The Suspect

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The Suspect

A short story by Tanya Allan
(originally published in Issue 37 of TRANSLIVING MAGIZINE. It had to be short, due to the restricted space in the magazine)

Copyright 2012 Tanya J. Allan

By all accounts, John Granger is a fit and healthy man, a meticulous graphic designer in a good job. He has an attractive and bubbly girlfriend called Samantha, whom is well liked by the neighbours. On the death of his mother, he inherits the family home, so has everything going for him.

He is reported missing, believed murdered. The only suspect is his girlfriend.


The grizzled Detective Inspector came into the CID office and cleared his throat.

“Ladies and gents, it seems we may have a murder,” he said, as hush settled.

That caught everyone’s attention. He selected three detectives to accompany him and the detective sergeant to the briefing room, where he set about briefing them and assigning them with some initial enquiries.

“This case is as a result of information received from a member of the public. There’s no body and only a suspicion at this stage. It’s up to you to find the evidence and arrest the person responsible.

“Our informant is a Mrs Rita Hardcastle, and she lives at number three Hill View. Detective Sergeant Sara Smith took a statement from her this morning, and I’m satisfied that there are grounds to take this to the next level,” he said, glancing at the tall sergeant.

“That’s right, sir. I spoke to Rita, and she was actually embarrassed that we were taking this as seriously as we are. It’s all about the occupants of the house next door to hers; number five.

“They’re all terrace houses, eight in a row, so are close together. The occupants of number five are a family called Granger. Apparently, the elder Mr Granger passed away some fifteen years ago, and his widow, Elsie Granger died last year. That left the son, John living on his own in the house. Now, this man is twenty-three and is a graphic designer. He has no history with us, so has no convictions and there is nothing in the local intelligence system.

“There was a twin sister, but she died in a car crash when she was sixteen, so that was about seven years ago now.”

“Who’s been killed, sarge?” asked one of the detectives.

“I’m getting to that. John is the one who is reported as missing by the neighbour, Mrs Hardcastle. At the moment, the only suspect is the girlfriend, um,” she paused, checking her notes. “One Samantha Pickering.”

“Is she known, sarge?” the same detective asked.

“No, no trace any police records, and no trace on voters. The neighbour says that she moved in just after John’s mother died,” she paused again, smiling. “She said that Elsie wouldn’t have liked John sleeping with a girl in the same house as her if they weren’t married.

“Anyway, she said that she saw both John and Samantha frequently for a few months, as she thinks that Samantha does the same sort of job as John, and they both appeared to work a lot from home. Then, about ten weeks ago, she thinks they must have gone on holiday, as the house was empty for a couple of weeks, and after they came back, she saw Samantha but never John.”

“Did she speak to the girlfriend?” one of the others asked.

“Yes, often and she likes the girl. She says that she’s always friendly and chatty, often offering to help with shopping and such like. She says she’s the opposite of John and never understood what she saw in the man.”

“Why’s that?”

“Apparently John was a miserable bugger and a bit of a loner, so she was amazed when Samantha came along, as she’s attractive, bubbly and everything that John isn’t.”

“So what’s happened to John?”

“That’s what you lot are going to find out. John has not been seen since that holiday, so a couple of months. Now, the three of you are going to check with his employers, friends and any relatives. Depending on what you find, then we may have to bring Samantha in and speak to her, but at some point we’ll have to visit the house and search the premises for any evidence.”

The detectives left to carry out their tasks.

Later that morning, Sara knocked on the Inspector’s door.

“Come in Sara, what news?”

“Not a lot, as it happens, which is not looking good for young Samantha.”

“How so?”

“Well, checks with his employers state that John hasn’t produced any work for them in the last ten weeks, in fact since the holiday. They confirm that she is on their books as a self-employed designer who works as an associate, to takes piecework on contract from the company. John was the same, as are all their people. It’s a way of keeping salary costs down, apparently.

“John started working from them when he left college two years ago, and then Samantha started last year, around the same time as she moved in with John. The company has seen a dip in the recession, so they weren’t able to give everyone work to keep then extra busy, but both John and Samantha got a fair bit as they were among the better designers on the books.”

“Which one was better?”

“Hard to say. I did ask, but they were very different. It seems that John was meticulous and very consistent, while Samantha’s work was flamboyant, having a level of flair that was lacking in her boyfriend’s work. But, she was less consistent and was occasionally late with her work.”

“Hmm, so?”

“Well, John hasn’t done any work for two months, so in keeping with the date of that holiday, but Samantha is still producing work regularly.”

“Anything else?”

“DC Herridge spoke to an uncle; old Mr Hardcastle’s young brother, George. He lives in Wales, and admitted that he had not had any contact with John for a number of years. He’s not been well, and I suppose, like many families, sort of drifted apart. Last December he thinks that he got a Christmas card signed by John and Sam, but that’s it.”

“How about the tax people?”

“They were as helpful as usual and were unwilling to say anything over the phone, inviting us to submit the application for information in the usual way.”

“That’ll take weeks then. Okay, Sara, you and I will go call on this Samantha, I think she’s got a bit of explaining to do.”

DS Sara Smith was surprised, as she had imagined Samantha as small and dark. Instead, she was tall, attractive, and had long auburn hair. She looked more like a model than a graphic designer, as her slender figure set off her skirt and top beautifully.

The Inspector had shown his warrant card and been quite gruff with the girl.

“Miss Pickering, we’re investigating the whereabouts of a missing person, one John Granger, so it would be helpful if you told us anything you know.”

She invited them into the house, smiling as she saw the curtains twitching up and down the road.

“I suppose this was inevitable,” she said, inviting them to sit in the immaculate lounge. “Can I offer you a tea or something?”

They declined, as the Inspector was getting itchy to solve this case.

“Miss Pickering, where is John Granger?” he asked.

“Well, I think the best way of saying this, is that he’s dead.”

“Dead, so you killed him?” he asked, standing up and fumbling for his handcuffs.

“Not exactly. I guess you could say I killed him off. You see, I used to be John Granger, and I started transitioning after my mother died. A couple of months ago I went to Thailand to complete the package, so to speak. That’s why he hasn’t been seen, because what there is left of John is in a medical waste bag in Thailand.”

There wasn’t a lot more to be said, for Samantha produced all the necessary documentation. The Inspector had to go back to his office empty handed. Sara shook Samantha by the hand.

“If it’s any consolation, I’d never have guessed,” she said as she left.

Sam smiled and closed the door.

All Rights reserved.
The author asserts her moral right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988, to be identified as the author of this work.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, copied, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written consent of the copyright holder, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

Any adaptation of the whole or part of the material for broadcast by radio, TV, or for stage plays or film, is the right of the author unless negotiated through legal contract. Any commercial use by anyone other than the author is strictly prohibited.

This work is fictitious, and any similarities to any persons, alive or dead, are purely coincidental. Mention is made of persons in public life only for the purposes of realism and for that reason alone. Certain licence is taken in respect of medical procedures, terms and conditions, and the author does not claim to be the fount of all knowledge.

The author accepts the right of the individual to hold his/her (or whatever) own political, religious and social views, and there is no intention to deliberately offend anyone.

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Comments

Short & Straight to the Point

Like all your stories, short and long, I've enjoyed it. Thanks for a warm fuzzy this Monday morning.

Makes you wonder

if this has ever really happened. :)
Hugs
Grover

I've Just One Complaint

about this one Tanya. It was over far too quickly.

By that, I do not mean it was too short. I mean, I just wish it had gone on longer. I love reading all your stories. I had realised very soon what was coming, but only because I have read most of what you have written before. You are still one of my favorite authors.

Thank you for sharing it with us all on here. May you be blessed.

Briar

The Suspect

WAS guilty of being who she was meant to be.

    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine

Telegraph

You kind of telegraphed the ending quite early but it was a good read anyway. Congratulations on getting such a meaty story into the space constraints that you were allowed.

S.

That was cute!

Thanks for a nice relaxing read for after work today Tanya.

Abigail Drew.

nicely done, and congrats

not a bad little piece, congrats on getting it published.

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Kudos

A clever, well written story.

A good story and well written...

Ole Ulfson's picture

I did enjoy it! But you telegraphed it a bit. I had it by the last line of the intro. Didn't stop me from reading it though. I always enjoy your work and consider myself a fan!

Thanks for entertaining me,

Ole

We are each exactly as God made us. God does not make mistakes!

Gender rights are the new civil rights!

I enjoyed it.

I've always wondered about something, the two different people thing post op TGs mention. How real is this?

I can see personality changes, but total submersion?

I think the biggest difference...

Obviously I'm not post op, and who knows when I'll ever even be in the game for it, but...

I've already noticed a big difference in the way I look at the world just for deciding not to hide anymore. People notice this change, and some may even be tempted to say I'm like a different person.

Inside, I'm really not all that different, I'm just a little less self-prohibiting in expressing what's inside. Though I'm still holding back a little.

I imagine if I ever can go "all the way", I'd probably be quite unrecognizable from the old me I was pretending to be.

So... It's not really us who change, it's the way the world sees us that changes, because as a male, we barely interacted with the world, just enough to get by. As our true female selves we own the world. Or at least some of us do.

I think it largely depends on just how outgoing the hidden part of ourselves really is. I know that I'm a total attention whore inside, which is kind of scary... If I had done like the character of this short story had done, I could see people thinking I'd killed myself ;)

But... that's not my intention. My intention is to first get this body hair and beard dealt with, and slowly allow my appearance to become more and more feminine. I hope no one decides to take umbrage at me for it, but so far no ones reacted poorly to me wearing semi-butch female clothes despite still having the hair problem. I want to wear girlier things, but I don't dare while I still have all this hair.

Anyway... to recap, I think the reason people think we're two different people, is because we are less prohibitive of our behavior. We relax more and just let ourselves be ourselves. To a casual observer we would appear to have become a completely different person, even though, inside, we're really not all that different at all.

Abigail Drew.