Despite the fact that the room was packed with Police officers and a group of detectives, all of them were looking at the same spot, an old-fashioned wooden chair which was blood splattered.
There was no body at the crime scene, and all the blood was on that chair, if it wasn’t because of it, the room would be like any single unemployed person’s dormitory on a Saturday night, with a disorder that was about to be erased.
After I talked at length with the single witness we had, all I knew was that there was a quiet night when a loud scream woke up our witness, when she ran to the door it was locked, after a few minutes of knocking the door, the door opened slowly and nothing was there.
All the clues were pointing to our witness but the cameras outside the room showed that the alibi that she told us was correct. I was, in front of a perfect crime that won’t be solved in my entire life.
Pseudònim: The Inspector