I can't speak French, but I know I've seen this before.
I was given the address over the radio. I wrote it down and then copied it onto my Sat Nav.
I like to pride myself on my attention to detail. I have a very good memory, normally for numerical information.
It just didn't regsiter in my mind.
Maybe I hadn't processed the information fully, I was concentrating on getting to the job.
The Sat Nav took me to the start of the street. I drove down it at about 15mph so I could see the numbers. Not many houses have their number visible. It's a guessing game sometimes. If I ever meet the person responsible for numbering some streets, well...
There was the number '27' in red glass, in the centre of a fixed pane window above a large Victorian door.
It's coming back to me now. I've been here before.
I let the control room know that I've arrived and I got my case out of the back of the van. I put a pair of gloves on and walked towards the door.
All the while, I'm looking at the property, trying to figure out why I have been here before. I can't quite put my finger on it.
There were a set of six doorbells on the right hand side of the door frame. There's a red painted step up, from the driveway.
I've got it. I've been here before for a suicide.
Standby, this could be a bit awkward.
I rang the doorbell for number six. That's the flat I went to last time. Top floor.
I was buzzed in and the occupant met me in the stairs.
I held my breath as I heard the occupant walking towards me. I let out a small sigh of relief when I realised that it wasn't the same family as it was when I was here last.
"Hiya Luv" "Come on up" She said.
I followed her to the flat door.
She had been burgled. I was there to examine the scene for evidence.
As far as I'm aware, she had no idea that someone had commited suicide in her flat, only a few months ago.
She walked me through the flat. All of her stuff was there, but it looked just as it did before. There was an atmosphere, but nothing like when I was here before. I created this atmosphere.
She took me to the point of entry, a sash window beside a fire escape in the single bedroom.
As I walk in, I see the very same wardrobe that the twenty-something lad had used to hang himself. The furniture in the room hasn't changed. It's all exactly as it was.
The male had used his belt through the closed wardrobe door. His girlfriend had commited suicide six months earlier.
He left a poem that explained how he felt and why he felt he needed to go. There were two or three atempts that had been screwed up in the bin.
I've said it before, no doubt I'll say it again; It's a sad situation that people think suicide is the only answer.
I examind the scene and retrieved some footwear exhibits. I fingerprinted a jewellery box and had two fingerprints that belonged to the offender.