Detective Lowe (Preview)

         David Lowe was a police detective, pulling up outside a house in his blue sedan he was there for a suicide; in the early afternoon there was a report of a shot fired. First responders pulled up and forced entry after no one answered the door, after a few minutes of searching the responders came to the study where it appeared the owner had taken his own life; he put the barrel of a revolver within his mouth against the roof of his mouth and pulled the trigger. He died very quickly. Detective Lowe took it upon himself to investigate; there was actually little crime as of late and idling was not of his preference. He entered the kitchen through the main door, a few police officers were waiting there for him.

         “Hey Dave, it isn’t pretty. This way.” Officer Michel was a fairly good friend of David, though he had not known him very long. He had only recently joined the forces of the municipal police department, for a mere three years he had known Michel.

         “Here.” Michel stepped into the study with Dave following. Dave could not bring himself to look away; his head was tarnished with odd streams of blood coming down, his eyes were pale, absent of the glow they once had. The wound was quite large, still fresh the blood was only starting to darken.

         “How long has he been dead? It had to have been recent, the blood is not dark yet.”

         “About half an hour, but that’s only our guess.” Officer Michel replied

         “You bag the weapon?”

         “Not yet. Why?”

         “I am only curious. May I see it?”

         “It’s on his lap. Go ahead.” David walked over and picked it up by the barrel, it was a clear case of suicide; he did not fear he was corrupting the evidence. He set it back down on his lap.

         “Any ideas why he did it?”

         “I can tell you why.” Detective David Lowe was confused; none of the officers in the room had spoken, nor was the voice that had come of any familiarity. He was slightly alarmed.

         “It’s because I’m not in the room; I’m in your head.” Detective David turned pale, Officer Michel raised the question;

         “Are you alright Dave?” David looked at Michel.

         “I’m fine.” The voice came again;

         “Your not crazy.”

         “Dave, do you need to go outside for a minute?”

         “I think I do.” David left the house, drawing a large breath as he stepped out the door.

         “Sorry you had to see that.” The voice stated.

         “See what? I’ve seen that act enough.”

         “Yet you detest it.”

         “Of course I detest seeing such a thing, such however is my job alas.”

         “I’m aware. No less, I do apologize.”

         “Who are you?”

         “Who am I? I am the man inside that house.”

         “How could you be? He’s dead, and how can you even be inside my conscious?”

         “I suppose I can’t really explain it. Not in a way that makes sense.”

         “Well it would only fit, considering it wouldn’t make sense in the first place.”

         “Alright then. I won’t try to explain it to you then.”

         “Maybe it is best then.”

         “Perhaps.” Detective Lowe started walking back inside when the voice came again.

         “You wish to know why he did it?” Detective Lowe stopped.

         “If you could tell me. But how could you?”

         “I can tell you why. But do you in truth want to know?”

         “Of course. It is my job.”

         “Because of guilt. That was why.”

         “What guilt?”

         “Oh, much guilt.”

         “What kind of guilt?”

         “I could tell you. But it wouldn’t show you.”

         “What are you on about!?”

         “You’ll see. In time, Mr. Lowe” Officer Michel stepped out of the house, he walked over to Detective Lowe.

         “Are you alright detective Lowe?”

         “I’m fine, you just don’t get used to entirely that sort of thing. At least if you can, I haven’t grown used to it yet.”

         “Well, detective Lowe I can’t say I am either. You sure it wasn’t something else though? I didn’t need to leave the room myself.”

         “Don’t call me detective, it’s very awkward. Call me David, since your a police officer.”

         “Alright then, David. Clear case of suicide, right?”

         “Yes. How could it be murder?”

         “I don’t know. If you don’t, since you’re the detective I certainly wouldn’t.”

         “Of course. Is the coroner going to be here soon?”

         “Should be a few minutes. Any last things you need to do with him?”

         “No. Nothing immediate.”

         “You need anything David?”

         “No thank you, I appreciate the offer though Officer Michel.”

         “If I can’t call you detective, don’t call me officer.”

         “Alright then, what would you rather I call you?”

         “Call me Mike.”

         “Mike, alright then. Well, I’ll be going back to the station now if you need me.”

         “Alright. Take care.” Detective Lowe waved goodbye before going back to his car. He opened it and got in. Sitting down in the driver’s seat, he checked his watch; it was one twenty PM exactly. He pushed the key and twisted it; the engine stuttered to action, he began turning right down the road he came from. The drive had been a brief one; the suicide had taken place only a few blocks away, it was still long enough to think about things.

         “It’s usually so calm, isn’t it?” The voice spoke out. He came to a stop at the intersection before he dared to reply to it.

         “What is it you want? Why are you still here?”

         “I want nothing. I am here because I cannot leave.”

         “How are you here in the first place?”

         “I don’t know. Do you?”

         “Don’t play mind games.” Finally the traffic had cleared long enough to allow detective Lowe an opening; he took it and turned right continuing the drive to the precinct.

         “I didn’t know we were playing a game.”