Three: September 4th 2008Mature


Stuart Ivory strode into the lab with a very serious expression on his face.

“Yes, Stuart. Can I help you?” the frwsh, young voice of JJ Chalmers answered Stuart, gladly, as he had had no work since Monday when the Gordon Case had opened, which for him, was ununsual.

“I need you to take our victims phone, and check it to see whether he had made any phone calls that might be useful recently, copy the phone book, pictures everything, from the phone and put it onto the main database. I created a new file on there especially for this case. OK? Then, when you’re done, check all the files, names and data against all criminal record databases. MI5, MI6, Interpol, Metro, Missing Persons. Anything and everything. Scott may not think there’s any reason to suspect this wasn’t random, but I disagree. Think you can do that?” Ivory demanded, flicking his long hair out his eyes with a shake of his head.

“OK, Detective. I’ll get on it right away and get it back to you as soon as I’m done. You never know, I might deliver it personally!” JJ replied with a cheeky smile.

“Hmm. Well, make sure you do,” Stuart muttered stubbornly, as he handed the brown envelope and PolyWallet™ over to JJ.

He turned on his heels and stormed out the lab in a hurry. JJ raised his eyebrow at Stuart as he disappeared down the corridor. For some reason, Stuart had never liked JJ and he had never discovered why. He didn’t like Stuart because of the way that he treated him. Like some kind of idiot.

“Arsehole,” he muttered after Stuart.

“What we got then, JJ?” Charlotte Andrews asked as she walked out the bathroom, drying her hands as she did so.

“We got to run a Scan and Analysis on our vics mobile. Boy he’s got a big file already. He was only dead on Monday!” JJ informed Charlotte, slightly shocked as he picked up the PolyWallet™ that Stuart had given him.

“Ah! A good old S and A. Haven’t had one of them in a while,” Charlotte said as she picked up the brown envelope and emptied its contents onto the table to her right, “Let’s get started then!”

JJ turned around and put on some blue rubber gloves. He picked up the phone and began to dismantle the phone. He took off the fascias and passed them onto Charlotte to be print dusted. He then took out the battery and removed the SIM card. He slipped the SIM card into the front of the Base Unit. A dialogue box popped up and he ran a virus scan on the card.

JJ passed the components onto Charlotte who took them apart and looked for any suggestion of tampering. When the Virus Scan had completed on the SIM Card, JJ opened up the folder and began to scan through the contacts contained on the phone. None of the names immediately jumped out at him so he sent them through the Criminal Databases. As the computer flew through the contacts and noted down the names and numbers of all the people stored on the phone JJ walked over to where Charlotte was stood over the body of the phone. Just as he began to walk over to Charlotte she took of the protective glasses and placed them on the top of her head.

“Hey, JJ. Come here and look at this,” she called.

JJ hurried over to her casually and peered over her shoulder. She was holding the body of the mobile and was pointing to a tiny little disk on the front of the phone just by the microphone.

“What do you think that is?” Charlotte asked.

JJ continued to look at it for a while longer, then said.

“Looks a bit like a bug. You know, like a intercept bug.”

“Yeah, I know. But what’s it doing on a mobile of a dead Estate Agent?”

“I dunno. But it tells us one thing. That our murderer’s a Pro.”


Scott walked into the building and made a beeline to his office up the stairs and along the corridor that overhung Reception. He opened the pine door and quickly closed it. The blinds rattled as the door hit the frame. As he leaned against the door, he looked at his office which had been re-decorated with a mound of papers, case files, clip boards, brown envelopes, white envelopes and Post-it Notes™.

The fluorescent coloured notes covered the originally grey filing cabinet which was now fluorescent orange, yellow, pink and green. In the corner of his office someone had kindly piled a huge amount of clipboards of many colours shapes and sizes which were wobbling precariously and threatening to fall over at any time.

“Tasteful,” he thought aloud to himself, sucking a smile.

For a moment he felt like turning back round and running to his car and driving home, but he knew that there was a job to be done and it wasn’t going to do itself. That was pretty much already said. So, he sighed, walked over to his desk, sat down and wheeled himself over to Clipboard Mountain and picked one up. It wobbled momentarily then steadied itself. He took one look at the paper on the clipboard and licked his teeth. Desk duty. His favourite job. Reluctantly, he took a pen out his black shirt and got going.

The End

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