Reporting 2019, Incident: Denver’s Case Case Number-206

The time was 1:03 AM, it was dark as coal.

The clouds bawled their eyes out, the constant shower of their tears formed puddles all around. The waves were crashing against the walls of the houses, carrying mud along with it. The raindrops were attacking the glass panes and the roofs like bullets. The clouds were growling and roaring, increasing fear among the residents of LA. The lightning was a frequent guest, consequently editing the scene. Clouds crashed against each other as if there was a war going on: they fired water bullets which struck hard on the umbrellas swimming below them. The sky wore a black mask today and it thundered and thundered and thundered.

Suddenly, a woman’s scream was heard, it’s magnitude was higher than the roaring clouds. Stating the harsh conditions outside, something even worse had taken place inside The Pacific Ocean- the high rise, luxurious apartment.
THE DEAFENING SCREAM CAME WITH A SCANDALOUS REASON, LEAVING A SOLID MYSTERY BEHIND IT.

The scream was no less than the thunder at the scene. People feared the reason for it. As minutes passed by, a swarm of people kept adding to the crowd. The crowd placed itself right before the door of 1001 from where the scream had originated. There was hustle and bustle, there was chaos, there was confusion, there was a fearful curiosity. The neighbours’ heart raced, there was panic among them.

They slid questions to each other with fear hung on their faces. Adults made up of the crowd. A few towering men stood at the back while the short ladies were trying hard to elevate themselves, by stretching their toes to the maximum, to grab a look at the 1001 door. The door 1001 remains shut as if blocked from all the innumerable answers for the numerous questions rushing inside the strangers‘ heads. The neighbours were confused and craved for the answers. A lady knocked at the door of 1001. All ears waited patiently. There was no reply. They signalled her to knock again. New layers added to the crowd.

She knocked. She heard someone weep inside. The crowd did not care about privacy issues, and they all barged inside the apartment.
It was dark. No lights. No movement, only hysteric weeps.

A few went further in following the hysteric weeps. The weeps were their navigator for the destination of the crime scene.Flashes pranced inside the apartment, advancing closer and closer to the weeps. White sparkles halted before the study room, the torch bearers cast as ghosts. As their phones swayed inside, Marisa was discovered, crying. As the focus shifted, a knife- a bloody knife.

Next to it, Denver whose six foot tall sturdy body laid there, stationary. His blue eyes were frozen lakes that stared at the ceiling, emotionless.

“Why is he sleeping on the floor?”

“I don’t think he is sleeping.”

“Wait.”

A beam of light scanned his body from top to bottom.

Blood.

As the light shifted, cut marks were spotlighted on Denver’s wrist. The crowd gasped.
All eyes were fixed in one place. They did not make any noise, but they also were not internally calm. They all were petrified!

Surrounding his body was a pool of red blood that gradually increased its diameter. His body was floating in the red sea, his hands wide open, perpendicular to his body. No one advanced as if there was an invisible boundary created around them. No one would dare to. Half of the crowd faded, horrified.

One of the tall figures called the ambulance and the police. Within the silence among the crowd, the weeps created a thundering effect. One of them whispered, “I think she killed him?”, there was no answer.

Persistent silence.

“Did his wife kill him with this knife?”

“Why is she crying, if she killed him?”

“Or is it a suicide?”

“I am not staying here, this woman seems dangerous.”

“Yes, let us get out. This monster might kill us as well.”

People found it safe to leave the crime scene isolated but right before that, Marisa overwhelmed with shock and horror, bolted out of 1001 with tears streaming down her cheeks. One hand, wiping off her tears, while the other clenched. People marginalized as if to make way for her, or were perhaps scared to stay close to the “Murderer.” They gave her way, not out of respect but fear. A few flashes, now highlighting her black eyes and sweaty hair.

Marisa was Denver’s ​dear wife and Denver was Marisa’s​ dearest​ husband.

Marisa did not care about the crowd. She already had a lot to care about. Her senses were incapable of interpreting the strenuous news of the death of her beloved husband. Consequently, her heart of glass was shattered into fine pieces of insufferable grief. She was grieving uncontrollably. Her instability displayed her encounter with a horrific deed.

She left, slamming the door hard, scaring the house, the people, and possibly the dead body.

The lava was settling after the disastrous volcanic eruption that took place a few minutes back. The light was fading as the flashes were disappearing.
The door heard, “ I can’t stay near a dead body. There is a lot of blood here. I have hemophobia.”

“This is scary, I am leaving too. We should leave the crime scene alone.”

The white door, which had a 1001 label on it, saw a wave of fearful people leave. It waved them goodbye in a very polite manner and also urged them to never come back.

Darkness conquering the house, again.

A few courageous men stayed, accompanying Denver, although a few metres away from him, with their backs facing the body. Silence.

The black couldn’t identify the grim faces that hung in the pungent air. It could feel the heavy breaths of the faintly visible souls.

In the persistent silence of the dead and the living, police car sirens were clearly audible.

“I think the police are here.”, a vague outline said.

“I think I shall try turning on the lights.” The ghostlike body moved around with his torch light on,spotlighting every part of the study room, in an effort to find the switch board.

“Here it is!”, he exclaimed. Surveying through the numerous switches, he turned all of them on. No light.

“The police will be here any second.”, an affirming note was passed.

Even though only a few men stayed inside 1001, a large fusion of people was present outside 1001, right at the door. The news of the death diffused like a scent of perfume, and in minutes everyone had smelt the horrifying deed. The news kept on circulating among the media, the apartments, the entire area and finally ended up on the TV and in newspapers in huge, bold letters.

The crowd expanded, seconds later as the big bang happened.

Initially, there were the neighbours, later even the building members, authorities, media, and some people from other apartments contributed to the crowd, multiplying. The crowd stood outside the apartment.

Police and the investigators, all well-equipped swooped inside the apartment. As the white door was flung open, the tumult flowed into the silence. The lights returned, acting friendly to the police. The forensics inspectors wore gloves and a white plastic suit. The police inspectors came with their guns and notepads, and they wore foot gloves on since their muddy shoes would hamper the crime scene footprints. With a serious look hung on his face, the head of the department questioned the security guards about the apartment number. As they reached the crime scene, a flock of people had to be sent back home to continue further investigations. The crowd subtracted from the crime scene and so did the hustle and bustle.

The team of courageous men moved away and gave the officers space.

The police team divided into groups and began their investigations.

The officers, with their gloves on, began speculating the place. Every inch was attended. A strip surrounding Denver’s body declared-‘CRIME SCENE DO NOT CROSS.’ The forensics department hung with cameras, magnifying glasses, and scanning machines to capture every detail that they could witness, began its search for microscopic details.

The study room was now a green room where the officers brushed powder to identify fingerprints.

The camera captured blood coming out of his wrist. The high-quality Canon lens showed deep knife marks on his wrist. Albert noticed a tell-tale bulge in Denver’s front pocket; he glided his hands into Denver’s pocket, revealing a gun. The gun was put into the evidence bag, which was taken for further forensics research. There was also a knife found near his body, with blood smeared on its shiny surface. Albert carefully packed that in a separate bag. He advanced closer to the dead body, his eyes sweeping down the corpse.

“Seems like a suicide. We’ll still have to check for the fingerprints on the knife and the gun.”

His sharp eyes scanned the entire study room, trying to locate evidence, maybe a suicide note. The study room was large. It had a wooden desk with a lamp on it; a big shelf of books; a whiteboard, and a big T.V.

There were no CCTV cameras inside this apartment. The walls were all clear, nothing on the whiteboard, and on the ceiling. The mess was only on the floor, now a red floor. Everything seemed at the right place.
Albert left the study room and went to the three courageous men.

“What had happened before we arrived?”

“Sir, Marisa had screamed, so we all came here. Soon, after we came, she left crying.”

“Where did she go?”

“I have no idea.”

“What about the others? Did they just leave after encountering the corpse?”

“Yes, pretty much.”

The tall man replied in a low tone.

“You all may go now.”

The police sent the body for forensics examination to check for the presence of any bullets inside his body.

The forensics officers identified fifteen different fingerprints inside the apartment. They assumed that it all belonged to the crowd.

Reporting Officer: Jonathan Andrews

This hints towards suicide. What would have caused a big businessperson like Denver to commit suicide? Or was it not a suicide? What was his wife doing at that time?

Diary, 15 May,2015 The best day ever!

Let me warn you this is my thudding heartbeat and no danger! So relax and listen to the beautiful fantasy that transformed into reality on this precious day. It was a magnificent day! Today is the official day when I finally got married to my love –as you already know –Zara, the most beautiful angel of my heavenly fantasies. Some moments in my life are so precious that I do not publicize them but instead, I let them reside deep inside my heart forever, Forever.....but you being my best friend, deserve to know about my story. I was so mesmerized by this event, that I am failing to frame a perfect sentence to describe the most perfect moment of my life.
It was a fantabulous day! My heart is still beating hard from the time I woke up, and I am sure it will never slow down from today. These moments are so precious that I just want to relive them every second behind the shutters of my eyes. Okay,so coming back to the topic..We married at the beach. That is overly exciting. We both wanted our wedding place to be a beautiful beach.The place could not have been better.

The azure sky was grinning above us as if even the sky was a part of our wedding. The sun scattered its warmth, brushing it over all of us. The bronze sand sparkled like millions of tiny diamonds.

Flowers were carpeted over the sand. The pink ornamenting the golden. Flower stands stood like pillars on the sand. The surge of colours in the bunch of flowers accessorized the scene. Ten people were invited and all came. At that point, I did not even care about the beach, but Zara was what mattered at that time. She wore a white dress and held flowers in her hand. The smile on her face, that perfect arc of her lips and her ocean like eyes was enough to please me. I was not at the beach but somewhere else- somewhere that does not require a name. A happy place for Zara and me. We all had a great time! I will never forget this day! I just realized that I have not stopped smiling till now. I never will because I have Zara! My heart is still thumping against my chest. I am so in love with her, even you can tell that.