The night is calling

January 6, 2010
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The night is calling.

For the 6th time that evening Lucy’s phone, yet again, began to vibrate on the desk. She looked over.


The unsociable hours of her work meant that Lucy’s mother wouldn’t hesitate to ring at 3 in the morning if that’s what suited her. She loved her mum, of course she did, but she wasn’t 5 anymore, she didn’t like to be checked up on. Independence was a quality that Lucy had but her mother lacked. She picked up the phone:

‘Yes mother?’
‘Lucy I don’t like being alone.’
‘Mum, there is no one there, just go to sleep I will see you tomorrow.’
‘Can you come over please, just tonight.’
‘No mum I have so much work to do. Ill call you later’

With that, she hung up. It wasn’t that she didn’t care, but it had just become repetitive. Her mother was very needy and Lucy found it hard to deal with that, especially when she couldn’t be there for her all the time. She put all of her priorities in her job and as of yet, the majority of the time it had worked out well for her.


It felt like her head had just hit the pillow when her phone began vibrating. Again. Lucy glanced over at the clock, it was 8.30 in the morning but darkness still covered the skies. She grabbed her phone from the desk and without looking at it, answered.

‘What mum?’
‘Lucy, it’s Barnard, you have to come down to the riverside bank. A body has been found.’

Half asleep, Lucy’s eyes widened. She dropped her phone, put on her jeans and grabbed her coat on the way out. That’s the thing with this job, you had to just get up and go, no matter what you were presented with. The air was bitter outside, the ice cold wind slapped against her face. Lucy’s devotion to her job had always proved to be successful and she wasn’t about to let anything change that.

Barnard was Lucy’s partner; when she first went into homicide, he was the one that had given her the inspiration to work her way to the top. They worked well together, he had an eye for detail and she could piece things together. For 6 years now, they had been partners, finalised cases, cleared names, found the truth and never failed.

It was 8.46am when she arrived at the riverside bank, her hands and face were red and numb from the cold but nothing could phase her. She could see the crowds of people surrounding the edge, 6 police cars parked at the road. From the middle of the crowd, Barnard spotted her and beckoned her over; everyone else was shouted to leave. It might seem hard to believe, but seeing a dead body lying in front of her was like a puzzle to Lucy. When she looked at it, of course she felt remorse, but it was a puzzle, something she had to figure out. When she started this job she had to find a way to detach from the emotion and do what was expected of her. All that was in her mind was how did this happen? Who did this? How did they do it?

Lucy was let through the crowds, making her way through to Barnard who stood next to the body. It had been covered over in a plastic sheet; all the journalists stood on by, using it as a boost in their career. Everyone’s eyes shot down to Lucy as she bent down to uncover the body. A small shiver ran up her spine. Holding the corner of the sheet, she pulled it back to reveal this mystery.


It felt like a dart had been forced through Lucy’s heart and for a moment she skipped a breath. She fell onto her knee’s over the body infront of her. A piercing scream echoed through the ice cold air, causing everyone to turn and look down at Lucy. This wasn’t a puzzle, not today.

‘MUM’ Lucy sobbed. Her head sunk into her hands. She could feel people’s hands on her shoulder, offering apologies, shouting her name, but it all became a blur. All the voices were blocked out and the only one she wanted to hear was her mums. She replayed in her mind the last words that she had said to her ‘Can you come over please, just tonight?’ Lucy had never wished so much, as to figure out what had happened but she couldn’t bring herself to treat this as work. This was her mother, how could she reduce her love for her down to a puzzle? How could she look at this body and examine it as a case? All the confidence, independence and determination that Lucy had held for so long had all been lost in that single moment and never had she felt so vulnerable.


Lucy’s hand shook as she forced the key past the ice, into the lock and turned it. She eased the door open and the warmth hit her. Mum had never liked the cold, she thought. The familiar smell entered her nose and Lucy’s eyes began to well up. She hadn’t been able to face this in the past week. So much had gone on and she just couldn’t keep up. Her well known persona of being efficient and strong had been lost within seconds of revealing her mother’s face at the riverside. Everyone had been tip toeing around her. Barnard had even suggested working with someone else to complete the case but the thought of another colleague working on this case made Lucy’s stomach turn. It had been a week today and so far nothing had been done. Her mother had been taken to the SOMEWHERE and they had given Lucy a week to get her head around it before beginning the case. A week to get her head around the fact that her mother was dead? Shows the lack of emotion involved in the homicide department.

Lucy closed the door behind her and walked into the house. It didn’t feel right, being here without being at the beck and call of her mother. She walked round the house, trying to figure it out, find clues or something that could help her. The living room light was still on. On the coffee table was a newspaper, a pen, the phone and a cold cup of tea. She sat down on the sofa, imagining her mum doing exactly the same. Imagining her mum sitting there ringing her up and imagining what she did when Lucy told her to go to bed. The crossword puzzle on the newspaper had been started and there was a small tea stain on the red carpet below. Her mum hated mess.

“How did this happen Mum? Speak to me mum, tell me how this happened”

Lucy stood up and walked to the kitchen, a cold breeze came from the back door. It was propped open. The cooker was still on, the hob burning hot. Someone had done this to her. Someone had taken her from her own home and taken her life away from her. Anger started bubbling inside Lucy, waiting to come out. All that grief had taken over her and she was left with fury and determination. She was not going to stop until she had figured this out. This was the beginning.

She turned around and walked briskly towards the door but as she did, her foot caught on the edge of the carpet and her body went crashing down towards the cold wooden floor. She blacked out, for how long she didn’t know.

As she came around her vision was still blurry, she tried to push herself up but her arms felt too weak; she could barely see. She rolled over to lie on her back.

A blurry, but large figure stood infront of her.

“Looking for someone?”

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