Assassin

No POV:

“The body was shot very recently,” one of the detectives from Interpol says, “in fact it is still warm.”

“The assailant must be still there then I will check on the guest list.” Another one of them replies.

“It is useless. When I first arrived many of the guests had already ran away by that time, the shooter must have left taking advantage of the commotion.” the first detective comments.

“Send the body for post mortem; we cannot say anything more without doing the necessary tests.” He says while moving to the next room of the theatre.

The detective was a man in his thirties, with a short trimmed beard, curly-hair and an Interpol badge on his suit. His clothes-a white shirt and suit were clean, other than a recently acquired coffee stain on his white shirt.

“Are the witnesses here?” He asks one of the guards guarding the room grimly.

“Yes sir,” he replies respectfully

The detective enters the room, as his shiny black shoes without a speck of dust squeaks against the pristine floors of the theatre.

“Hello everyone,” he says to the witnesses in order to grab their attention,

“I am detective Adams Carlington, you guys can call me either Carlington or detective. I am here to ask you a few questions regarding tonight, I know it has been a long night and most of you still cannot believe that someone you were close to or acquainted with, would be killed all of a sudden. Well my job is to catch the killer and hopefully you guys will cooperate with me peacefully.”

The witnesses look at him not knowing what to say. The witnesses included a young child, a woman in her twenties, an old man in a butler uniform and a waitress from the theatre. They all looked quiet nervous other than the child, who kept sobbing and calling out to his grandpa.

“So your name is Gerome Carte, I am sorry to have detained you after this sudden tragedy but there is something I must ask, when did you notice that you grandfather was killed?”

Gerome looks at Detective Carlington with his innocent eyes and starts sobbing again.

“Grandfather, he was holding on to my hands ever since the electricity surge. Then suddenly there was a loud ear-piercing noise. I let go of his hands to close my ears as my ears drums started hurting. When I tried to grab my grandfather’s hands, after the pain subsided, I could not find them. I thought he left me alone.”

“Everything is going to be fine. I am sure you are a very brave boy. There is absolutely nothing to cry about. I am sure your grandfather did not leave you; he simply went for a better place. I can assure: he is looking out for you from there.” He tries to console Gerome but fails since Gerome cries even louder.

Soon he dismisses Gerome and questions the other witnesses. The young woman, who is an aspiring journalist-in-training, and the butler who had accompanied the old man who was killed, as well as the waitress were as helpful as the crying child who was questioned before them. In short there were no leads or clues from the witnesses.

“No clues from the witnesses,” detective Carlingtons said to his colleagues.

“This is a pretty serious case but here we can find no clues at all from the crime scene or witnesses,” One of the colleagues retorted.

“To actually kill off a retired army official, I wonder if it is some struggle for power.”

“Could be, I will call Interpol and ask them to find all army officials, Gerrik might have been in contact with.” One of the colleagues says and then leaves.

“Chief,” A young man in a suit and gloves calls out, we have identified that 7.62 mm caliber ammunition has been used.”

“How many bullets were shot?” Carlington asks his subordinate.

“One,” he answers.

“Only one bullet huh! From this we can understand that the assassin was a skilled sharpshooter. If he is in the army he could easily be a top ranked sniper.”

“Does the bullet have any logos or perhaps a batch number, Rikter?” He asks turning to his subordinate.

“No sir, nothing of that sort, the bullets are absolutely blank. It can be safely assessed that the bullets are either self smelted or the assassin has the means to contract a private smelter to make the bullets to his own preferences.”

“It looks like another dead end if we cannot even find the producer or seller. However that cuts out the fact that the assassin could be part of the black market, since the black market bullets usually have a batch number etched on them.” He grins softly.

“But I wonder how the assassin could get inside the theater with such a big gun in the first place. The securities would have caught him unless one of the workers was his men and placed the gun on its designated spot.”

“Did you check the CCTV s?”

“We couldn’t sir,” Rickter replied, “The assassin probably had helpers who caused the electric surge that ended up short circuiting the CCTV s. And every electronic items connected to the CCTV s malfunctioned.”

“What! What about having any backup data?”

“None sir, they only backed up their camera data once every week and they did not back up this week’s yet.”

“Looks like we are in a pinch Rikter, both of our promotions are at risk right now. The assassin was incredibly smart, not leaving any clues. Hopefully the post mortem will reveal something that will get me something extra in my paycheck.” Carlington sighs cluelessly.