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Forensic Investigations: A Narrative Fiction

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The smell of death reeks upon the city , a limbless body lays upon the asphalt, mutilated and crushed. It’s 10:37 P.M. with sirens roaring overhead of San Antonio and red, and blue lights flashing, “Get this scene secured and get those tapes up!” yelled the forensic investigator. “My God, what maniac could have done this.” After a thorough search around the body. “Detective, what should we do, there’s no useful evidence around.” “Are you serious, look again. I want something at least.” The assistant runs off as his boss commands. In a nearby bank, 9 hours later, Walter an overweight, short man with a bd comb over, who works as an accountant, is sitting down behind the counter waiting for people on a quiet morning. Ding! The door opens and …show more content…

I got more important business to take care of than to talk to you.” “Oh really now, what business? It’s empty here Walter. Empty. Jeez, so rude to your girlfriend.” “Just leave!” Isabelle stomps her foot while uttering a few inaudible words and leaves furiously.“Who’s she calling girlfriend anyway, I don’t have the time for those things.” Walter thinks as he gets back to work for the customer that walks in after Isabelle leaves. After work Walter makes his way to the gas station when he was interrupted by a detective. “Excuse me, sir, but have you heard about the recent murder?” the detective questioned. “Yeah, I heard it was pretty gruesome.” Walter answered. “Let me know if you hear anything.” As the detective walks away she notices a smirk on the man’s face. Back at the precinct, Detective read over the case files. “Swanson, can you come in here please?” A large burly man walks in with a stain on his tie walks in. “Was the lunch good, Swanson?” the detective says pointing out the stain. “Yes, it was. What did you want me …show more content…

To her surprise, he was nowhere in sight. Being the deranged woman she was, she found her way to the residence of Mr. Berdingle. As if she had no common sense, without knocking, she walked straight into the home. A pungent unidentifiable stench wreaked havoc on Isabelle’s nostrils yet she still ventured forward. Further down the hall, she heard bangs, clatters, and glass being shattered. Slowly, she peaked through the crack in the door. To her demise, she saw Walter striking an elderly man. Instead of running, she continued looking with certain dread. She watched until the distressed man reached his bitter

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