This Execrable Town

                                        This Execrable Town

An army of black clouds concealed the early morning sky and blocked out any rays of sunshine, desperately trying to peek through, with its dead shade. Surprisingly, it wasn't raining in Pleasantville, but puddles still lay, spread out across the street, from last night's rainfall. Anyone would assume that a village called Pleasantville would be pleasant, but in fact, it was a town that could only be described as grey. Litter floated around the street due to the crisp breeze, seeming to be on their own morning stroll, and nearby, a plastic bag flailed frantically, trying to escape the tree's claw-like branches. It was then, that Detective Thomas Gareth got a call.

He rummaged through his pocket and pulled out his smart-phone, which he answered with a sigh

*        *        *

“It's a peculiar one, Tom”, Detective Derrick Forbes shook his head. “No evidence. No leads. I'm truly stumped.” Forbes sighed. “We need your help.”

Thomas was taken aback - his help was never asked of from other detectives, nor his opinion. He was a 9 year old boy getting left out of the school's soccer team, a loner schoolboy in amongst the popular jocks, but now, he felt like the top-man. It was silly that he felt honoured to work on a case, it was his job and something he should be doing everyday.

A slight smirk lay upon Thomas' lips.

He inhaled deeply, “How will I be able to solve a case you can't solve?”, he quizzed.

“Because you can. Believe it or not, I've been helping you. A petty detective that solves an unsolvable case? That's pretty huge. It'll make you look good, important people will notice and hey-ho, you're Sherlock Holmes,” Forbes joked. “But in all seriousness, Tommy,  we're partners”.

“Thank you, sir”, Thomas mumbled, baffled.

Forbes gripped Thomas' hand and shook it. “Detective Gareth?”

“Yes sir?”

“You're good.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Forbes gave a slight nod of his round head and pointed towards a derelict building enclosed in police tape, “Dr. Gilbert is over there, she'll fill us in”.

Tom was greeted by a pair of dazzling, green eyes and a cheerful smile. A girl, with a petite figure and cute, copper curls. Her thinly plucked eyebrows were shaped into a deceivingly perfect arch that followed the curve of her eyes outlined in eye liner, which made her emerald eyes stand out even more. She waited patiently in front of the black and yellow tape surrounding the small, bleak building. Smiling brightly, she called him over with a gentle wave, “Thomas Gareth! It's nice to see you! Forbes.”

“Nice to see you too, Dr Gilbert.”

“Please, Jenna will do,” she winked. “All we've found that could be of some use to us is an old surveillance camera. By the looks of things it's still working. No fingerprints on the body. No nothing. It's a strange one Tom. I've sent the tape away to Stan – he should be able to find something. Samson will fill you in”.

Gerard Samson was an ex-soldier, a formidable warrior scarred from the combat of too many battles. The best of the best, and he knew it. He had an air of authority that was almost palpable and stood tall with conviction. He faced forwards and held a steady gaze, his natural face was that of a frown, and his dark eyes were small and spaced evenly apart, sitting below bushy eyebrows.  Naturally, his hair was fire, tinted with a smoky grey. The receding hairline revealed a large and wide forehead. He kept his mouth closed, pressed into a straight, thin line and when he spoke his voice was deep and husky: “Lisa Bates, 19, found tied to a chair. She died between 23:00 and midnight. Got hit hard in the head with a crowbar. Found the crowbar in a bin beside her. It was analysed, but no fingerprints were found on it. She was also shot in the shoulder and in the leg and there are multiple stabbings in her thighs, but no sign of the knife or gun either”.