“3 dead, killer still at large” I put the newspaper down on the table, shaking my head. It was a cold winters night in Detroit, frost on the ground, a howling wind that cut right through to my bones. I look around the room, trying to piece together the puzzle.

I prefer doing my job at night. You don’t have the paparazzi asking you all sorts of silly questions, shoving microphones in your face and blinding you with flashes from the cameras.

I leave the room, going into the basement. No point of forced entry anywhere in the house, just an open door at the front.

I hear a scrape from Above. I draw my gun, alarms going off in my head. I consider my options. I can go up fast and let them know I’m here or I could sneak up and take them by surprise. I chose the latter.

I crouch slightly and step gently, making my way back upstairs, swinging round the corner and aiming my gun into the centre of the room. It’s empty. I let out a sigh of relief and holster my weapon and walk over to where I left the newspaper.

The 3 had been crossed out and so had the word large. It read: “4 dead, killer still at”

There’s a creak behind me. I decend into darkness.