It was December 18, 1992,

 

in the small village of Goleen, Ireland. The midnight air bit with December cold, thick fog blanketing everything, its damp chill seeping into bones like an unseen threat.

Police officer William Harrington had finished his shift at the station and was driving home when his car suddenly stopped in the middle of the road, the engine’s cough echoing in the silence. He grabbed his torch, opened the door, and stepped out. Pulling a cigarette from his pocket, he lit it with a match and took a long drag, the warm smoke filling his lungs against the biting air. He popped open the car’s boot to check for issues, but saw nothing wrong. Shining the torch around, he hoped to spot some help.

Then a shiny glint of glass caught his eye about ten meters away on the road. He walked toward it. Upon reaching it, what he saw made him sweat even in that frigid night—the metallic tang of blood filling his nostrils. The cigarette fell from his lips to the ground. There lay a headless body, covered in blood, wearing a white shirt and black pants. On its hand was a watch, its glass having caught the light and drawn William there.

He ran back to his car, pulled out his phone—a Nokia 1011 that had just launched that year, which he had bought last week—and called the station for backup. Soon, four Garda officers arrived. William checked the body’s pockets for any ID, but found nothing. As he turned to head home, something fell from his pocket. Looking down, he saw it was his cigarette pack. He picked it up and walked to his car. The police called for an ambulance and the forensic department.

William reached home in the biting cold. With shaking hands, he knocked on the door. After a while, his wife Nora opened it, her eyes reflecting quiet concern from years of his unpredictable hours.

She whispered, her breath visible in the chill, “Why are you so late today? Catherine waited for you and fell asleep.” Rubbing his arms, William replied, “I know we were supposed to go out for dinner today. Sorry, darling.” Her eyes searched his face as she asked, “What happened?”

He sighed. “There was a new guy, Patrick Crowley. It was his first day. He was transferred from Tormoor. He’s replacing Thomas, who moved to London with his family. His paperwork took time because almost all his documents were stolen. Someone stole his bag at the bus stop when he was leaving home, so making new IDs delayed things. Then, on the way, I found a headless body.”

Nora gasped, her hand trembling, her mind flashing to their family’s safety in this quiet village. “Then you should go back.”

Shivering, William responded, “I’m very tired. Is there anything to eat?”

She nodded. “You freshen up; I’ll set the food.”

William went to the bedroom, hung his coat in the wardrobe, and then headed to the washroom to freshen up. After dinner, he went to bed to sleep. But then Tim, their pet dog, started barking suddenly, the sound echoing sharply in the foggy night.

Nora rose to go outside, but William stopped her. “I’ll check. Maybe he’s hungry.”

He opened the door and stepped out, seeing the dog barking toward the road in front of the house. Giving Tim a biscuit quieted him down. William took a cigarette from his pocket, lit one, and began thinking about the day’s events. Nora’s voice came from inside: “Will, is everything okay?”

“Yes, everything is fine,” William assured her. He threw the cigarette away and went back inside.

Meanwhile, after William had left the scene, the Garda sealed the area with tape to prevent any person or animal from approaching. One Garda began taking pictures with his camera—of the body, its hands, its neck, and surrounding items. Another Garda noted everything in his notebook: the time, weather, body position, and any marks or clues.

They called forensic doctors from the city, but it took time for them to arrive since it was a small village and midnight. When the doctors finally came and examined the body, they declared, “Now we have to take the body to the hospital.” They placed it in a black body bag, locked it with chains, and loaded it into the ambulance that had arrived with the doctors’ team.

The next morning, William rose as usual and was about to leave for the station when he heard a car horn. Looking outside, he saw Patrick, his new partner, who had come to pick him up—always punctual, with that easy confidence that made him seem like an old friend rediscovered. William invited him inside the house, but Patrick declined with a warm smile. “I’m fine here.”

William signaled for him to wait five minutes and told Nora, “I’ll be late today because of the body we found yesterday.”

He came out, opened the car door, and sat inside. Patrick greeted him and suggested, “Dr. Joshua called us. We should go there before the station.”

“Okay, let’s go,” William agreed.

Patrick was about to start the car when Nora called from behind, “You forgot your coat.”

“No problem,” William replied. “I have one at the station. I’ll take that.”

“Okay, take care,” Nora responded, her voice carrying a hint of her enduring patience.

William and Patrick drove toward the hospital. On the way, William lit a cigarette from his pack. Patrick inquired, “What brand is this?”

“John Player Special. Want to try?” William offered.

“Sure,” Patrick accepted, “but I’m a fan of Benson & Hedges Special Filter. It’s different. No issue, let’s try this too.” William handed him one, noting Patrick’s casual demeanor that hid a sharp mind.

“How far along is your paperwork?” William asked.

“Almost done,” Patrick explained. “Roman called this morning—our head police officer. I’ll collect it at the station.”

“Did you get married or not?” William wondered. “In school, you were crazy about Creta.” Actually, William and Patrick had studied together in school. Then Patrick’s parents moved to France, and Patrick had to leave. Patrick was very smart and always came first, while William always came last. Patrick helped William a lot in exams. Then they started hanging out together, playing, even bunking school, and getting punished together. That’s why they became good friends.

“Yes, she married someone else,” Patrick reflected, his tone light but eyes distant, as if old memories stirred quietly. “After that, I didn’t find anyone like her.”

William laughed. “Hahaha, after you left, I met a girl, Nora. At that time, some boy was troubling her. He said he loved Nora a lot and couldn’t live without her, but Nora didn’t want him. So he started bothering her every day. One day, she came to me crying, so I took her straight to the principal and told everything. After some time, she proposed to me. Hahaha, I didn’t even know someone loved me. Then our story spread in the whole college. We studied together in college, got closer, and got married. I have an 8-year-old daughter too, Catherine. You should meet her. She’s very naughty, but in studies, she’s just like you—very smart.”

“That’s good,” Patrick remarked. “In the end, everything turned out fine.”

Then they passed by a café called Blue Moon. William suggested stopping for coffee. They went inside, where the owner, Peter, greeted them and invited them to sit. His daughter, who worked as a waiter, brought them coffee. Actually, Peter and his daughter ran the café together. Peter’s wife was very sick these days and used to help, but now she couldn’t. They talked a little, drank their coffee, and then left.

Soon they reached the hospital. Outside, a crowd of people and press had gathered. William asked a Garda guard what had happened.

“Someone told the press about the murder,” the guard explained. “Goleen is a small town with about 20,000 people. Crimes like this don’t happen here, so everyone is scared.”

“Okay, make sure no one comes inside,” William instructed. Then he and Patrick went in to meet Dr. Joshua.

The doctor informed them, “The body died around 6 p.m. evening. He was killed first, then the head was cut. Age 32, white color, height 5.7 inches, and there is a cut mark below the right hand elbow. There are 7 knife stabs on the body, which caused a lot of blood loss and death.”

William seemed lost for a moment before asking, “What about the watch? Any clue?”

“It’s a Cartier model, a famous and expensive brand in the whole UK,” Joshua replied. “From it, we know the time of death—the watch stopped at 5:48 p.m. But we also found a fingerprint on it that is not the victim’s.”

“So it could be the killer’s,” William speculated.

“But how will we know whose fingerprint it is?” Patrick questioned, his curiosity seeming genuine, like a dedicated partner eager to learn.

“We don’t have that here yet,” Joshua admitted, “but if we go to London, maybe we can find out. I heard they are researching fingerprint technology a lot there.”

Then William’s phone rang. He excused himself and stepped aside to answer. Patrick asked Joshua if he could see the watch. “I joined officially today, so I haven’t seen many things.”

Joshua showed him. Patrick donned gloves and took the watch, but it nearly fell from his hand. He caught it with other hand.

“Careful,” Joshua warned, “it has the killer’s fingerprint.”

Patrick apologized for the mistake, his face flushing with what seemed like honest embarrassment. Then William returned.

“Because of you, we almost lost one and only evidence,” William chided.

“No,” Joshua reassured, “the fingerprint is safe, no worry.”

“Thank God,” Patrick murmured, then asked William, “Whose call was it?”

“Nothing special,” William dismissed. “Nora’s call. She wants to go to cinema this Christmas. Okay, let’s go to the station.” He told Joshua, “I’ll send you a list of some criminals. Can you check if the fingerprint matches any?”

“Yes,” Joshua agreed.

William stepped outside and lit a cigarette. He overheard two reporters conversing.

“Did you hear?” Reporter 1 asked. “A few hours ago, there was an explosion from a postal device in London’s GPO office.”

“Yes,” Reporter 2 confirmed, “one person is badly injured.”

“It was IRA’s work, Irish Republican Army, in their Great Britain campaign,” Reporter 1 continued.

“Do you think this murder is also their work, to spread fear here?” Reporter 2 pondered.

William was listening when Patrick called from the car, “We are getting late.” William tossed the cigarette butt and got in. They reached the station.

“Can you send some suspects’ files to Joshua?” William requested.

Patrick went to the desk to retrieve the files. William briefed his boss Roman on all the information. Roman showed him a photo and observed, “Don’t you think the body was dumped here? The murder happened somewhere else.”

William agreed. After some time, he started to leave for home.

“You go home,” Patrick offered. “I’ll give the files to Joshua and then leave.”

“Thank you,” William replied, and went home.

He reached home, where Nora opened the door.

“How was your day? Found anything?” she inquired, her voice warm but tinged with the fatigue of holding the home front alone.

“Not yet,” William answered. “But we have a fingerprint. We’ll match it with some criminals in the city.”

“I knew it because you forgot your second coat at the station again,” Nora teased.

William laughed. “Haha, my detective wife, you never forget anything.”

Then Catherine came running. “Papa.”

William picked her up and played with her, cherishing these moments that made the job’s darkness bearable. Nora announced, “I’ll set dinner; you freshen up.” They all had dinner together. Then Nora suggested romantically, “You go to the room; I’ll put Catherine to sleep and come.”

It was 10 p.m. William pondered the day’s events. Nora arrived and kissed him. Suddenly, Tim started barking again.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with him; I gave him food,” Nora complained.

“Leave it; he’ll quiet down,” William soothed. They went to sleep.

The next morning at 5 a.m., William’s phone rang. He ignored it initially, but it persisted. In half-sleep, he answered. It was Joshua. “You have to come to the hospital now. There was a fire in the lab.”

William got ready quickly and called Patrick to meet at the hospital, as it was 5 a.m. and very cold outside. He took his coat from the wardrobe and left for the hospital.

At the hospital, the fire had been controlled, but the evidence was destroyed. The fingerprint, watch, and victim’s body were half-burned. They could only bury it now. Patrick arrived too, his reliability a comfort in the chaos.

“Go ask if anyone saw anything,” William directed him.

“Bury the body,” William told Joshua. “Let’s see what we can do next.”

“The fingerprint is safe,” Joshua revealed. “I took a copy home.”

“Thank God, you are a genius,” William praised.

Then William, feeling the cold, put his hand in his coat pocket and found a cigarette pack. It was not William’s. He thought it might be from the crime scene that he had picked up that night. He handed the pack to Joshua and suggested, “Match its fingerprints with the one from the watch. Maybe we find something.”

Joshua placed the pack in a plastic bag.

Then Patrick brought a 55-year-old woman who reported, “Around 3 a.m., I saw a man standing near the lab.”

“You are the nurse here, right?” William confirmed. “Can you tell us something about him, anything to identify?”

“I couldn’t see him clearly,” the nurse admitted. “He had his face covered with a black cloth.”

“Are you sure it was a man?” Patrick pressed casually, his analytical side shining through. “It could be a woman too.”

“Why you think so if it was a man or woman, Patrick?” William questioned.

“Because look, there is a girl’s earring near the door,” Patrick pointed out, picking it up to show William. then joshua looked the earing and said“Hospital staff doesn’t wear this; the nurse is the only female staff, and no female patient was admitted last night. This could be from that person.”

“Yes, one more thing,” the nurse added. “When I called him, he heard me and started running, but while running, his right leg hit the door, and he started limping.”

“Thank you very much,” William expressed. “If we need more, we’ll call you to the station.”

Then William’s phone rang—it was Roman, very angry. “Two days passed, and the case is still the same.”

“We have a clue,” William updated. “A nurse saw someone at the hospital the night of the fire.”

“Do whatever; solve it before Christmas,” Roman demanded. “There is a lot of pressure from above. People are scared.”

“Okay boss, I’ll meet you at the station,” William promised. He said goodbye to Joshua, urged him to be careful, and left with Patrick and the single earring.

“Why not have a coffee?” William proposed. “My head is hurting “

Patrick agreed, and they stopped at the café. Peter’s daughter was at the counter. They sat at a table, and Patrick ordered, “Two strong coffees please.”

“I can’t understand how to find the killer,” William confided. “Roman seemed very angry.”

Then Peter’s daughter brought the coffee, placed it on the table, and turned to leave.

“Where is Peter? I don’t see him,” William asked.

“His health is bad, so he didn’t come today,” she explained, her voice steady despite the strain of her family’s hardships. Patrick noticed her ears—she had two different earrings.

“Why are your earrings different?” Patrick inquired quickly.

“One fell somewhere,” she replied. “I gave it to papa to sell for mom’s medicine. He lost it somewhere. So I can’t throw this one; I wore mom’s one. Mom gave me this earring on my 17th birthday.”

William took the earring from his pocket and matched it with hers. Patrick looked at William in surprise. They left the café, started the car, and drove toward Peter’s house. On the way, they passed the murder spot.

William stopped the car on the side. “What happened?” Patrick asked.

“Let’s check once more carefully,” William suggested. “Maybe we find something.”

They got out. “This area was sealed,” William noted. “Who opened it? The tapes are removed.”

They searched thoroughly, and under a small stone, there was a piece of tissue. William recognized it immediately. “This is the tissue from Blue Moon Café. It’s the only café in whole Goleen.”

Their doubt solidified into certainty: Peter must be the killer. William called the station for backup because Peter had a licensed revolver.

They reached Peter’s house. Before they could knock, two shots fired from the upstairs bedroom. They broke the door and rushed up. They saw Peter’s wife bleeding and struggling on the bed, with Peter pointing the revolver at her. They jumped on him and wrested the revolver from his hand.

William handcuffed Peter, who started crying loudly, his face a mask of desperation born from love and loss.

“Call ambulance quickly,” William instructed Patrick.

“She doesn’t have much time,” Patrick assessed. “Ambulance will take time. I’ll take her in our car. Backup is coming; you take Peter to the station.”

William agreed. Patrick picked up Peter’s wife, placed her in the car, and drove fast toward the hospital in the December cold and fog, speeding through the mist.

Meanwhile, William took Peter to the station with backup.

A few hours later, William’s phone rang. It was Patrick from the hospital, reporting that Peter’s wife was no longer in this world.

“Give the body for postmortem and you go home too,” William directed. “The case will be solved tomorrow.”

He asked Peter, “Why did you do all this?” But Peter didn’t answer, just kept crying. So William placed him in the cell and planned to question him tomorrow. He took his coat from the desk and left for home.

At home, he told Nora, “No hunger today; don’t set food. Where is Catherine?”

“She slept early today,” Nora replied. “But what happened?”

“Nothing; the killer is caught,” William revealed.

Nora was shocked. “That’s good news. Who is he?”

“Peter,” William disclosed.

“What? Really? But he was such a good person,” Nora exclaimed.

“Yes, and today he shot his own wife,” William continued. “She died in the hospital.”

“Oh my God, we can’t trust anyone these days,” Nora lamented. She went to the bedroom. William freshened up, joined her, hugged her, and tried to sleep. Then Tim started barking again.

William, angry, went outside. He saw Tim barking toward a bush on the road. Approaching the bush, he found nothing there. On the ground were some cigarette butts. He went back, quieted Tim, and returned inside.

The next morning, William got ready and sat in the car with Catherine. On the way, she pleaded, “Papa, today I want to go home with you. I saw a doll in a toy shop for myself. Please papa, buy it for me today.”

William smiled a little. “Okay my princess, today I’ll buy your doll and then go home.”

He dropped Catherine at school and went to the station. There, he saw Peter’s daughter crying at the gate, begging to meet her father. William approached her, gave her water, sat her at a table, and calmed her.

Inside, he saw Patrick and Roman arguing. When they noticed William, Patrick exited Roman’s cabin and headed to the interrogation room where Peter sat.

They entered. William offered Peter a glass of water and sat in front of him at the table. Patrick leaned against the right wall.

“So tell me, coffee specialist, or should I say murder specialist, hmm?” Patrick taunted. “Why did you kill two people?”

“I only killed my wife, no one else,” Peter insisted.

“I hate lies,” William snarled. “Tell the truth or we have other ways.”

“But I am telling the truth,” Peter protested. “I killed my wife whom I loved a lot.” He cried.

Patrick, angry, slapped Peter.

“Stop Patrick, calm down,” William intervened. “He will tell. So Peter, why did you do all this? Outside, your daughter is crying, suffering. People hate you and your daughter now. The hands that made coffee for whole Goleen, now no one even asks for water.”

Peter cried and confessed, “I am telling the truth. My wife was very sick. I needed money for her treatment. I even thought of selling the café, but then I thought of my daughter’s future, so I changed my mind. That day, when I went to the hospital for my wife’s medicine, I heard your and Joshua’s talk from behind the curtain—that the watch is very expensive. So I thought to steal it and sell it for my wife’s treatment. That’s why I went to the hospital that night.”

“If we believe your story for a moment,” William posed, “why did you try to destroy evidence? Why we found your cafe napkin at the crime scene? Why did you set fire to the hospital?”

“I didn’t set the fire,” Peter clarified. “I was about to go inside the lab when the nurse saw me and shouted. I got scared and ran, but my leg hit the door.”

“Oh yes, those files burned too,” William recalled. “So Peter, if your story is true, why did you kill your wife?”

“Because I couldn’t see her in more pain,” Peter sobbed. “Her suffering was too much for me. So I decided to kill her and then suicide. But you people came and caught me. My wife died, but I couldn’t.” He put his head on the table and cried. Now William was confused. If Peter is telling the truth, who killed the man whose headless body we found?

Pondering this, William and Patrick left the interrogation room. Patrick looked worried, his usual composure cracking just a bit.

“No worry,” William reassured him. “We’ll soon find if he is lying or telling truth. No need to worry.” Then he asked Patrick, “What was the talk with Roman?”

Patrick changed the topic. “Nothing; Roman said we are working carelessly.”

William grew angry. “Wait, I’ll talk to boss. How can he say that?”

“Leave it,” Patrick advised. “This case is more important.”

Then William asked a Garda, “Where did Peter’s daughter go?”

“She went to the hospital to take her mom’s body,” the Garda replied.

They stepped out of the station. William reached for his cigarette pack to smoke one, but it was empty. So he asked Patrick for a cigarette. Patrick gave him one and lit one for himself too.

At that moment, William’s phone rang. It was Joshua.

“Hello doc, what news?” William greeted.

“Come to the hospital right now,” Joshua urged.

“What happened? Did you get a clue?” William pressed.

“Hard to tell on call; come quickly,” Joshua insisted.

“Okay, I’m coming,” William confirmed.

He told Patrick, “Can you pick up my daughter from school? She wants a toy, so take her to the toy store and drop her home. I have to go to the hospital now. A big clue came.”

“What clue?” Patrick inquired.

“Don’t know; will find out there,” William evaded.

“Okay, I’ll pick up Catherine,” Patrick agreed.

“Thank you friend,” William expressed. “If something important, I’ll call okay.”

“Okay bye,” Patrick farewelled.

William started the car and headed to the hospital. Patrick went to pick up Catherine.

On the way, William was deep in thought about all these things. He became so lost that he didn’t see a small puppy on the road ahead. When he was about to hit the puppy, he pressed the brakes hard and turned the car right. With a loud noise, the car stopped. William and the puppy were safe. Then he saw his cigarette burning near his foot by the brake. He crushed it with his shoe and started the car again toward the hospital.

Soon he reached the hospital, parked the car on the side, and got out. His eyes fell on the cigarette butt. He was about to throw it when he stopped and stared at it. Suddenly he remembered—this cigarette is not JPS (John Player Special); it’s BHS (Benson & Hedges Special).

At that time, Joshua came running, breathing hard. “William, I went to London last evening with the cigarette and watch fingerprints. And guess what, both are from the same person—100% match. And Peter’s wife’s postmortem report came. Her death was not from bullets, but from strangling. Of the two bullets, one hit the shoulder; the other passed through the waist.”

Now William’s mind spun. Slowly, everything started making sense. BHS cigarettes are Patrick’s favorite. The butts near his house—maybe that’s why Tim barked every night. not becouse of hunger but maybe he saw someone, He was thinking this when his phone rang. It was Nora.

He answered. From the other side: “Will, where are you? Is Catherine with you? She hasn’t come home yet.”

Then William remembered—he had told Patrick to pick up Catherine. With a scared and worried voice, he told Nora, “I’ll call you in a little while.” He disconnected and called Patrick. But the phone was switched off. He tried many times—same, switched off.

Then Peter’s daughter arrived. “Papa didn’t do anything,” she pleaded. “Patrick made him do it. He came to our house one day and talked to papa. I heard everything secretly. He tempted papa with money, said if he does his work, he’ll give money for mom’s treatment. My papa is innocent; let him go. Now I have no one except him.”

Now William was sure—all that had happened in the last few days was Patrick’s doing.but why? and how? he is my chilhood friend, the he suddenly remember right now, the most important thing was to save his daughter, who was with him.

He called Roman quickly and told everything. He said he needed the full team to find Patrick. Roman arranged that. Then Roman informed him, “When I was making Patrick’s new files, his fingerprint didn’t match. That’s why I was telling him in my office today to go back or bring full files, or we’ll suspend him temporarily. But he argued and asked for more time.”

William didn’t know what to do. Then Roman called again, saying he had sent a team to Patrick’s house.

William started his car and drove at full speed to Patrick’s house. When he reached, no one was there. The team searched the whole house. On the walls were many photos—of William, his wife and daughter, Peter’s, Roman’s. It meant Patrick was spying on all of them. Then William’s eyes fell on one photo, and he understood where Patrick would be. He ran to his car, started it, and drove toward his own house. Actually, that photo was from the school group, with Nora and him as kids, and a red circle on it.

He kept calling Nora, but there was no answer. After about half an hour, he reached home. He left the car on the road and ran toward the house. He saw the door open. He went inside slowly. From the basement, a voice came: “Throw your gun, William, and come down here slowly. No smartness.”

William descended to the basement. He saw his wife and daughter tied to chairs, unconscious. Patrick stood behind them with a gun, his once-trusted face now a mask of cold calculation.

“What did you do to them?” William demanded angrily. “If anything happens to them, I won’t leave you alive.”

Patrick smiled. “Why? Will you complain to the principal?”

“I don’t understand,” William confessed.

Patrick directed him to sit on a chair and began tying him. After tying, he probed, “Do you remember anything now?”

“No,” William denied. “Who are you? Why are you doing this?”

“You didn’t recognize me,” Patrick revealed. “I am John, John Sheehan. Years ago, you two got me thrown out of school. You stole my childhood. I just loved Nora truly, but she never understood my love. Instead, she complained and ruined my life.”

“Look, what happened is past,” William urged. “Forget it. Yes, I made a mistake, but why punish my wife and daughter for it?”

“No no no, I won’t kill you,” Patrick countered. “How can I give you such easy death? I came to take your wife and daughter from you. So you feel what it’s like to lose loved ones. When one day feels like years, when you can’t sleep at night, no hunger, no thirst, no peace, just tears all the time.”

“I don’t understand,” William repeated.

Patrick laughed. “Okay, I’ll fulfill this wish too, partner. Hahaha. So you remember, you are responsible for my ruined life. When you took Nora to the principal and complained about me, he said many bad things to my mom in front of me and threw me out of school. Then in anger, I hit him on the head with his own flower vase.

Then my mom took me home and told my dad everything. My dad, who often beat my mom, didn’t understand me. He didn’t understand my love, or say my childish mistake. He hit my mom and started beating me too. Because he was very strict, he wanted me to become a businessman like him, but I didn’t want that. Then he grabbed my mom’s hair and was about to throw her out of the house. In anger, I took his revolver and shot him. He died.

Then my mom took me and ran from the city. On the way, our accident happened, and mom also left this world. When I asked for help from people around, Peter helped take my mom to hospital. Then he asked what happened; I told everything. But when I told about dad, he gave me to the police.

I got 18 years in jail. And all this happened in my life because? Just because I wanted love. In those 18 years, every day I thought how to take revenge from you. Then one day my sentence ended, and I was free. Then on 17 December night, I came to your house to kill you. them I saw you, your daughter, and Nora were so happy. After ruining my life.

Then you got a call, where Roman told you Patrick is coming tomorrow. Then I made this plan. First, I went to the house where Patrick was coming. I waited for him. Around 5 p.m., I saw him get out of a taxi and go inside. He went straight to shower. When he came out, I caught him and tied him like this. Then I tortured him so he told me everything about you and the station. After my work, I stabbed him many times with a knife nearby, and he died.

Then I put his body on my shoulder and went toward the jungle to bury it. But I saw some people coming from the other side of the road. I got scared and threw the body there. Then I thought if someone recognizes him, my plan will fail. So in hurry, I cut his head and buried it in the jungle.

Then I hid and came to his house, and next morning, I prepared to join duty as Patrick. I thought if I somehow make you the killer of your own daughter and wife, you will rot in jail like me.

When I came to your house next day, even though you invited, I didn’t go inside. I was scared Nora might recognize me.

Then when I knew my fingerprints are on the watch, I wanted to destroy it, but Joshua didn’t let me. Then I saw Peter sad in the hospital, so I went to his house at night and told him to steal the watch, promised money in return.

But he failed and ran away scared. Because of time shortage, I set fire to the hospital myself to destroy evidence. And it happened.

But Peter got too scared and emotional. He asked me for money; I didn’t give because he didn’t do the work. Then he tried to blackmail me, so I threatened to kill his daughter. He Realized he is not able to save her wife, He got scared and decided to kill his wife and himself.

But because of you, we reached on time and caught him alive. I was scared he might tell everything, so when I was taking his wife to hospital, I saw she might survive, so I thought to kill her. So I killed his wife, and put his café’s tissue at the crime scene.

Then I called his daughter to the station myself, so I can scare Peter about the consequences of opening his mouth.

Everything was going perfect, but because of Joshua, my plan failed. And dropping that cigarette box was my biggest mistake. My plan was to do all this on Christmas Eve, when the whole world and you celebrate, and at that time, I take everything from you.

Anyway, it’s not too late yet. You suffer your end a little early.”

After hearing all this, William pleaded, “Please don’t do this. I am the guilty one; kill me, but let my daughter and wife go.”

Patrick laughed. By then, Nora and Catherine had woken up and started crying. Their mouths were tied with cloth. They just looked at William hopelessly. William kept begging Patrick to let them go.

But Patrick laughed loudly and turned his gun toward Catherine, about to shoot. Then a bullet hit Patrick’s head. Patrick’s gun also fired, and the bullet hit Catherine’s shoulder.

The bullet to Patrick came from Roman. His team had reached on time because Peter’s daughter went to the station and met Peter. There, Peter told everything about Patrick. At that time, Peter saw the photo that police brought from Patrick’s house and recognized John. He told everything that happened with John years ago. From that, Roman understood where John would be. He took his team and saved William and his family on time.

Three days later, on Christmas evening, William, Nora, and Catherine decorated the Christmas tree together. William was very happy. They were all together.

On the coffee table sat an untouched pack of Benson & Hedges cigarettes. Next to it was a small gift box, wrapped nicely. William’s hands shook as he opened it.

Inside was Catherine’s favorite doll—the exact one she had asked for days before. A small note was tucked in the ribbon, written in neat handwriting:

“Merry Christmas, partner. I always kept my promises. See you in hell. —John”

The doll’s glass eyes looked up at them. Nora gasped. Catherine made a small scared sound and hid her face. William looked out the window at the fresh white snow. In the middle of the garden path were three cigarette butts—Benson & Hedges. They were still burning with small orange glows. Smoke rose slowly into the cold air.

Someone had been there… just moments ago.

The end.

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