The unexpected turn (653 words)

The police van screeched to a halt outside the building. Two men in police uniform with guns drawn ran up the stairs to the second floor and rang the bell of apartment 213.

There was no response, and one of them just pushed the door. It opened with no difficulty. They rushed to the living room where the TV was on and blaring.

They recoiled for a moment at the ghastly sight of the body of a young woman around 25 in her nightie lying on the sofa with blood sprayed all around. The body was puckered with several stab wounds.

There stood still by the side of the sofa, a heavily built man in his late 30s in faded jeans and a T-shirt. His hair was dishevelled, and his clothes were dotted all over with irregular patches of blood.

One of the men felt her nostrils and flashed torchlight on her wide-open eyes and remarked, "Dead", to no one in particular.

" Hey, you gave a ring, is it? Who killed her, any idea?" asked the second man to the man in jeans.

"Do you have any doubt? Here is the evidence. Look," he said and took a blood-soaked kitchen knife from the sofa.

" Stop it, I say. Drop the knife and hold up your hands," shouted the policeman with the gun pointing at the man.

As the man dropped the knife, the other policeman went behind him and put the handcuffs on the hands behind him.

"Why did you kill her?"

"Go to the bedroom and find for yourself", he said with a smug smile.

The policeman saw the body of a young man in his twenties clad in pyjamas on the bed. He had obviously been strangled with a tie, and his head smashed later by some blunt weapon.

"Who is this guy? Anyone known to you"

"How would I know? I have cast my eye on him for the first time in this bed of mine"

"Is the lady in the living room your wife?"

"What else do you think, you moron, my concubine, is it?"

"Why did you kill them both?" the policeman asked, realising the stupidity of the question.

"For fun, you idiot", the man spluttered in rage. “Are you so dumb?" he asked.

A mobile phone started ringing, and by the time the policeman could locate it, the ringing stopped. The mobile was found in the pocket of the pyjamas of the dead man. He checked the calls and said to his colleague that the call to the police was not from this mobile.

Surprised at the sudden disclosure, they called the security guard, who was luckily standing outside the door. He identified that the dead duo was a couple and that the man in jeans and cuffs was a visitor seen for the first time.

There was a puzzled look on the faces of the two policemen as they surmised a psycho.

Who was he, and what was he after? Any clue? 

It was then they heard clearly an instruction from someone in an adjacent room to a few possibly assembled there.

"Cut and pack up for the day. The shooting is over”

The men in uniform peered inside to see the men folding curtains and packing several cameras and stands.

The director smiled at the man in jeans and asked, “Who asked you to talk so much to the policemen? You have gone beyond the script. You were to stand there mostly quiet?”

“Who rang the police? It was not me,” asked the man in jeans.”

“It was for bringing true effect; we had arranged a call from a booth. They and the security man were part of our group. No real police were involved,” exclaimed the director.

 There were peals of laughter and clapping for the successful shooting from all, including the young woman, the man in pyjamas, and the security guard.