To find the killer

To find the killer113 St James's St, London SW1A 1HD
My name is Inspector Demitra
I am writing a diary of the path I went down to find the killer of a man named Samuel Alexandra
6/7/1998
12pm noon
As I entered the building with detective Morris we made our way to the room were the crime took place, it was darkly lit with half burnt candles and faintly lit golden chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. The first thing I noticed was a pole in the middle of the room; there were no windows and a strong smell of rotting flesh lingered in the air. The blood specks on the floor wouldn’t have been noticed at any angle as the carpet was a rose petal red color. He was indeed rather handsome. “Moroccan specie” I called him. From the way the mole was perfectly placed onto his face to his muscular build. As I circled his corpse I couldn’t help but notice his lifeless dark brown eyes. They were fixed on me; it felt as if they were following me somehow. I remembered my crime school days and studies of the Victorian times, some students were convinced if they took a photograph of the victims eyes they would be able to identify the killer. I felt a sudden shiver down my spine... He was staring directly into his killer’s eyes when this atrocity occurred. The dried blood had invited the ants to feast. “The circle of modern life” I said to myself. In the trail of my thought I suddenly noticed marks around his wrists. Handcuffs or a piece of thick rope? Was this murder or a sex game gone wrong? “Do we know anything regarding his involvement with strippers Mr. Morris?” I asked “Yes” he replied faintly “I shall email you my report directly Inspector” Clearly this gruesome scene was too much for Inspector Morris to handle. His face had turned a pale blue and I stepped back thinking of the new shoes I had just bought. Studying this irresistible male I wondered to myself how many partners this corpse had taken to bed and most importantly who was at the scene of this murder. Inspector Morris started to take photos of the exterior parts of the building. I focused on the Interior and tried to get any evidence of the potential killer; I moved forward to the pole and found trickles of dried blood stuck in the shape of finger marks. I took a sample of the fingerprints and put it in a bag, I glanced to see where Inspector Morris was but he was nowhere to be seen. I then saw a unique table situated directly opposite the pole. Could he have hired a privet stripper to dance for him? As I crept over to the table I noticed a carved image of a cat hand crafted in the centre of the table. Thoughts started to stream into my mind. Where had I seen this before? Then it hit me, this picture was one of the symbols used in ancient Egyptian times, traditionally the Pharaohs would have one of these beautiful hand crafted tables made for their daughters who would then keep one of these masterpieces until she met her suitor, Was this an original or a replica? Obviously more work had to be done here. I quickly took a picture and chipped a piece off to take to the lab for forensics. So many questions to be answered so little time.

The next morning I woke up with confidence, I began the day visiting one of my old friends Laticia who currently holds an executive chair with the CIA in Central London. Tracing Samuel’s phone records would be much more efficient this way. As I headed through the stone floored alleyway I felt a sharp pain travel up through my temple, it lasted around 4-5 seconds. “Shit these tablets are going to kill me” I opened a small plastic jar and took 3 yellow V shaped tablets straight, without any beverage to ease the pain of the pills sliding down my neck. I approached the old pet sanctuary and knocked on the door three times. “Well Inspector it has been some time, how are things keeping still suffering with the abnormal headaches?” Leticia spoke “Hey Laticia… yes unfortunately. I must thank you for agreeing to this meet up at such short notice, am I correct in saying that we only have five minutes?” “Yes that is correct. Here is Samuel’s call log information for the last year, from the information I have briefly glanced at it would seem Mr. Samuel Alexandra had made an unusual amount of phone calls to a certain number. However eight times’s out of ten the receiving individual did not answer. Also the text messages that were sent to this person all highlight this specific address with different dates and times” Leticia said. I then took the papers from her and glanced at the address. “Interesting” I replied, “This is the address our victim was at when the atrocity took place; I then took the number down and stored it in my phone, Leticia continued, “Also, the fingerprints you sent me belongs to a woman by the name of Jenny Parsley, she was an ex stripper who is now the manager of the ALAL gentlemen’s club. From what my sources have revealed to me Mr. Samuel visited the same Gentleman’s club on Baker Street at least three times a week. I would suggest you stopping by there to interview Jenny she could be the potential killer”
ALAL Gentleman’s Club was situated on the far west corner of Baker Street. The time was 5pm and following unanswered calls to the club I was praying on a miracle that there would be a member of staff to assist me. As I approached the corner I could see the club, but what stood out to me was that all the windows were boarded up. I stepped up and over the broken debris and glass to ring what was left of the buzzer. Shortly after hearing the buzz I entered the club. The whole place appeared to be falling down from cracks in the wall, burnt curtains to broken bottles and ashtrays all over the floor. It was very clear to me that there had recently been a fire. A dark haired woman, that looked Egyptian roughly in her mid twenties walked up to me. I held out my hand to greet her and was given a cold stare along with a sharp response. “What do you want? I’m actually quite busy” she ushered I withdrew my hand quickly to avoid any further embarrassment; this woman was clearly trying to bestow upon me. “Good afternoon, my name is Inspector Demitra; I’m currently investigating a murder” Her eyes immediately lit up and she appeared to break out in a sweat. This made me suspicious and I contemplated whether to play good or bad cop. “Mr. Samuel Alexandra was brutally murdered yesterday evening; from the information I have gathered he was a regular client at your facility. May I remind you Jenny that withholding information is a criminal offence and you could and would be prosecuted to the full extent of the law should you not answer my questions honestly. Where were you at 8pm last night?” I noticed her hands trembling; I believe she knew I was analyzing her behavior so she stuffed her hands into her pockets.
“I was here at the club on my own double checking the Insurance papers, as you can see this building is falling apart some motherfucker thought it would be a clever Idea to set fire to the curtains” she snarled.
“How long did that take you to do?” I asked
“The whole night” She replied “I didn’t leave the place until the morning”
It was crystal clear to me that she was lying.
“Your fingerprints were found at the murder of the scene Jenny” I paused. “I have spoken with head office and shortly you will be visited by two Bobbies to collect the CCTV covering the past 6 months, then we will be able to determine whether your alibi is accurate” She raised her voice slightly which I believe was to cover the tiny pitter patters of her sweat slapping the floorboards. She stuttered as her words dribbled out of her mouth.
“He would never get the message... That I wasn’t interested, I have lost count of the amount of TIMES he proposed to me. I told him yeah I have a boyfriend, but this guy was persistent.”
“So you decided to murder him” I replied
“Well for a start he wouldn’t leave me alone, every night and day he would ring me, he had a table in his house with an Egyptian carving in the centre that he claimed I gave to him, the guy was delusional! She started to break down in tears”
“So what did you do?” I persisted
“I decided to answer the phone one day and he offered me 20,000 to do a privet dance for him” she looked behind me, “look at this place, its ruined insurance wouldn’t give me the money so I had to get it somehow, but that’s not all he wanted…” she paused. “He wanted more from me, I told him he couldn’t touch me but he did, so I stabbed him, he came eat me like a wild animal so I ran and never looked back”
“Jenny Parsley I am arresting of the murder of Samuel Alexandra……” My words got cut as she stuck a 9 inch blade into my belly and ran off.
If anybody finds this diary, It is war she has now started.

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