There was blood everywhere. There was a bloody knife sitting carelessly on the windowsill. If someone disagreed with his comments last week they just had to say. Not lash out in a vicious attack like this. Mrs White bless her heart doesn’t give her address out to anyone, just us select few in her writing group. She’s an old feminist woman with an old Tudor style mansion. I was the first here. Or so I thought. I heard a screech from the conservatory so I made my way in to be greeted with the sight of Mr Gardener’s dead body. I told Mrs White to phone the police and about 15 minutes after she did the copper’s showed up. Mr Potts sat next to me when we shuffled into the claustrophobic living room where we had been directed by the police. Mrs White has a beautiful way of taking a big room and filling it with furniture until it’s on the brink of messy. I looked at the people surrounding me. Penelope (the only other girl other than me and Mrs White) wasn’t here yet. She’ll get a shock when she turns up! Mr Webb was looked a bit shifty, hardly surprising given the situation. Mrs White looked shocked and shamed, that something like this has happened in your house I can only imagine. Steve Talkett looked horrified, just utterly devastated. And then there was Mr Potts who was trying to start a little bit of small talk, obviously trying to ease the tension that had built up between us.
*I have no expierence of being at a murder scene and these characters are totally fictional. Any characteristic they share with reality or real people are total coincidences. Hope you enjoyed it. Please let me know.
Steph
XxX*
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