Creative Writing: The Lincoln Murder Case

“This is not about what she did, ” Jackson countered, “This is about what you might have done. We suspect your wife was murdered.”

Barbara Wright, the wife of Thatcher’s farm manager, testified that she saw Mr. Thatcher drive into his ranch between 5:00 and 5:30 p.m. on the day of the murder. She estimated this time partly by reference to her belief that she left work shortly after 4:00 p.m. that afternoon. She was in the kitchen when Thatcher drove into the yard in his truck shortly after 5:00 p.m. She said she did not speak to him and only observed his movements through the window. He left after about twenty minutes. She testified that at about 7:00 p.m., Thatcher telephoned to say that Mrs. Wilson had been murdered. In cross‑examination, she acknowledged that her work records showed that she was not working on the day of the murder, but she explained this discrepancy by stating that she had exchanged shifts with a fellow employee and that this exchange did not show up in the records.

“Oh, darn it! Did I put my cap on the wrong way again?” The man felt at his cap again, and righted it to the correct position. “There. I’m a detective. I need a sidekick—you. We good?”

“We’ll need all the help we can get,” Jenny told him. “Who knows? This could give us a lead. You know, point us in the right direction.”

“Breaking News! During the afternoon of April 23rd, Dr. Phil Johnson was found dead in his office. The murderer is unknown, but luckily for us former detective Stan Walter, a good friend of Phil’s has taken the case into his hands. If you have any thoughts to who the murderer is please report it to the police. Back to you Alex!” The tv turns black and I look over to see who the culprit was and it was my wife Rosalind. “Honey, I know it’s devastating about your loss, but your food is getting cold. Now come eat.” “Ok” I respond, annoyed. At dinner my wife and I talk about the decision of taking the job as the detective for Dr. Phil Johnson’s death since he is my friend. Eventually, she gave in and let me go to my office.

" I am Frenchy Logan, I am head State Detective. I had called your boss to tell him I was claiming this case," I told her coolly as I walked over to the body and started to glance over it.

“No no, let me finish. So he walked up to me and asked me, why I was standing there? So I told him and I told him that I would give my friend half an hour to show up. Then the policeman left. Then a cold drizzle fell from the sky. Then I saw, from a few feet away..”

“Okay,” I said, “my guess is there’s probably several men in that van, all well-armed. Any of the cars around it could be guarding it, and they all probably know what car to look for; that being a white Superbird with a red flash on the side.”

“Did you get a close look at him? Did you notice something, distinct about his appearance?” Detective Johnson asked.

“Well. like I was telling your Chief, we’re investigating a series of home invasions turn child abductions. They might relate to some child abductions a few years ago and I believe that your John Doe might be one of the victims. He may be able to help us solve this.” I reply while looking directly at Doctor Alba.

During the interviews of the family and friends of the suspects, testimony, from Crystal Jones, gave investigators confirmation that the murder weapon was Johnson’s. Michael Stewart gave information to where and when Ashley was with the suspect. Mr. Stewart also informed the investigators that, after Ashley would not preform sexual acts for both suspects, they were angry and assaulted her by slapping her in the face. Later Stewart was told by Jones that Ashley’s body was behind Pizza Hut and would be found in the morning; and that both had stabbed her while Ashley begged for them to just let her die. During the interviews and interrogation, the investigators did not ask a lot of questions; they asked open ended questions and allowed the interviewees

“Interesting, can you give me the name of the person you talked to?” Detective Groves asked Eli.

“I lost count,” Officer Morgan laughs cold and humorlessly as he pulls over their police car around the crime scene.

A murder is common to see, and David Miller, one of our main detectives, is usually the one to fill me in on the information of the crime so far. We later took all the evidence to be further examine at the office. Angelica Brown, our forensic pathologist discovered some more evidence off the body of the victim.

“So you were a detective, huh?” Ending the silence, he pushed his spectacles back on his greasy nose with a pudgy finger while looking at me with calculating eyes. “Yes, but I believe you have your facts wrong Dr. Johnson. I still am.” I replied monotonously and allowed a bit of hostility slip into my words. I loathe when people get their facts wrong, especially if it concerned me.