Rip Tony Blair

R.I.P. Tony Blair

P.C. Justin Case ran trough the door. “You have to look at this!” he screamed. I was sitting in my office, in my ordinary chair, I was calm, I was drinking coffeedoctor and I was watching telly. Suddenly Just In Case (we like to call him that) broke the silence with his rude words. “Calm down, it can’t be so important,” I said. “Oh, yes it is, in fact it could hardly be worse,” now he was yelling. “Tony Blair has been shot, and soon he’s dead.” “Oh gosh, we have to hurry,” I said while I was putting my coat on. We both ran out of the door to the closest car. We found a useable car quickly and we drove to the primeministers home where he was shot.

Tony Blair had already been sent to hospital with ambulance when we arrived on the scene of the crime. Now the place was filled up with technicians, investigators, policemen and journalist. We (still I and Justin Case) tried to find the actually spot where Tony Blair was shot. A couple of guys in suit stood around a quite big blood spot and a chalk drawing. I recognised one of the guys, Terry Fied, the chief of the Scotland Yard. Soon he saw me too, and he walked toward me. “Do you really know what’s happen?” I asked. Terry Fied said: “About a half an hour ago a man in a green jacket suddenly shot Tony Blair in his back and the unknown man drove away in a car, properly a black BMW. Nobody has seen him since. My folks have closed all the main roads out of London, the airports and the undergroundsystem is also closed. We really need to find this guy. And I don’t trust my folks. The only person I trust now is you.” “Ok, but I can’t promise anything. It would be extremely difficult. I will set everything between heaven and earth in action to catch this idiot,” I said after a short brake. “Come on Justin, we have a job to do.”

We drove back to the office. I had to gather my thoughts. First was Tony Blair shot and short time after I had been sat on the case. In a way it was a dream which was coming true (not that Blair was shot, but that I had been sat on the case).

Next morning all the TV-channels only talked about Tony Blair. Tony Blair’s situation was still critical. The bullet had hit some of the vital organs and he had to go through many operations. At the office I met Justin; he had already been on the scene of the crime to collect technical proofs. “Did you find something interesting?” I asked. “Oh yes, maybe even a breakthrough,” he answered. “I found some fingerprints. I was going to check them