This is where the story I will write begins...
Please stay tuned to follow the journey of this man... Baffeled by pressent, tempted by past...
Oh, and the guy in the pic is supposed to repressent the guy in my story... (Note, my source is Getty Images as you can see on the picture.)
It was a cold, dreary day as David Johnson sat in the Church. The Pastor preached from the pulpit, but Johnson heard no word the man desperately tried to carry over to him and the audience. His mind raced with music, music everywhere. Since he had taken over the job as Chairman of the Cape Town Music School, he had music on the brain for hours each day. It never let him go. He was an early-retired detective -the best and most successful in the province, but he decided to leave his bright future and become a music man.
The Pastor pleaded with the Church members, "...If only you would confess your sin, He is faithful and just to forgive you of your sins, and to cleanse you from all unrighteousness."
'Blah, blah, blah...' David thought. He was only here 'cause his wife had nagged him to go with her. He shifted in the hard, wooden Church pew. He sighed involuntarily and his wife lightly butted him with her elbow.
"Stop that," She menacingly whispered.
He kept silent, and endured the Pastor's "nagging".
"Jesus is the One who payed for all the things you have done wrong - of the past, and the future." The Pastor said and lightly banged his hand on the pulpit while indicating at the huge cross behind him om the wall.
'Jeez, must have been a rich guy...' David thought and grinned. He knew little to nothing about this "Christian religiom" that his wife was addicted to. His late father was an Atheist, as was his late mother. All he knew, was that this "Jesus guy" had a lot of power over His followers.
"...and the grace of God be with you always, Amen." The Pastor finished and David looked at his wife...
"Is this the part where we head for the clearly marked exit?"
His wife frowned at him. His disbelief sapped her strength daily, "Yes Dave."
It was a silent drive back towards their home.
"Did you hear a word the Pastor said?" His wife asked, as if in thought as she looled at him.
"I heard every word..." He said and tried to supress another grin. 'Of course I heard every word, I just didn't listen to it!'
His wife shook her head and looked away at the cars he passed on the highway.
It was a terribly stolid afternoon in the Johnson house. Not one word was spoken between the spouses. They ate dinner, showered, and got in bed after David did his "safety checks" to ensure that the doors were locked and the windows tightly shut.
He dozed off with thoughts racing through his mind... 'This Jesus seems to promote silence between me and my wife. I just don't understand why? Why would He do such a thing. I must do something about Him. But what..?..'
01:27a.m.
The phone rang and he got out of bed, quite groggy, to answer it outside the bedroom.
"Yes..? David..."
A man spoke on the other end for a while...
"What!?"
01:53a.m. he arived at the music school. Blue lights of police cars greeted him as well as yellow tape. He saw men walking into the music school's doors and paramedics with their first-aid cases and white gloves. He rushed out of his car and reached the first police officer writing in a book. "What the heck happened here?"
The cop was not very inteligent -or so it seemed in the night light, "A person died... Giving us a lot of paperwork..."
David angrily turned from him on his way to go into the music school. He was stopped by 3 officers.
"I am the Chairman of this facility and I demand entry!"
"Sir, we are investigating, no entry is allowed!"
A well dressed figure clad in a long Russian style coat came forward. He jerked the police officers away from David.
David was shocked when he recognized the face of Peter Goodall, a former partner in all his detective cases.
He embraced Peter, "Wow, old friend, it has really been a long time."
"It has..." Peter said briefly. He never spoke much, but was always thinking, always probing areas in which he could catch the perpetrator, either red-handed, or in a manner that person never expected. He was thinking about this case, David could see it.
Peter bobbed his head to the door, indicating David to follow.
The door was being examined by forensic specialists and an area in the hall was cordomed off with yellow tape as photographers were busy snapping pictures of blood on the floor and wall. David walked next to Peter as the lights were all lit. Memories sprang into life in his head. How many times had he and the man next to him walked side by side to/from the scene of an investigation?
Peter pointed to the lights, "whoever killed this person left the lights on, all the lights that lead directly to what I presume is a classroom." The two made a left turn and then a right turn into a classroom where a corpse laid jumbled into a position on the floor. Peter went closer to the corpse and pointed at her chest as he explaned matter-of-factly, "Stab throught the heart, but no blood anywhere here except in the hallway. The suspect stitched the wound shut after he or she killed her and left a slit in the clothing showing exactly where the stab and stiches are. The corpse was laid here gently, this wans't the scene of the murder; no signs of struggle, nothing broken, not blood stains, not even the freakin' carpet is skew."
David was stunned. "The corpse" was one of his music teachers. A lovely woman; kind, honest, well-spoken of, and adored by her students. Who would kill her? David examined the corpse afar off... Old training and experience crept back into his mind.
She laid in an awkward position. He took out his phone and snapped a picture of the dead person. He studied it for a while. She was laid on her side, her legs curled up behind her as far as possible and fastened with a black rope. Her arms were laid straight above her head, making her almost apear like a golf club. David studied the picture more and showed Peter.
"Looks like a damn golf club!"
Peter then looked up and thought for a moment. He pointed at cut-outs on the wall, all aranged in different positions and were milti-coloured. They were all shaped in the style of a music note (similarly looking to a golf club).
David looked up at Peter who was quite taller than he himself.
"The killer left us a message, didn't he..? This won't be the last time we see a corpse in the classroom..."
What happens next? Will there be another "corpse in the classroom"? Follow my account and give me an upvote if you want to find out, and tune in regularly to help solve the mystery of the "music school assassin".
Please leave any comments below on thoughts you have. Any way I can improve in Part 2?
N.B. excuse the spelling if you see an error, I did this very late.