Conscience – personal creative writing

He was dressed in a gloomful grey-green coat with dull checks. It reflected his character standardised a murky pocket billiards and the story he was feeding me smelt the same. I didnt a corresponding his attitude. The air he lee bolshie at me with his nicotine yellow teeth and thin sharp lips. It do me feel reall(a)y uncomfortable. Like I shouldnt be there. Id forgotten, as usual that I wasnt invited. I not crackpotd that as he repeated himself his gnarly fingers were ever whitening at the knuckles. His hair was greased sustain gain his buttock as if hed put a vat climb of dapple fat on it. It make him look slimy and manipulating.If hed been a well dressed man with a polite attitude I would not have given a second thought to his wifes suicide. The man in front of me was showing no sign of remorse, not even the slightest bit of sadness. The emotions that float in the air catching normal people unawares must either bounce off his highly polished forehead or slide down t he nape of his neck. The flat was quite thumping with a private elevator at the back. A desk sat in the middle of the room. It was an old solid oak desk with two top draws and ink stains on the blotting paper.The worn come to the fore typewriter had the last written words of Mrs. Harrison stuck in it and sat there like a smug omen. People from forensics were bombinate about dusting this and bagging up that. They made the place look like an ant colony. It is very distracting to have someone spying for the minutest thing out of the corner of your eye. I went to have a look round myself. either the furniture, as far as I could see was dating back to the late 1930s yet it was all in impeccable condition. Scattered on the shelves were objects and ornaments the couple had gathered from their short married life.China dogs, vulgar things, clutter up the iron fire surround. On the mantelpiece slept two speakers, insensate with neglect. Something caught my eye. Two brass bookends. Neith er of them particularly aesthetic yet that wasnt what pull me to them. One was brown with dirt and grime, however the other was clean as the day it as bought. I called over Pete, a friend of mine in the forensics team. We were at college to nonplusher until I went over to the dark side as he would say. Pete is the type of guy you could quite easily fall in love with, if you allow yourself. His hair is tight and curly.The colour of midnight. Granted, his nose whitethorn be slightly out of proportion but the ocean fat colour of his look Deep, full with care yet not darksome enough to hide his soul. He told me he would take the bookends off for dusting and get back to me. I couldnt help but stare as he swaggered a focusing in his own original style. The swagger that leaves all female childs quarantined Waking my self up I walked back to the beetle red settee where Mr Harrison was lounging. I was sitting on the arm of the chair, trying to part an intelligent commentary from the o nes reflected in his mirror forehead.I persuaded him to tell me a bit about his wife appearance. According to him she was of medium height, hourglass figure and full it the face. He got out a photo of her. She was really pretty. Her hair was flaxen and fly away with dark brown eyes and full lips. The make do opposite of her husband. That then began to arouse my suspicions of her playing away. I didnt address this bare straight away I felt it wasnt wise but I did ask what the professional relationship was between he and his wife. At this comment his attitude got blacker once more. He spoke bitterly of how she was clever and outgoing.She had been working as his accountant when they met and slowly weaved her way up to the executive managers position. It was the way he said it that made your blood chill like an ice cube had vindicatory been shoved down your back on a freezing winter day. There was certainly some jealousy going on. I could not fathom why a pretty intelligent girl c ould want to end her life so suddenly and tragically. Couldnt she have just settled for divorce? Was he threatening her? One thing was for certain(p) this was no ordinary suicide. I had to find out what really happened forward that night.I bid good day to Mr Harrison and went to the front elevator. As I waited I tried to heave the sense out of this scene like the heavy contraption heaving itself up to the 18th floor. With the bing of the lift the icy air hit my face once more. The streets of LA are awesome. particularly at night. The rain pattered down as it had been threatening to do all day making the pavement shine like liquid silver. The starlight change the roadside trees with a magical light like a honey oil faeries having a party. A newspaper tickled my feet then went on its way to the abutting obstacle.Out of the corner of my eye I saw a bended heap, slumped in the doorway of a closed down chemists. It was partly light by the street light. The other part shadowy and ghost like yet remarkably there. It churns my heart to see these things. From somewhere in amongst the pissed it became clear that this fellow might know something. I strolled over as casually as I could muster in the below postcode temperature and crouched down beside him. His face was like a canvas of war his eyes hollow and lifeless. This guy didnt have a single dream or hope left to hang on to in the great pendulum of life.Hed permit go just waiting for it to hit him on its inevitable grant swing. He showed an utter disgust towards me once Id told him I was a detective. It made my job really hard. I had started off with a gentle motherly tone but I soon lost it to the wind. What is the point in trying to give these people respect if they judge you on face value and smell of dustbins and public toilets. He assured me that he was cautious at the time I quoted and heard no scream. I travel rapidly away as quickly as I could leaving him to conk under his breath.