Short Story: 35 Chestnut Terrace Part 1 of 4
A young woman tries to exonerate her fiancé of a horrific murder, but is he innocent?
Part One
‘My fiancé didn’t murder Lisa Stringer!’
Erica Hamilton sat in the grey police interview room opposite plain clothes Detective Sergeant Steven Wilson, a short, stocky man with a buzz cut in his late forties, and a younger female officer, Detective Sergeant Fatima Bright. She had a permanent wide-eyed expression, as though a torch were being constantly shone in her face, which made her surname feel appropriate.
DS Wilson sighed. ‘As I’ve already told you, Miss Hamilton, the evidence against your husband-to-be is overwhelming. Archie Lewis’s fingerprints and DNA are all over the basement beneath 35 Chestnut Terrace. Lisa Stringer, the landlord’s daughter, was found dead in that basement, with her throat slashed, having been tortured, raped, and mutilated. 35 Chestnut Terrace is the house Archie rents from Tyler Stringer, her father. No one else had access to the property.’
Erica clutched at strands of her long brown hair in frustration. She felt exhausted, having barely slept in over forty-eight hours. She desperately wanted a shower and a change of clothes. But she had to make the police see sense. There was no way Archie could be responsible for the chain of horrifying events in which they had become embroiled.
‘For God’s sake, Archie didn’t even know that basement was there! The landlord obviously didn’t tell him about it. The basement is accessible only by a concealed locked trapdoor in the cupboard under the stairs, which had a shoe rack firmly placed on top of it. We only discovered it last night, once you lot turned up. How did you know about the basement? How did you know she was in there?’
‘An emergency call from your fiancé’s phone, which she’d evidently managed to steal from him, perhaps between rapes.’
DS Bright’s blunt remarks shocked Erica. She became angry but forced herself to speak in a calm voice.
‘Archie didn’t rape anyone. He didn’t kill anyone. He didn’t torture, mutilate, or imprison anyone. You’ve got him all wrong.’
‘Well, we’ve got his fingerprints on the kitchen knife that cut her throat.’
Erica scoffed. ‘The very kitchen knife he said had gone missing, a day earlier. Of course, it had his prints on it. He uses it for cooking!’
‘So how did Lisa Stringer get down there? Who else could have done this to her? How did Archie’s DNA wind up down there, if he isn’t responsible?’
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