The Memoirs of a Madman... (Part 1 of 2) - Smooth Criminal

I twisted the handle, half-hoping in my mind that it wasn't open. Perhaps I was just twisted but it was something about bashing in the door with my foot, hearing the wood split and seeing the splinters fly that just made me feel.. powerful I guess. Against my hopes, with a simple twist of the handle and a slight nudge, the door swung free with a slight creak. There was no action to be found here so, much like it always did, my gun stayed safely in it's holster under my brown trenchcoat. I stepped into the house first ahead of my team, after all, I was the senior investigator, wasn't I? Yes, I was and I called the shots.

A friend of mine, Jake N'Wessun walked in behind me. Jake was no "newbie" himself but I had more experience over him but the guy caught on quick and had a witty personality that made him hard to get mad at. I tapped Jake on his shoulder to get his attention.. When I thought about it, the tap on the shoulder wasn't necissary at all. For all I cared, I could've screamed at the top of my lungs but due to experience and a constant state of alert that I seemed to be in even on the smallest job, it was practically a reflex. Once I had his attention, I pointed across the living room to the kitchen. Jake just nodded, I guess he was feeling alert to for some reason, and padded across the white carpeting to the kitchen.

I quickly glanced around the living room. I wasn't expecting to find anything out of the ordinary but once you're in the house of a killer of three innocent victims, you just expect something to pop out at you for some reason. The house had a certain ..what? to it, I couldn't place my finger on it. I shrugged it off as best as I could and headed immediately to my left, up stairs. The stairs wound up and up until it led me to a long hallway. There was a door a couple feet in front of me on my left, opened about five inches. I saw a toilet and a sink.. just a bathroom. I pushed the door open with my toe of my boot anyway and inspected around. As you learn when you investigate more and more things, average places can turn out to be not so average in a heartbeat.

I searched the medicine cabinet of the bathroom, half expecting to find a bottle of perscription pills that were wrongfully given to the man because he'd fooled his doctor. Nothing, just some tylenol and some peroxide. A bottle of peroxide was not going to stand up as evidence in a court. I had to get a move on.

I crossed the hall to a bedroom with a simple bed, stripped to just a bare mattress and a desk pushed up against one wall. The desk had magazines and papers scattered chaotically over the top of it. I walked to the desk and shuffled through.. Time Magazine, Forbes, a lined piece of paper with some pencil scratchings on it.. Eureka, something.. I glanced over the piece of paper and found it something special, it was not just a piece of paper.. it was the memoirs of a madman. A journal of the events leading up to the killings.. I sat on the stripped bed, skimming the paper and coming to a dead end.. There must be more! I frantically shuffled the papers on the desk, trying to make sense of it and after three minutes and trial and error, the journal had been complete. I once again sat on the bed and began to read and see what valuable evidence I could turn up..

TO BE CONTINUED!

Don't ask me what inspired to write this, it just sounded funny. I cut the story into two parts solely because I didn't want to bore you with one big long part that would make you fall asleep in the center of it! Hehe! :) - Smooth Criminal

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