the unsolvable case

The Unsolvable Case


Pale and sluggish, lying in a pool of blood in the centre of the room, his skull smashed, the remains of his brain lay scattered across the room as dark as volcanic sand on a moonless beach. Multiple lacerations to the face. Left eye gouged, numerous teeth excavated possibly post-mortem. Red and blue scratches on the neck. Numerous ball sized wounds to the chest and groin. The room reeked of mouldy cottage cheese mixed with diesel fumes of London. Not a single echo, silence lay like a down-filled duvet over the area, muffling the slightest sound and creating an atmosphere of total serenity. 


Over the past month, three human bodies have been found dead in different locations, smashed and bloodied faces, all with one common entity – a smooth round stick around 7 cm in diameter and at the thickest part around 106 cm in length. It hits a ball with the fastest and greatest power ever, not common for a murder objective. The killer simply swings and leaves, baffling police officers. No clues fingerprints or DNA found.




Toast crumbs tumbled like a waterfall onto his plate, they looked like dust. Dust was everywhere, blowing in the London wind, thick grey clouds were conjoined over the city, concealing the yolk of the sky but failing to shield the crisp air. Sat in front of his fireplace detective Arthur Roberts had successfully completed another incredibly challenging case, he wanted nothing more than to listen to the soft crackling of his fireplace, he tried to ignore any sounds even the slight screeches near his window. As he was getting lost in his thoughts, they were quickly cut short by a bold Brrring! Brrriiiiiiing!


“Detective Arthur Roberts we’ve got a murder case in our hands. No clues of who it is, but we're asking you to come to the murder site." 


The legs of his chair scraped raucously on the floorboards, he hoisted to his feet and rushed out of the living room. Roberts mumbled to himself about the incompetence of Officer Steve who keeps relying on others no matter what time of the day. Detective Roberts hastily put on his new suit as crisp as a banknote, he always had to look his best on every investigation After all, his appearance played a huge role in his success. 


He reached the murder site and squinted at the sight of the corpse, even though he has seen many grisly dead bodies in his lifetime, this was new. 


“Well, what do you think detective?” 


The officers eyes darted at Arthur Roberts scrutinizingly. 


“Jesus, I haven’t seen a body that bad in…”


the words from Robert’s mouth swiftly flew away as his eyes caught attention of a white torn leather glove. He flipped it over and the sight horrified him. 




Each letter was written with the corpse’s liquid lifeline, the contrast of the white glove with the dripping blood was horrendous to look at. As the glove flew out of Roberts’s frail hands, he became a statue, rooted to his place, stomach churning, his heart felt as if a meteor had just hit it. 




He questioned in shock. But he wasn’t scared. 


All of the city murders didn’t bother Arthur Roberts, he was too busy solving cases in other locations. 


“The serial killer was doing all of this to catch your attention sir, all these people are dead because of you” 


Roberts ignored officer Steve and scampered to uncover the truth.


He started to gather suspects with the help of a few witnesses around the area who started giving their inputs. 


“We saw a male, dressed in all black, fully covered…” one witness recalled, “He was approximately six feet tall,” another witness butted in, “I think I saw him wearing a black baseball hat,” cried another, “Oh and he was carrying a thick stick, but we couldn’t see what it was”, “It happened really fast,” “We were frightened, “He disappeared into the street”. 


click, click, click, the noise of the pen frazzled his vigilance. 




He irritably uttered. He didn’t realise what he was feeling. Was he…nervous? 


As he paced up and down the room this feeling drenched his body. His attention directed to the visuals beyond the glass on his wall.


A thick layer of clouds masking the full moon, hails of cold-water droplets pelted on umbrellas as the angered clouds in the sky condensed and contracted.



That what Arthur’s mind felt like. 


In between the crowded city of London.


His head was a tub overflowing with water, he felt claustrophobic with all these thoughts, feelings and words flying around the room. He couldn’t connect anything. He didn’t know why, why he endured this, he never felt anything other than pride and accomplishment.


Officer Steve was right, he thought to himself. All these murders are happening because of me, it’s all my fault and I can’t even solve a murder and now hell kill me too and I can’t solve this I -


Breathe, Arthur, breathe. You’ve done this many times before, you’re a world class detective you can solve anything. It'll be fine. Totally fine. Right? but just as he had cultivated some hope, it quickly erased as his mouth was controlling his thoughts, he couldn’t believe anything now, that notorious confidence flew away like dust in the ghastly winds of London.