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Saturday, May 28, 2005

Prosser Meets the Police

“You Keith Prosser?"

Keith sized up the beefy man standing in the building manager’s doorway before responding. The man was an inch or two shorter than Keith, but easily outweighed him by a good thirty pounds. He had short brown hair and looked to be in his forties, although the man’s trunk-like forearms suggested he could easily knock down most guys half his age.

“And you are…” Keith let his voice trail off, waiting for the man to fill in the blank.

“Detective Stevens, City police.” The man flipped open a leather wallet, revealing a gleaming gold badge. “You called about a missing person?”

“Ah, right,” said Keith. “That was me. Let me grab my keys and I’ll show you the apartment.”

The detective didn’t move as Keith grabbed his keys and slipped on his shoes. Nonetheless, Keith noticed the cop’s dark eyes swiftly taking in his surroundings.

“I kind of expected someone in uniform,” Keith remarked, as he shut the door to his apartment. “I called you guys three days ago.”

The two men headed down the corridor. If Stevens had a response, he kept it to himself.

“Any sign of a crime?” said the detective.

“Well, no, I suppose. Nothing obvious, I guess.” Keith’s keys jingled as he separated his master to open the door to Jocasta Smith’s apartment. “One of the neighbours complained about a loud alarm clock. When I checked, the door was unlocked, but nobody was inside.”

Keith flipped the deadbolt and pushed open the heavy wooden door, allowing the detective to enter. Stevens had produced a pen and a small black book and was making notes. “Double-S in Prosser, right?” the detective mumbled over his shoulder, already in Jocasta’s kitchen.


Stevens made a cursory pass through the small apartment, pausing at each of the windows and studying the sliding glass patio door off the living room. “You touch anything?”

“I shut off the alarm clock,” said Keith, still standing near the doorway. “Aside from that, I just locked the place up and called you guys. I also called Mrs. Smith’s daughter. She was the only contact listed on the rental agreement. She’s on her way, I think.”

The detective crouched down to examine the two wine-stained glasses on the coffee table in the living room, then moved to the dining area where he used the end of his pen to move around a few papers strewn on the table. He scribbled something in his notebook before flipping the cover shut and stuffing the book inside his jacket pocket. He sighed heavily.

“Well Mr. Prosser, so far I don’t see a crime here. You sure the lady didn’t just take off on some bus trip to play some coin slots at a casino or something?”

“Well, I'm not certain, I guess, but…”

The cop continued. “She miss paying her rent?”

“No. She leaves post-dated cheques.”

“She normally tell you about it if she’s heading out of town for awhile?”

“Um, no, I guess.”

“You two close friends?

“No,” said Keith.

“So aside from the fact that she forgot to lock her door – you said when you called that she’s in her sixties, right?

“Yeah, somewhere around there, I think.”

“So aside from the fact that an elderly woman forgot to lock her door, we don’t really have any actual evidence of a crime here.”

Keith pursed his lips before continuing. “Still, shouldn’t we be, like, declaring her a missing person or something?”

“I’ll open a report and give you a case number, but really we should wait until a family member gets involved. You said the daughter’s coming?”


The detective placed a huge hand on Keith’s shoulder. “Until then, let’s just wait and see if the old lady shows back up, eh?”

Keith locked the door of the apartment as the detective produced a crinkled business card from his pocket.

“Give me a call if anything else happens, right? And tell the daughter to call me if she wants.”

“I will,” said Keith, shaking Stevens’ hand. “Thanks.”

Keith watched the detective stride down the corridor. The cop was out of earshot when Keith added, “...for nothing.”


  • This entry is intended to fit in just before Corinne's post about Della Smith.

    By Blogger Lowly Scribe, at 5/28/2005 07:55:00 p.m.  

  • Love it! It's exactly how I imagined the police dealing with it, but I don't think I could have written it quite so well.

    I'm thinking about writing a bit from Jocasta's point of view ... I haven't decided if she's really in danger yet or not ... I wonder if someone else will "decide" before me ...

    By Blogger Briana, at 5/28/2005 08:24:00 p.m.  

  • The only issue that I see in consistancy is the Delta would've been on the plane. She had gone to the airport on a whim, and probably called Prosser from the airport while waiting for her flight to organize something.

    Possibly an addition that Prosser expects Delta to arrive that afternoon/evening?

    Otherwise, I love the fact that the police wouldn't care about it and that Delta may also be over-reacting as she probably got word from Prosser. Leaves things wide open!


    By Blogger Corinne, at 5/29/2005 12:45:00 a.m.  

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