they're called or why. But I do know they spoke about drugs from being involved myself ages ago. Well, it was about people with influence and debt. Lots of debt. Some go to million from what i heard. And they were trying to 'get away' so they don't get arrested or have to sell on to pay for the drugs, a common practice for idiots. Debt always first, some of them will be pissed. So as far as I know, my fiancé went to Ireland to go across to Britain so she could give some helping tools seeing as most of the things are illegal in Britain."

"That's genius!"

"So as far as I know, some Scandinavian was involved. Last name was Järvinen or Peltonen or Puronen, nen nonetheless."

"Thank you," I say.

I call Echo, who picks up immediately.

"What's up?"

"I have a last name for you!"

"What is it?"

"Järvinen, Peltonen or Puronen."

They start laughing maniacally.

"Echo?"

"Just.... Järvinen is the Smith of Finland. Everyone knows at least one of them! Peltonen isn't much better and Puronen is sort of rarer. Oh my God!"

"Oh dear."

"Yeah, I have some people to look into. Thankfully, drugs aren't very common here. So I might be able to track down a few possibilities. Most likely not but you can always wish. Maybe twenty to fifty with good luck."

"Have fun," I say.

"You too!" Echo says.

We end the call.

"Now, home investigation. Can you give me keys?" I ask.

He nods, giving them to me. After he does, he shakes my hand,

"Christian."

"Why does— oh that's your name! AJ, hi."

"Hello. So if this gets done with, can I avoid jail because I helped?"

"I can try to help you out if we can get everything in order," I say.

Christian nods and I take my keys.

"Let's go," I say.

An officer takes me to his car and I sit next to him.

"Is she going to be violent?"

"I doubt. But I recommend backup."

He takes his thing and starts speaking,

"We may need backup. We have tracked down a helper of a murderer."

They talk for a while as we drive past different houses. The address is on the back of the keys, in a keychain.

"Stop!"

We stop and I step out.

"AJ, we should wait."

"She might have seen—."

That's the moment the gunshot echoes all around.

"Oh shit, take cover!"

"Suspect has a gun!"

I hide behind the car. Holy shit, I wasn't expecting.

"I don't think it's legal," I say.

"But we have a pretty good gun law system."

"Before we did, there were guns going around. This might have not been reported."

"Oh fuck."

"Say something I can't relate to."

I actually start thinking about what I should have told my family. I'm not like this but there is something terrifying to the situation, I don't think it's hard or really easy to understand. It's a situation where your instincts go 'i'm gonna die'.

"Calm down, Calm down."

I don't have panic attacks, I don't normally get these! Fuck!

"Hey, breathe. In and out."

I do as told and look on as the rest of the police come on the scene and get in, arresting the woman (as well as carrying one of their own in their arms. Not dead but passed out due to maybe shock or blood loss, couldn't get a look.)

"Holy fuck," I say.

I look around.

"Anybody hurt?"

"We're getting them!"

The ambulance men and women take people. Not a lot, maybe three. Yet again, I can hear breathing... but I can also see blood. One of the things is good and the other is fucking awful, even when your body is meant to bleed it feels awful and it feels worse when it comes out of the wrong places.

"Let's do the search then," I say.

I go into the apartment, the immediate smell makes us look at each other.

"Oh dear."

I start going through drawers and fridges until i get to the drugs. However, my partner comes in carrying a carpet.

"She was disposing while her future husband was away, the thing is so cold it probably has been in a freezing state somewhere."

I nod and we get back, him carrying the body.