I live in a loft apartment in a building that backs onto an alleyway near a park. I live by myself with a dog called Lloyd. As of late, bodies have been found in the alleyway near the park. It is mostly middle-aged men in cheap suits.

When I was walking Lloyd early one morning, the wind was cold and strong, and behind the dumpster, I could see a leg. I went over to have a closer look. He was obviously very dead. I thought of calling 911. The police would come and take my statement and ask some questions that would take far too long. Lloyd was restless and it was very cold and I was late for work, so I did not bother to call.

The next weekend, when the sun was high and warm, I was sitting on the park bench when I heard a noise. A man next to the swings was trying to get to his feet; his suit was dirty and his face was bloodied. I thought he seemed to recognise me, although perhaps not. He seemed to be able to walk fine, so I thought he would be okay and left him alone.

This first time the police knocked on my door, they were knocking on all the doors in the apartment complex regarding the latest death. The body they found was the nephew of someone who had the ability to make the police knock on doors and get some answers.

I was still very groggy from sleep when I opened the door and I was not prepared to see a very beautiful woman in a police officer’s uniform. Her shirt was too small for her and the buttons strained to keep her breasts hidden. I fixed my dressing gown against me tighter. She wanted to know if I had seen or heard anything suspicious the night before. I cleared my throat and say that I had not heard or seen anything suspicious.

She asked me about my whereabouts last night; I told her I was working late. She asked me where I worked and I told her. I did not know why I lied; I could have told her the truth.

She gave me her card, which surprised me as I did not think police officers carried cards anymore. She told me to call her if I remembered anything. I wanted to call her about meeting for a drink, perhaps, although I thought maybe she probably would not appreciate it. I looked at the way her ass wobbled in her pants as she was walking away and it was all too much for me, and as soon as she was out of sight, I closed the door and put my hand on the wall for support and then relieved myself of my burden.

That was it for a while. The bodies continued to appear near the dumpster and then disappear. It went like clockwork; it was a good system.

A few months later, when the autumn air had lost its warmth and the winter chill was in the post, I went back to my life before the bodies started appearing. I kept the officer’s card in my wallet and sometimes I would take the card out and study it, rubbing it between my fingers forwards and backwards. I thought about giving her a call. I did not want to draw attention to myself. That would be the last thing I wanted to do, so I put the card back into its home and forgot about it.

Very early one morning, there was another knock on my door. I was still in bed and only wearing boxer’s briefs. I could not find my dressing gown, so I answered the door like that. I was very surprised to see the very attractive police officer was back at my door, although this time she wasn’t by herself; this time she was with another heavy-set male police officer. He looked at me with what I perceived as thinly veiled contempt.

The male officer said he wanted to ask me some further questions in regards to the homicide that happened a few months ago. I nodded my head and asked them what they wanted to know. He did all the talking and she just stood back listening. He asked me again where I was that night in question. This time, I told him the truth: that I was drinking in a bar with my good friend Charles until midnight.

That is when I saw the beautiful policewoman raise her eyebrows impressively and, in a state of near disbelief, she said that the last time when she had interviewed me, I had stated that I was working late that evening. I shook my head and told her that was not correct, that she was mistaken. I told her that she could check the cameras at the bar and they would see that I was with my friend Charles. I asked if there was anything else they would like to know as I was not dressed accordingly and the winter breeze was very cold on my body.

I gave them Charles’ name, address, and cell number and the name of the bar we were drinking at. The male policeman looked disgusted and told me that he would be in touch. I reached out to shake his hand; he hesitated before extending his hand and I shook it. I was about to reach out my hand although the female officer had already turned her back on me and was walking away. I closed the door quickly and I let out a long, deep breath and tried to calm myself.

I did not hear anything else for a long time.

I started taking out Lloyd for his morning walks earlier and earlier. I think he was pleased; he always went mad when he saw a squirrel and the earlier mornings seemed to agree with him; he was magnificent in the mornings when the sky was beginning to bruise and the sun was peeking over the horizon.

I did call the female police officer one time from a payphone a few weeks later just to hear her voice. I did not say anything; I just listened to her.

“Hello, Officer Anderson speaking.”


“Hello, is anyone there?”