The next morning, I put the TV on and there were news that a man had been stabbed to death at Well Hurst Car Park at 10:20pm. That was the time I was there.
I got changed, went out of the house and got into my car and went to the car park. The police were still there; forensic experts were trying to find evidence. There were drops of blood that were being cleaned up. I went up to the Inspector and asked him for a list of the suspects.
The first suspects were a gang called the Steelheads who hanged out in Cleckton, not far from the Wellhurst Car Park. I got into the car and drove to the Cleckton area. The streets were littered with rubbish and the roads were narrow. There was graffiti on the walls. The place was deserted. I parked in a side street and walked towards a building. I knocked on the door, seconds later a man opened it but not fully.
“Who are you and what do you want?” he asked in a drunken voice.
I pulled a badge out and showed him, he opened the door.
“What do you want?” he asked.
“I just want to ask a few questions to your leader.” I told him
After I’d spoken to the Steelhead’s leader, I knew it wasn’t this lot. Their faces were thin and pale. They looked as if they hadn’t eaten for some days. The next suspect was a man named Roger Banks. (People called him the Ironfist). He had just gotten out of jail, he had been in for murder but they didn’t have enough evidence. The person who was a killed was a witness to the murder Roger Banks had been accused of, so he was a very big suspect.
He lived in a good quality environment. There were lots of people walking around here. I parked near the pavement, and looked at the house. It was a very large Victorian house with a sports car parked outside. I rang the bell, quite some time later a woman opened the door.
“Is Mr Banks in?” I asked her.
“Who’s asking?” she questioned me.
“The police,” I answered her.
“Rog, cops are here, leg it,” she shouted, she closed the door and bolted it. I tried to put my foot in but I was too late. I kicked the door but it was solid as rock. I quickly ran around to the back of the house and I heard a car door opening, I saw them both jumping into a BMW. I tried to get the plate number but they raced off.
It was about two hours later that the police had finished searching the house, they had found no evidence linking him with the murder but then why had he ran away?
Was he hiding something?
While the police were finding Roger, I decided to question the final suspect. His name was Jack Walker who lived next door to the person who had been killed. They both didn’t like each other; they’d had many quarrels. I knocked on the door and Jack opened it himself. “I want to ask a few questions, Mr Walker,” I told him.
“Fine come in,” he said in a jolly voice. “Do you want a cup of tea?” he asked me.
“No thanks,” I answered.
“Where were you on Sunday, May 11th 2003, at precisely half ten?”
“I was at the pub, down the road, its called The Horse,” he told me.
“Can anyone vouch for that?” I asked him.
“I don’t know, there were a few people, but they weren’t from around here, I think,” he told me. You could see he was getting a bit anxious.
“Alright, thanks for your help, Mr Walker.”
“No problem, are you going to go to The Horse and ask people if they saw me there?” He asked me, he was looking very worried now.
“Might do.” I answered.
I walked out