DCI Cobley Crime File
Detective Chief Inspector Tom Cobley had seen nothing like it in thirty years on the force. He read the letter slowly and then read it again because he couldn’t believe it the first time. Then he handed it to Sergeant Gurney.
The sergeant was equally perplexed. ‘Who is Arthur Stewer-Brewer, Major (Retired)? He says here that all people over the age of sixty-five “whose continued existence does not in some measure benefit the community” should be euthanised. What does that mean? Put to death?’ His hand shook as he gave the letter back. ‘God, I hope he’s not on a crusade.’
Cobley muttered, ‘Nutter, more like. See if we know anything about him. And get me a cup of tea and a biscuit while you’re about it. Chocolate, if they’ve got it.’
Gurney had initiative and was still too naïve to know this was not encouraged in the police force. He went to the address on the letter to try to speak to the Major (Retired). He found a dingy room in a dilapidated block of bedsits that smelt of wet dogs and urine. He wasn’t at home but his neighbour said he never went out.
Back at the station the uniformed duty sergeant popped his head round the DCI’s door. ‘Strange overnight case, sir. Some retired major covered his head with a Union Jack flag and shot himself on the Promenade.’
Cobley picked up the letter and read it again. ‘How old was the Major (Retired)?’
‘Sixty-five yesterday, sir.’
Words: Richard Rooney
Illustration: A.I.
Flash Fiction 250
Flash Fiction 250 