A body suddenly crashed through a plate glass window at the Brigadier’s house. This wasn’t the first time such had happened but it would be the last. Because this time it was Neville Flanagan Gustaf, the Brigadier himself lying in a pool of blood. Too many men, women and children had died at his hands. No one would mourn his passing.
“Morning Detective,” an officer said. “Are you working solo today?”
“No. Tom is looking around downstairs. No movement of the body?”
“None since I got here,’ The officer replied.
Sophie knelt to examine the body more closely. She fished a small flashlight from her blazer pocket and clicked it on. A few sweeps around the neck and she stood with a knowing expression.
“I am confident to rule this a homicide,” she said. “There is bruising around the victim’s throat that was sustained peri-mortem. Someone either tried to or strangled the Brigadier before he fell through the ceiling.”
For those new to my fiction writing let me take a moment to introduce you to one of my recurring characters, Detective Sophie Marcus. Sophie and her partner Tom, investigate murders for the Charleston, South Carolina police department. I imagine Sophie in her late thirties to early forties, about Five foot and a half, with light brown hair and emerald eyes.
Unless Barbara objects I will follow this story for four more weeks finishing the entire story in 1,000 words. I hope you enjoy. Please comment and tell me what you think!