The Carving of the Dolphin Earrings

The street light shone travelling through the window and fell calmly where he was standing. Looming over his paper work he stood silently, taking a gradual glance at his cheap digital watch he sighed. We couldn't you just understand he whispered to himself concerned that someone might hear him, even though he knew no one would be there this time of night. As he moved silently around the office he could see they kept the same table and filing cabinets that he had when working there, but after further observations the office was not quite the same as it was. His Los Angeles Police Department Medal of Valor was taken down from the frame on the wall, he didn't know where it had gone or what they did with it, but he doesn't really care because at least now he knows that he never really deserved it.

He travels deeper into the room, avoiding the floor board which he remembers creeks if stepped on, even with the lightest of footsteps. Finding himself sitting at his old wooden desk he opens the top draw, but not realising in doing so, I guess old habits do die hard he smirked to himself after closing it. He leans back into the leather chair lifting his feet up onto the table breathing in deep and closing his eyes remembering the last days that he was in this office.

He eyes where suddenly awoken with the sounds of a phone ringing buried beneath his paper work, letting out a quite sigh from his exhaustion. Swiftly placing his feet off from the desk he leant forward and picked up the phone with the same haste.

'Detective Hunter.' He answered in a habitual manner. 'Okay, we'll get right over there.' Putting the phone down he noticed that his partner was already waiting by the door.

'Another homicide?' His partner questioned, but already knowing the answer.

'Looks like, by our infamous 'typer.' He left another note.'

'Maybe we could work his riddle out this time; get ahead of him for once.' Anderson said with a hint of eagerness to his voice.

'Yeah... Well, maybe. We'll see what he's written.' Hunter responded with not much hope in his voice seeing as the past few riddles they have been presented with they have wrongly deciphered them which has lead to dead ends and also dead bodies.

Hunter parked about 50 meters away from the crime scene, as he could not get any closer due to the yellow crime tape acting as a barrier that surrounded the victim in the middle.

Stepping out of the car Hunter couldn't help but notice the chill in the air, and yet it was not a cold day. Looking through his black frame glasses he could see the corpse that lay ahead of them. They started to move towards it and scooped themselves under the yellow crime tap in a synchronised fashion. They were in a forest with tall tree's hanging over them and creating long moving shadows as their leaves dance in the wind.

As they carried on their track towards the heart of the crime scene, Hunter noticed that the woodland floor was wet and yet it hadn't rained last night. Moving closer to the body it was clear that the typer was indeed the killer, the women lay in the middle of tree's that imprisoned her, on three tree's quite near the body there were some carvings on them.

'Another riddle I presume.' Anderson said coldly.

'What else would there be.' Hunter replied abruptly, annoyed by the fact that this killer is just playing with them and others lives for the pleasure of his own.

As they were approaching a person from the forensics team walked towards them with obviously having something to say.

'This one's a bit different to the others Detectives.'

'How so?' Hunter replied in question.

'Well he didn't leave a riddle this time, and there are markings on the bark of the trees surrounding the body.'

'Okay then, we'll have a look.'

Hunter walked straight to the markings on the trees and Anderson walked to the body in what seemed to be a silent unplanned strategy. As Hunter observed the carvings of the trees he noticed that they were carvings of images. One was a spotty blanket and there was another which was of a bike he tried to make a connection between them and wondered why had the killer carved these, although it might not have been him. 'There's another one behind you' called his partner from the body, happy as always to help out.

Detective Hunter turned around and froze at the sight of the carving, the only movement he made was the desperate blinking in disbelief to what he was seeing. In front of him was a carving of a set of dolphin earrings, but not just any. These resembled the earrings that Hunter had got for his wife for a recent birthday present dolphins were her favourite mammals, she does not try and hind this fact. She was overjoyed with this gift and has worn them nearly every day since she received them.

Hunter tensed his brow as he realised what the other carvings were, he spun around quickly hoping his eyes would deceive him, even though he already knew what was there. The bike, the red bike his son Jimmy got last Christmas that he religiously rides around in the garden, all day and night if you would let him. The spotty blanket, given as a gift on celebrating the life of his new born daughter, but now dreading that it will be taken away as well as the rest of his family, as it seems they were the next target of the killers.

'What did the note say?' Hunter said raising his voice towards the forensics team who were calmly and slowly scanning the area for more evidence and clues. They looked up in shock of the voice just as deer would in the middle of a road as a car with headlights approaching them shining at them though the darkness of night.

'I have it here.'

Snatching the note from the hand that presented it to him, he read it in haste.'

'What's wrong?' Anderson remarked swiftly making his way towards his partner so he too could see what the note says.'

Glancing back at Hunter and Anderson was the words written by the killer by a typewriter, his classic style. 'I have on the tree's gifts given to them, fitting comfortably as this is my gift to you. Always wanting and succeeding to be a hero, this is your time to show how much of a hero you really are. Don't think there won't be sacrifice.'

Recognising he was clenching his fists he released them and also released his eyes from the darkness and memories in attempt to journey away from those last moments he tried not to remember. That is when it started, or ended he should say. The spiralling downfall which cost him his career, family and his life, but yet he did not regret what he did as what he had achieved and stopped meant much more to him then some awarded medal given to him to frame on the wall.