The Curious Case of June Watson
The Curious Case of June Watson
An agoraphobic murderer, a desperate chase, and a punch in the face.
Author’s note: This is the first episode of “Catching the Impossible Killer”. Here’s a link to the full index so you can catch up on the previous story. Enjoy!
June was sure that her aunt had been murdered by the next-door neighbour. But it made no sense! She had no evidence, no clear motive she could pinpoint, and yet…
June was new to the city, having just landed at the airport on a Sunday morning. She had been planning to stay with her aunt for a week or two while she looked for a place of her own. As the taxi drove up to her aunt’s building, June was surprised to see a line of police cars outside. There were uniformed officers everywhere, spread out like ants—in the lobby, on the lift, and most concentrated on her aunt’s floor. June remembers feeling quite numb as she followed the movements of the hive to an open door numbered 602.
It was her Aunt Ivy, of course. The police asked her to identify the corpse before they took her away. They said she must have interrupted a burglar, who then choked her to death and cut open her stomach for good measure. They asked if June noticed anything missing, but, having never been in the flat before, she had no way of knowing. In any case, June couldn’t exactly think straight under the circumstances.
She still can’t remember how long she stood there, her luggage in hand, her mind reeling from both shock and the nauseating stench of the crime scene. The police officers left at some point; she remembers one of them asked if she had a place to stay. She’d lied and said yes, though she didn’t know why.
“Are you a relative?”
The voice broke her out of her stupor. She was outside in the hallway, her aunt’s flat sealed behind police tape. The voice belonged to a man with startling white hair standing just inside the adjacent flat, 601.
“I asked, are you a relative?”
There was something in the way he looked at her that frightened June. She nodded.
“You best clear off,” the man said. “You don’t want to end up like her.”
He jerked a thumb towards Aunt Ivy’s flat. Then he slammed his door shut and June ran for the lift.
On the way down, June tried to remember what Aunt Ivy had told her about the next-door neighbour. She recalled her calling him a “kooky man” but “harmless.” There was something else… but it escaped her at the time.
Downstairs, June ran into a man leaning on a broom and chewing gum, dressed in a grey uniform with a nametag that said “Dick”. We’re using the term “man” rather loosely here; in reality, Dick was barely eighteen, with a babyish face and a handful of carefully tended hairs sprouting over his upper lip.
“Excuse me,” said June. “My aunt lives in 602.”
“You mean lived,” Dick corrected her. “She’s dead, isn’t she?”
“So you know about that?” she asked.
“Police asked if the cameras saw anything,” he replied, pointing up at a dusty CCTV camera.
“And did they?”
“Naw, they weren’t turned on. Happens all the time.”
The conversation clearly wasn’t going anywhere. June decided to change topics.
“What can you tell me about the man in 601?” she asked. Dick seemed surprised.
“Mr Adams? He’s been here forever. Never leaves his flat. He’s got that acrophobia.”
“You mean he’s afraid of heights?”
“Naw, he just doesn’t leave his flat.”
June decided he must have meant agoraphobia. It rang a bell.
That’s what her aunt had said: Mr Adams had been confined to quarters for over twelve years, having had a nervous breakdown after the death of his wife. A troubled man, but ultimately not a bother to anyone. So why did she get the feeling he had been threatening her?
She thought it over as she stepped out onto the unfamiliar streets, searching in vain for a cab or a bus stop. It was a busy road with crowds rushing in every direction. Her bags shielded June as she made her way through the sea of elbows, looking for a quiet corner where she could collect her thoughts. That’s when she saw him.
It was Mr Adams, she was sure. He had the same white hair, the same scowl, and he was unmistakably walking towards her. In a panic, June took off down the street at top speed.
She had no idea where she was going; all she knew was that she needed to get away. Footsteps echoed all around her as she raced down a cobblestoned alley, a piece of the city’s history hidden away from the maddening crowds. Unfortunately, this relic of a bygone age ended in a perfectly modern concrete wall.
It’s funny how people rarely find out who they really are until they’re backed into a corner and facing great danger. At that moment, June found out that she was the sort of person who would whip around and fling her fists at her would-be attacker, a fighter to the very last.
To her surprise, June felt her unaimed fist collide with her pursuer’s jaw, sending him tipping over onto his back. To her even greater surprise, she found that the man she’d punched wasn’t Mr Adams.
It was me.
To Be Continued.
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I'm hooked. Nothing like busting into the murder right off the bat! Thank you.
I'll keep reading!!!