William

The room was the size of a large bedroom and was sparsely decorated. In the centre was a heavy wooden table, on one side of which sat a battered metal chair. Opposite this chair were two more, which were in slightly better condition. The room was painted a cold and efficient dark grey, from the ceiling to the floor and around the three walls. The final wall was actually made of what looked like black glass. It had all the characteristics of a police interrogation room, which is what it was.

 He door opened and in walked a tall but sleight man with pale skin and longish black hair that hung down to his shoulders. He had a pointy beard on his chin, and sported a fine moustache. He was followed by a handsome looking woman in a light blue suite, which contrasted well against the dark walls, making her appear as a beacon of light in a dark place.  Though she was slightly built she had an air of confidence that was drenched in emotional strength.

‘Please take a seat,’ she said to the man, indicating to the empty single chair, which she walked around to the other side of the table and chose one of the pair.

The man sat down and placed both his hands palm down on the table.

‘OK, lets start with your name,’ said the woman.

‘William, William Shakespeare,’ said the man.

‘OK William, my name is Kathryn, do you have anything to identify you?’

‘No.’

‘William Shakespeare, now he was a famous playwright wasn’t he?’

‘Yes, I still am,’ replied William.

‘Sure OK,’ laughed Kathryn, humouring the man ‘and why are you here?’

‘I killed two teenagers ... I mean to say I set them up,’ said William solemnly.

Kathyrn sat up straighter in her chair, but didn’t let on that this statement disturbed her.

‘Did you know the victims?’

‘Yes, I did.’

‘And what were their names?’ Kathryn asked, as she scribbled away on a large yellow note pad she had brought with her.

‘Romeo and Juliet,’ William replied.

‘OK, that’s enough,’ said Kathyrn sternly, ‘who sent you here? Is this some kind of set up? Did one of the boys send you here?’

‘No.’ answered William.

Kathryn looked at him for a moment, sizing him up. As one of the few female detectives at the Saint March precinct she had borne the brunt of many practical jokes from her male colleagues over the past years. She had hoped that they had finally accepted her, but there seemed to be no end to their audacity. She couldn’t decide if this guys was just part of another set-up or if he was actually serious, in which case he could be mentally ill. But if their were victims lying dead somewhere, well then she had a duty to find them. She decided to play along for a bit longer and see where this went.

‘Let’s say I believe you then, you’re telling me that you killed two kids?’

‘I didn’t kill them myself, I set them up so they killed themselves. It was cruel and I must atone for what I have done,’ explained William.

‘And why would you do that?’

‘The usual reasons I guess, for the money and the fame.’

‘Were they the only victims?’ asked Kathyrn.

‘Yes, there were 2 more. Mercutio and Tybalt.’

‘You do realise that these are all characters from one of Shakespeare’s plays,  not real people,’ said Kathryn looking William in the eyes. It looked like he might be more in need of a psychiatrist than a detective.

‘No, no they are real, they are real people who have suffered because of my arrogance! I created the situation that brought them all together and took them to their deaths, I gave them the poison, I can prove it!’ yelled William getting to his feet.

‘OK, I believe you, please return to your seat and calm down,’ said Kathryn, unfazed.

‘I can take you to the bodies,’ said William, sitting back down.

‘Sure, we can arrange to take you anywhere you need to go.’

‘Verona, they are in the chapel on Verona street.’

‘I’ll go and talk to my Captain now, but we should be able to roll within the next 10 minutes. Are you willing to come with us and direct us to the crime scene?’

‘Yes, of course,’ answered William, who sounded relieved, ‘thank you for believing me.’

‘We’ll see,’ said Kathyrn pessimistically.

Ten minutes later, William was bundled into the back of a squad car while Kathryn climbed into the passenger seat. Beside her in the driver’s seat was Officer Gadinsky, who was happy to get away from her desk for a few hours.  

As they drove through the heat of the afternoon, down the back alley’s of what was once a thriving neighbourhood but was now mostly derelict, a victim itself of the recession, their journey was mostly conducted in silence, broken only occasionally with William providing directions. Eventually they arrived at the little rundown church.

Kathyrn got out of the car and cautiously walked up to the door. Gently she grasped the old wooden handles and pulled the right door open. The smell hit her almost immediately. It was a scent she recognised instantly as death. It was not a smell you easily forgot. Walking down to the aisle towards the alter, she could just make out the bodies of a teenage boy and girl in the gloom of the unlit chapel. Strangely they wore name tags.  The boy’s said ‘Romeo’ and the girl’s ‘Juliet’.

‘This must be part of his fantasy,’ Kathryn whispered to herself before she called in her find to the office.

Leaving the church so as not to disturb the crime scene further she walked back out into the sunlight and headed straight to the car.

‘William Shakespeare,’ she said leaning in the front door, ‘you are under arrest for the deaths of Romeo and Juliet.’