'Conscience – personal creative writing\r'

'He was appareled in a sluggish grey-green coat with moderate checks. It reflected his character care a murky pocket billiards and the story he was feeding me smelt the same. I didnt same his attitude. The way he leered at me with his nicotine chicken teeth and thin sharp lips. It do me ascertain re eachy uncomfortable. Like I shouldnt be there. Id forgotten, as usual that I wasnt invited. I noticed that as he repeated himself his gnarled fingers were ever white at the knuckles. His hair was greased back fightds tally his human aspect as if hed put a vat extensive of chip fat on it. It do him go to slimy and manipulating.\r\nIf hed been a well dressed to kill(p) man with a polite attitude I would not have retainn a endorse thought to his wifes suicide. The man in front of me was viewing no sign of remorse, not even the slightest berth of sadness. The emotions that float in the air catching design people unawares must either quail comp permite his highly polis hed forehead or slide tweak the nape of his neck. The flat was conciselyer large with a private elevator at the back. A desk sat in the middle of the room. It was an aged(prenominal) solid oak desk with two top draws and ink stains on the blotting paper.\r\nThe worn show up typewriter had the last write words of Mrs. Harrison stuck in it and sat there like a smug omen. People from forensics were buzzing some(a)what dusting this and bagging up that. They made the place look like an ant colony. It is very distracting to have soul spying for the minutest thing out of the corner of your nerve. I went to have a look round myself. whole the furniture, as far as I could analyze was dating back to the late 1930s yet it was all in impeccable condition. Scattered on the shelves were objects and ornaments the pair off had gathered from their short married life.\r\nChina dogs, unrefined things, cluttered up the iron fire surround. On the mantelpiece slept two speakers, dusty with ne glect. Something caught my eye. Two plaque bookends. Neither of them softenicularly aesthetic yet that wasnt what draw me to them. One was brown with dirt and grime, however the early(a) was clean as the mean solar day it as bought. I called over Pete, a friend of mine in the forensics team. We were at college together until I went ‘over to the downcast side as he would say. Pete is the type of guy you could instead easily fall in love with, if you give yourself. His hair is tight and curly.\r\nThe colour of midnight. Granted, his nose may be slightly out of proportion simply the ocean blue colour of his look! Deep, full with care yet not deep seemly to hide his soul. He told me he would take the bookends off for dusting and get back to me. I couldnt help barely stare as he swaggered away(predicate) in his own original style. The swagger that leaves all daughters abandon… Waking my self up I walked back to the beetle red settee where Mr Harrison was loung ing. I was posing on the arm of the chair, trying to spot an nimble comment from the ones reflected in his mirror forehead.\r\nI persuaded him to certify me a bit about his wife appearance. check to him she was of medium height, hourglass figure and full it the face. He got out a photo of her. She was in truth pretty. Her hair was light-haired and fly away with dark brown eyes and full lips. The complete opposite of her husband. That then began to produce my suspicions of her playing away. I didnt address this issue unbent away; I felt it wasnt wise just now I did ask what the professional relationship was in the midst of he and his wife. At this comment his attitude got blacker at a time more. He spoke bitterly of how she was clever and outgoing.\r\nShe had been working(a) as his accountant when they met and ‘slowly weaved her way up to the executive managers position. It was the way he said it that made your blood chill like an ice multiply had just been shoved d own your back on a freezing winter day. There was certainly some jealousy going on. I could not voice why a pretty intelligent girl could want to end her life so utterly and tragically. Couldnt she have just settled for divorce? Was he threatening her? One thing was for sure; this was no ordinary suicide. I had to find out what really happened earlier that night.\r\nI bid good day to Mr Harrison and went to the front elevator. As I waited I tried and true to heave the sense out of this scene like the heavy contraption heaving itself up to the eighteenth floor. With the bing of the lift the cold air hit my face once more. The streets of LA are awesome. Especially at night. The rain pattered down as it had been threatening to do all day making the pavement broadcast like liquid silver. The starlight filled the roadside trees with a magical light like a g-force faeries having a party. A newspaper tickled my feet then went on its way to the next obstacle.\r\nOut of the corner of my eye I saw a crumpled heap, slumped in the doorway of a closed down chemists. It was part illuminated by the street light. The other part shadowy and ghost like yet outstandingly there. It churns my heart to see these things. From somewhere in amongst the steamed it became clear that this fellow might know something. I strolled over as casually as I could muster in the below zero temperature and crouched down beside him. His face was like a canvas of war; his eyes hollow and lifeless. This guy didnt have a single dream or hope left-hand(a) to hang on to in the great pendulum of life.\r\nHed let go just waiting for it to hit him on its inevitable return swing. He showed an utter push back towards me once Id told him I was a detective. It made my pedigree really hard. I had started off with a gloomy motherly tone but I soon lost it to the wind. What is the point in trying to give these people respect if they judge you on face value and smell of dustbins and public toilets. He e nsure me that he was awake at the time I quoted and heard no scream. I hurried away as quickly as I could leave him to mutter under his breath.\r\n'