To catch a thief
Chapter 1
Life shortening smoke hung menacingly in the stale air. A grubby tweed jacket heaped motionless on the stained floor; the carpet used to be deep purple but it seemed to have been rubbed out from the continuous bombing of ash and malt whiskey.
On the scruffy sofa; which was in an even worse state than the carpet laid what looked like a fur-ball with eyes and a nose. Infact it was a 60 odd year old Detective Inspector who went by the name of Grouse. His beard which connected to his moustache had grown wildly out of control, looking as-if it was eating away at his face. Grouse was supposed to be working on something about a diamond. He didn’t really know nor care. All he was bothered about was drowning out his sorrows with his ever so popular malt whiskey.
It was pitch black in the room; DI Grouse did not believe in spending money on lighting when you had it for 12 hours of the day. The only pr'ick of light was from the one thing he craved the most. His trusty cigars. They kept him going, along with the whiskey, since his dearest Mary was taken away from him 7 years ago this month.
Bring. Bring. Bring.
”Urgh,” slowly slipped out of Grouses parched lips. Everyone on the police force knew he hated phones. This must be important. Grouse shuffled wearily towards the shouting phone.
”We have him…” the person on the end of the phone stammered.
”Who?” Grouse groaned.
”The one who took your Mary.”
So this was what I wrote for my assesment. We had to do it about D.I Grouse. I got a Level 6 for this, and I'm in year 9.
C+C please.






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