Inspector Charles

Sabrina pulled it violently out of her grasp. 'You should be in that casket, not him!' Sabrina bawled into Clarissa's face.

Sineas walked backwards until he stood between Clarissa and Sabrina. He looked into Sabrina's eyes. 'Leave.'

Sabrina made a wicked laugh whilst she pressed the tips of her fingers on her chest. She gasped, 'This thing right here!'

He dug his hands deeper into his pockets and made a step closer towards her. 'I doubt I'll be telling you again,' he said.

'Oh, no, no, no, loser!' she said waving a dismissive finger in his face, 'don't you ever get the impression that you can just…'

Doreen began pulling her away from them yet Sabrina continued to launch insults at them.

Sineas turned to Clarissa. She looked traumatized. 'You okay?' he asked her.

She nodded profusely, still watching Sabrina drift slowly out of sight. 'Thanks,' she said.

The night was very dark. Inspector Charles pulled into the driveway and switched off the engine. He lit a fresh cigarette. He inhaled twice then rested his head back as his mouth unleashed a long and toxic cloud. He looked around. It was time to mow the darn lawn, he thought.

He finally opened the door and stepped out of the car. He dragged his feet to the porch but as soon as he stepped into the house, he heard a scream. He closed the door and made for the kitchen a few metres to his right. 'What is it?' he asked his wife who was advancing fast towards him. She looked incensed.

'Charles Hemnar!' she yelled, her eyelids twitching. 'How many times have I told you, no smoking in the house?'

He raised his hands in submission. He grinned and handed her the cigarette. 'I'm sorry, officer. I promise it won't happen again.'

She clearly did not find the joke funny as she rushed into the kitchen, her skinny legs almost tripping over her nightdress.

Charles followed her into the kitchen. He took off his hat and sat down and watched his wife throw the cigarette out the window. He looked over at the stove just beside the kitchen window. Something smelt good. 'What's for dinner?' he asked her taking off his uniform jacket and hanging it on his chair.

She turned around. She was frowning, making her bony cheeks more pronounced. She relaxed into a forgiving smile. 'Your favourite; pasta and carrot stew.'

'Mmmm…', he smacked his lips and sat down.

Mrs. Charles Hemnar turned back to the pan on the stove. She twisted and turned the stew. The pot of pasta looked ready as it lay on top of the kitchen table, thirty-five degrees to Charles' right. 'How was work?' she asked him.

He scratched his head slowly. 'Work is work, dear. Work…is…work. We're still trying to find the boy's killer.'

She looked over her shoulder. 'Close?'

He shook his head. 'Interviewed our last suspects today.'

She laughed mockingly as she reached for the plates inside the cupboards just above the kitchen sink. 'You still think one of the students killed Justin Foyer?' she asked him. 'You said it yourself, Charles; no kid could be sick enough to commit a crime that brutal.'

'You can never tell with criminals, Martha. No one can fully understand how these people think.'

Martha placed three plates on the table. She leaned on its edge with one hand and placed the other on her hip. 'But didn't you say Justin was last seen in a bar in WindleDrive?' she asked him. 'Maybe he said the wrong thing to the wrong guy and they took him out.'

Charles rubbed his head desperately. 'Nah, everyone in that bar's story checks out. Haven't you ever heard the saying, that bartender's never forget? The coroner's stamp on Justin's probable time of death is way after the next person left the bar. When that kid was killed, everyone in that bar was in that bar.'

'So it's a dead end?'

He nodded.

She sighed. 'And how's…James? How is he handling all this?' she asked.

'You know James, Martha. He's a tough kid. He'll survive it.'

'I mean, do you think he can handle all this…blood and death?'

Charles laughed. 'Martha, you've met James. He may be only twenty-five but this kid's got guts of steel. This is a walk in the park for him.'

She began to dish the pasta into the plates. 'If you say so, dear. I just don't want to have to receive bad news that something bad happened to that boy. And I don't want our family to suffer because of this case, Charles. And our daughter…what if the killer finds out that our daughter..?'

'Hey, hey, hey…they won't, okay?' he said. 'I make sure of it. My family is my first priority. Even she knows the drill. No one will ever know.' He looked at the empty seat across the table. He narrowed his eyes. 'Where is she anyway?'

Mrs. Hemnar sighed impatiently as she walked towards the staircase. She looked up. 'Sabrina! Sabrina!' She shook her head. 'This child…' she murmured to herself. 'Sabrina; its dinner time!'