Gemotions

The police officer had been surprisingly forthcoming, his voice flat but informative. The house, apparently, was where a prominent politician had been found dead, a presumed suicide. The information fueled a warmth inside him. Charles grinned as he stood at the entrance.

He pictured the politicians face. He felt a need to start walking the house. He had to be alone. He took long, deep breaths, drawing in the stale air. He was going to spend hours here.

He’d always enjoyed a good mystery. He grabbed a notepad and pen, already formulating questions. What had happened? Why? He began pacing the floorboards, his footsteps deliberate, methodical.