Evidence

Well before I leave I thought I'd post again and actually make a stab at doing my 400 words - the following then is today's allotted prose. A short story... 491 words total

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The collection of Polaroid’s weren’t much to go on. A picture of the house from the drive, a shot of a broken window, a photo of the room taken from high up in a corner, a close up of the body with the knife still embedded deep in the poor guy’s chest. Neither the envelope nor the letter would help, and lay there on the desk in front of him. The message was clear, “This is another one, and you don’t even know who he was.”

What he was looking at wasn’t much but it was evidence, something that could prove the crime happened; maybe it would even be enough to help put a stop to these brutal killings. This was the third so far, or at least the third the police knew about. The other two had followed the same pattern, a home invasion where the sole occupant is over come and stabbed to death. And the police hear nothing till a brown envelope arrives through the post. These envelopes each contain enough to locate the crime but never give away anything about the killer.

Of course the most obvious thing to check for would be fingerprints on the envelope, letter and photos. But no help was going to be found there. Careful handling, preparation and clean up had limited any chance a tell tale print would give the police a leg up. The typing on the letter also kept the killers identity further hidden, and it went without saying there was no signature to kindly give away his name.

Mug shot artists would work up an image from the close up, that could be broadcast for the evening news to identify the victim. One of the forensics would have to scan the photos in a lab computer and pour over them for fine details. The shot of the drive gave a partial on a car, so a search would be possible through the databases for any local residences that could be linked with a blue Audi.

The knife was another lead, one of these replica movie props. Those things tend to be limited edition, and so it could help point toward either the victim or the murderer. All in all though, as far as evidence goes they didn’t provide much to go on.

Another cursory examination of the evidence showed the same care had been taken with this package as the other two. With care he scooped up the photos and letter, folded them into the envelope and then sealed it closed.

Leaving the murder scene, exiting the house and slipping into the Audi on the drive he pulled away and drove until he reached the main post office in town. All the evidence went into the big post box. Maybe this envelope would be enough; maybe they could find him soon. If not he’d have to keep sending the envelopes until they stopped him committing these brutal killings.