Mystery of the Guillotine Killer (FrUK)

Chapter three

"So, can you describe the suspect?"
"Yes! He had blue eyes and blonde hair, probably up to his shoulders. However, it was in a ponytail, so it was hard to see. Uhh....he had stubble and was very tall, maybe 175 centimeters. When he attacked me, he was wearing a black turtle neck that was tucked into a pair of slacks...typical Frenchman wear, I suppose." I finished writing down the description and looked back at her. She tried avoiding eye contact with me, and I found it odd. "Is something the matter?"

She jumped, startled, and shook her head at me. "Oh, not at all; I am just eager to get home," she said, smiling her best at me. I nodded at her and flipped to a blank sheet of paper. "Now, when did the attack occur?" I asked. "Oh, December 12, 1920, at maybe eight at night? I have been here since late last night" she finally looked at me, and I nodded. "Okay....now what happened exactly?" I asked. I put my pen down and looked at her with a serious face, now for the story's details.

"Well, I was on my way home from work; it was about eight like I mentioned; I had tried to be careful, especially with the recent news. However, I walked by an alleyway, and he came out of nowhere....pulling me into the dark alleyway. I was near my home; it happened so close to me. So close that my husband heard my screams. When my husband rushed to me, I had gotten a good look at the man's face and clothes; he was holding me down and holding a knife to my neck." She said, and I looked up at her.

"What kind of knife was it?" I asked.
"What does it matter? It was a knife!"
"Yes, I know, but it would help me."
"It was a regular kitchen knife," she said, shrugging. I wrote down the information and looked back at her. "Anything else?" I asked, looking back at her, and she shook her head in response. "Okay then... I will see about releasing you and your husband soon," I said. She smiled at me one last time before I walked out of the room. The information I received is pretty basic, but I am sure it will be enough to solve the case.

"How did it go?" Antonio asked. "It went well; the man you have in custody isn't the killer. He is, in fact, the victim's husband. I have a description of the man and will send it off to be drawn so we can get some wanted posters up." I ordered, making him nod. I handed him a copy of the description, and he held it seriously. "What is your next step?" He asked. "Well, I need to talk to the people who did the autopsy of the previous victims... I need to ask a few questions," I explained.

"Right! I will get you the address today, so you can't start your investigation," Antonio smiled. He walked away with the description in his hand and hurriedly ordered people to do things. "You are heading out already, Arthur?" The receptionist asked. "Only for a bit; I will be back for the information on the autopsy doctor. Maybe another hour or so?" I said. The receptionist nodded at me, and I walked outside. I wanted to do a little more investigating on that alleyway; I was sure there was something else left behind.

~
Once I arrived at the crime scene, I saw someone leaving flowers. I quickly walked up to the person and stood beside them as I watched them finish paying their respects. "Did you know him?" I asked. The man looked at me with a smile. "He was my son....his name was peter. I sent him out that night; I regret doing so," the man spoke. He looked at the grave trouble,d and I placed my hands in my pocket. "Might he perhaps have known the killer?" I asked.

The man looked at me with a lifted brow before shaking his head. "No, I do not think so. I mean, I always taught him to never talk to strangers....but even so, he never mentioned knowing an older man...all he did was go to school and come home." The father explained. I nodded at him and looked back to the grave. "It was cold that night, yes? What was your son wearing when you sent him out?" I asked. The man looked at me sadly and finally spoke.

"I did not think he would be out long.... he only had on a sweater and slacks.....I swear I didn't think it was that cold...I should have made sure he was bundled up correctly," the man said, looking me in my eyes. Trying to hold back as many tears as he could. "Do you think maybe he would have been lured into a trap of some sort?" I asked curiously. "I have no idea what happened that night... I wish I did; I would have told you all I know. Sadly, this is only all I know; you are a detective, aren't you?" the man asked in a saddened tone. "Thank you, sir; you have helped plenty, and yes."

The man nodded, relieved. "Hopefully, you can figure out what exactly happened to my son," he whispered. That was the last thing he spoke before turning away to leave. I assume that once I get more information on each victim's family, I will be able to ask more questions about the people. There was not a target, and all I could do now was wait for the right kind of tip to happen.

I looked back into the alleyway and felt sucked at the thought of what had happened to that child. "This is going to be an emotionally tough one."

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