The first thing that detective Ema Skye thought as she pulled her battered, off white Ford Focus up the drive to the scene was that it was going to be a long day. The postman had dropped off a letter from her sister, who had had her sentence lengthened for starting a fight with another inmate, over whether defence attorneys lie in court. She then had to endure a one hour struggle through the L.A. rush hour to get to the precinct, only to find that her superior, DCI Dick Gumshoe had put her down to go to some remote part of L.A. to investigate a murder. Not only this, but the prosecutor assigned to the case was none other than Klavier Gavin, lead singer and solo guitar in the Gavinners and a glimmerous fop. She pulled into the small circular courtyard in front of the house, and let out a small groan of annoyance when she heard a familiar revving sound behind her. As she stepped out of the car, she looked over her left shoulder just to confirm her suspicions. Sure enough, there was the one of a kind, purple and black Honda Fireblade, with the ‘ ’ on the fuel tank. Getting off it, the rider, in a dark purple jacket, black shirt and black trousers, with motorbike boots on his feet, a dark purple helmet tucked under his right arm and his characteristic white-blonde drill over his left shoulder. His necklace hung loosely on a link chain around his neck, with a similar chain holding his trousers up.
‘Good morning, fräulein detective’, called Klavier, but his greeting fell on deaf ears, as Ema pulled out her seemingly never-ending bag of her favourite snacks, Snakoo’s.
Ema walked up the huge granite steps towards the imposing oak double doors. It wasn’t until she reached the top step that she realised something was missing. It took a while for it to click. There was no sound of annoying humming, or the heat of another’s body leaning in too close to open the door. She turned, half expecting to wake up from a dream, but she was right. Klavier was still standing at the bottom of the steps next to his motorbike. He had a wounded look on his face and was staring into nothingness. Rolling her eyes, she called out to him.
‘Hey! Glimmerous fop! Are you gonna’ stand there all day looking like you’re a kid without its’ teddy bear?’
After this blatant ignoral, Klavier was feeling rather put down. First, he had vowed not to hum, sing or do anything that might annoy the fräulein detective, although this was for his own well-being rather than Ema’s feelings. He rubbed the back of his neck where Ema had thrown the hydroxiacelunodostrase. It had stung for days, especially after he had decided to go swimming. He had learned the lesson of not combining an open wound with chlorine the hard way. Secondly, he had decided to go to any lengths to gain her friendship. She seemed to be quite friendless in the force, especially after the incident with her sister and the SL-9 case. Because of these, most thought that she was going to forge all the evidence that she ever gave to a prosecutor. Klavier though, trusted her. She believed in science and always carried out her investigations properly. She was also one of the only female detectives on the force that didn’t practically fall onto her knees and beg him for a date. That really is the only down side to being a rock star, he thought.
The shout seemed to awaken Klavier and he strapped his helmet onto the back of the motorbike. Hesitating only a moment, he took the steps two at a time.
‘Sorry, fräulein detective, let me get that door for you’, he said, smiling. Ema was so taken aback by this unknown courtesy, she didn’t notice Klavier placing his hand on her shoulder and opening the door. She stepped through, into one of the most spectacular halls that she had ever seen. There was a huge white marble staircase with the banisters made of black marble. The floor was a huge mosaic and as far as Ema could tell, it was of the God of blood, Khorne. According to legend, there were triplet brothers, Khorne, Nurgle and Nuffle. They had been fighting since the day that they were born, although it was more Khorne and Nurgle that fought. One day, Khorne played a horrid trick on Nurgle. He cursed him. When their father found out, he chose the Gods that they would be. Nurgle was forever damned and became God of rot and destruction. Khorne was corrupted with the curse he had put on his brother so became God of blood and Nuffle, the one that was just as warped but not as violent, became God of war; or so Ema had been told by Lana. Along the walls were paintings that even Ema recognised, Sunflowers by Van Gough, Mona Lisa, Madonna of the Rocks and the Passover by Da Vinci, and Melting Clocks by Dali. Klavier came up behind her.
‘Really something isn’t it?’ he asked. Having him standing behind her reminded Ema of the incident by the door. She turned quickly, hitting him squarely in the nose.
*CRACK*
‘My nothe!’ yelled Klavier, clutching his nose, out of which, blood was streaming. Ema looked seriously shocked.
‘Oh my GOD! Klavier, are you ok?’ she yelled
‘Do I lhuk lhike Ih’m ok?’ he replied
‘Um, um, um I’ll go get some tissue’, she called back to him as he ran to the kitchen.
Searching frantically, she didn’t even consider that she might be tampering with valuable evidence. Finding the kitchen roll in a draw under the sink (which was chrome and built into granite worktops, like all of the other appliances) she rushed back to Klavier. Not finding him in the entrance hall, she moved through the room, following the trail of blood. Each room was better than the next, plush carpets in subtle colours that were co-ordinated to compliment the wall colour, through to sparkling marble in black and white to dark oak polished so highly that you could see yourself reflected in it. She eventually caught up with Klavier in the study. It was obviously sound-proof; the bullet holes in the wall showed the padding. The walls were cream, with a border of black at the top and bottom. The blind and curtains were drawn, the blind a traditional from Japan, brought back from a business trip perhaps and the curtains were black cotton, but extremely thick. The floor was boarded, and highly polished but had scuff marks showing signs of a struggle, along with a few droplets of blood.
‘Who ever shot the poor guy must have wanted privacy’ said Klavier, his voice breaking Ema out of her thoughts. His nose had stopped bleeding, but his handsomely tanned face was marred with blood and his hands were coated with the sticky red fluid. His words drew her attention, for the first time, to the huge solid oak desk in the middle of the room. The neat piles of paper that were stacked on the desk were soaked in blood. However, the most horrific sight was of the body in the centre of the desk. The body was slumped over the desk, his once-blonde hair now stained red. There were holes in the back of his head where the bullets had exited his skull.
‘Oh, this is for you’ said Ema, handing over the tissue to distract her from the nauseating sight of a guy with his brains leaking out of the back of his head.
‘Thanks’ he said taking it from her and cleaning the blood off of his face and hands.
His eyes passed over her face, she really isn’t that bad, he mused, not like the groupies, but still. Ema’s eyes were quite big, but Klavier just thought that it set off the bright aquamarine of them. Her long, dark brown hair was half-tied into a short pony-tail, but the rest hung down, with a few stray strands clung to the sides of her face, like shipwrecked sailors to a life-line. However, her dress sense really didn’t help her. Klavier thought that a short skirt and a three-quarter length blouse would suit her, but Ema had other ideas. She wore a once white shirt, but that was now pink after an unfortunate run in with a red Oxford University hockey sock. Around her neck, she wore a red neck-tie, which resembled the old girl-guides uniform. On top of this was a camouflage green waistcoat, done up with yellow buttons down the front. These, paired with three-quarter length burgundy denim trousers and black high heels with bow tie ankle straps made her look, well, different. It didn’t help that she’d always wanted to be a forensic scientist either, meaning she went everywhere with a white lab coat on, a pair of white glasses with rose-tint lenses (apparently used for seeing blood stains when using a certain chemical) and a pink, brown and gold shoulder bag filled to the brim with chemicals.
*BANG*
‘Oh!’ exclaimed a startled, but familiar voice, ‘Hope I’m not interrupting anything, pal’! Klavier felt Ema leap back, and allowed himself to smile slyly. How strange it must have looked, him scrutinising Ema, with a bloodied tissue in his hand and her standing just over a foot away and both of then in front of a dead body.
Ema felt extremely embarrassed. This was the second time that she had been caught in an uncomfortable situation with Prosecutor Gavin and this time, it had been her superior who had found them.
‘Umm, I… we were just… erm…’she started to stutter out. Here boss, D.C.I. Gumshoe saved her,
‘Anyway, pal, the forensic team’s here, and good job too. It seems the killer’s got themselves injured and left a trail of blood to the door. There seems to have been some sort of fight in here. If anyone asks, I wasn’t here because I shouldn’t really be here, but you weren’t answering your cell so I decided to check on you’, he said. Promptly, as if on cue, the forensic team filed in. Ema’s blood started to boil with jealousy. Apparently, Klavier picked up on this as he tactically started to walk towards the door, and she automatically followed. They arrived outside and Ema sat on the steps looking up to the sky. The clear day was rapidly receding as huge grey clouds swept in from the south. It was getting cold but she didn’t want to cower in the lovely warmth of her car. The steps gave room for contemplation. Why do I let him get me in those kinds of situations? She questioned herself he’s my BOSS for God’s sake! Her mind answered immediately, because he’s more than…
‘FREEZE!’ yelled Gumshoe.
Ema almost jumped out of her skin, her heart shot into her mouth and started to beat faster than the horses’ hooves at the Grand National, but the command wasn’t meant for her. Instead, Gumshoe’s gun was trained on Klavier, who looked like he’d seen a ghost. ‘Klavier Gavin, you’re under arrest for the murder of your older brother, the released prisoner, Kristoph Gavin. You have the right to remain silent, but anything you do say will be taken down and may be used against you in a court of law. Anything that you fail to mention and later rely on may also harm your defence.’ As Ema watched as an officer fastened the handcuffs around Klavier’s wrists and push him into the back of a patrol car, she felt as if she was frozen to the spot.
‘Hello, Wright and Co. Law Offices, Phoenix speaking, how…’
‘Nick?! Look, I really need your help! They arrested Klavier for killing Kristoph, I busted his nose and that’s how his blood got at the scene and besides, we were working a case all last night so he actually has an alibi, they won’t listen and yeah, anyway, I need you to defend him.’ Ema gushed down the phone. At the other end of the line, Phoenix shot Kristoph a horrid glare and mouthed to him, this is entirely your fault. Kristoph smirked back at him and uttered a short bark of laughter as Phoenix rolled his eyes.
‘So, Ema, when’s the trial?’ he asked.
‘Tomorrow’, she replied.
‘Ema, how many times do I have to tell you, NOT TO GIVE ME A CASE FOR THE NEXT DAY!!!!!!’
News
Site map
SitemapIndex
RSS Feed