The Cat Walk

"Oh my God! It is awfully dark!" screamed Britney as she tried to quickly make her way through the incinerator. She felt a brisk chill on the back of her neck as she heard her predator drawing closer and closer. Her body quickly stopped as she slammed into the catwalk railing. Her heart was pounding and her feet staggered as she pulled her body up the 50 foot catwalk. The stairway started to sway as the person following walked onto the steps.

Britney kept running into cold metal as the catwalk twisted and turned around the building. She figured she must be getting near the stairs when she felt a violently stern hand grab her neck. The man had caught her and she lost her breath. Desperately screaming, he picked her up by her hair and her legs, and lifted her up over the railing. Britney tried to grab for anything as she fell. He heard her scream, then a blood curdling snap, and then silence

It is 9:45 a.m. when Anthony Streets arrived at the Glen Oak Recycling center. Police and forensics already made their way through the incinerator, checking the smoke stacks, burning pits, control rooms, and machinery for clues.

"Take a break, guys. Let me have a look around for awhile." This was Anthony's first case on his own, since his 15 year partner had died unexpectedly.

"Mr. Streets. The girl worked here on weekends. She was 26, from California. We already contacted the family. Three other people used their key cards yesterday; Betty Thompson, Chris Moore, and Devon Moore. All are on their way here. Betty Thompson and Chris Moore were on the time sheet to work yesterday."

"Thank you Officer Becker. Now please ask your men to give me my space. Thank you." Anthony examined the place of death first. It was obvious that Britney fell, by the way her neck was broken and by the way she was sprawled on the icy concrete floor. Blood was smeared, so he could tell the murderer touched the body to make sure she was dead, but there were no fingerprints found.

He then went to search the cat walk. As Anthony attempted to ascend the catwalk, he felt a cold hand touch his shoulder.

"Excuse me , are you a cop? The police department called me down here. What is going on?"

As Anthony caught his breath, he asked, "And you would be who?"

"The name is Moore. Devon Moore. Could you please tell me what is going on? I'm missing football."

"Britney Murphy is dead. She was killed last night," answered Mr. Streets sorrowfully.

"Oh no. Do they know who did it yet? Are there any suspects? Am I a suspect?"

"Mr. Moore, I just need to ask you a few questions. Don't jump to conclusions. Why were you at the incinerator last night? You didn't have to work, did you?"

Devon stuttered, "No, sir. I didn't work. I was bringing Britney something to eat. She had called me last night and told me she was staying late. She is my ex-wife sir. I thought it would be a nice gesture, but when I got here, she was nowhere to be found. It was dark so I called her name from the front door. When she didn't answer, I figured she just left early with Chris."

"Why Chris?" asked Anthony.

"Chris was working earlier in the day. She might have called him to come pick her up. They are... are seeing each other."

"Isn't Chris your brother?"

"Yes, sir. We both work here on the weekends for extra money. I got him the job."

"Alright," said Anthony in an exhausted tone. "That is all for now. I will call if I have further questions." Anthony didn't feel very good after talking to Devon. He didnÐ''t get a good vibe from him. Officer Becker approached Mr. Streets quickly.

"I just got a call from the station. Blood was found under Ms. Murphy's fingernails. We got it tested and it is Devon Moore's."

"Thank you Officer. Have the other two employees arrived yet?"

Officer Becker shook his head. "Yes they both are here. Chris is outside clearing up the yard a bit and Mrs. Thompson is in the main office."

Anthony made his way to the office where he was greeted by a brittle lady in a wheelchair. "Hello Mrs. Thompson. How are you?"

"Well, I was having quite a wonderful day, until Devon told me the news as I arrived. Is it true? Who could have done such a cold, heartless thing?"

"I don't know." Anthony sighed under his breath. He already knew this was going to be a waste of his time. "That is what we are trying to figure out. When did you work yesterday?"

"Well Officer, I worked from 8 to 4:30. Chris and I left at the same time but Britney stayed behind. She said something to Chris about finishing up paperwork before leaving."

"I'm a detective, not an officer. What is your job here at the Recycling Center?"

"Well detective, I am the control room operator. That is all I really can do here, ever since I got in my car accident and got stuck in this stupid wheelchair."

"Alright," Anthony said hurrying Mrs. Thompson along, "I'm all done now. If anything else is needed, I will be sure to call. Thank you for coming down here."

"Ok. I hope you figure out this whole mess soon. I feel so bad for Chris, he can't say much right now, he is in a lot of pain... I mean emotionally, you know. Goodbye."

Anthony watched as Mrs. Thompson went out into the yard and briefly talked to Chris. As she pointed to the building, Chris started walking up to the main office door. He stumbled into the door and unexpectedly walked right up to Mr. Streets.

"Hello, I'm Chris Moore. I hear that you have some questions to ask me. I really want to just go home, call Britney's parents. So can we please make this as fast as possible?"

"Of course, Mr. Moore. I'm sorry, by the way, about what happened to your girlfriend."

Chris responding surprised

, "Who told you she was my girlfriend? I mean we have been seeing eachother, but I didn't think anyone knew. Ever since... um...