Saturday, June 13, 2020

He confessed

Carter’s hand searched the bed for his phone.


‘You’d better get over here.’

‘What time is it?’

‘This is his work. She’s a perfect fit.’

‘Gerry, start again. What are you talking about?’

‘I’m talking about Quayle. She’s marked with his signature.’

‘One we missed?’ Carter said, heading for the bathroom.

‘Killed in the last 24 hours.’

He halted. ‘What?’

‘You heard.’

‘But he’s …’

‘Maybe we put away the wrong man.’

‘He confessed.’

‘Then a copycat.’

‘We kept his signature a secret.’

‘Then the wrong man.’

‘No. Must be a copycat.’

‘Or the real killer.’

‘Where are you?’

A drabble is a story of exactly 100 words.

1 comment:

Margot Kinberg said...

Oh, that's full of suspense, Rob. You say an awful about this case, too, without wasting a word - impressive. And now I want to know whether that's the real killer, a copycat, or something else. Well done