Disappearances from Penlake Mansion

D.I Morris is a lonely but extremely wealthy man who is not used to getting things wrong. D.I Wilkinson, a wife and proud mother, is very used to getting things right. When these two people are forced to work together on a burglary case at Penlake Manison, they think they have it covered. But as they dig deeper, is it as straight -forward as it seems?

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1. Detective Inspector Morris

My Office, August 7th

I stepped out of the my polished black Porsche and walked carefully up the steps to my work - the police station. The fog was heavy like a cloud of smoke surrounding, me which was rather unusual for a August afternoon. There was rain falling weightlessly from the sky making the air around me feel clamy. It made me feel uneasy.

I removed my leather driving gloves and placed them neatly into my black briefcase beside my laptop. I put my hand on the cold, slightly wet door handle, pulled and entered.

The warmth of the room hit me, warming my entire body. I was greeted by a familiar face, an old looking man named Arthur. He'd worked at this police station for 35 years and had had almost every job imaginable in the police force. 

"Good afternoon D.I Morris" he exclaimed in his strong, Scottish accent. "It's a wee bit nippy outside today. How are you doing?" To others, Arthur was a lovely old gentlemen who was always up for a friendly conversation. To me, Arthur's suffocating cheeriness was far too overbearing.

"Fine," I replied, cutting the conversation short.

"Anyway," He continued, "I've been told to give you this report about the burglary from Penlake Mansion yesterday. You and D.I Wilkinson will be working on this case. Have a read through and tell me what you think."

Arthur handed me the folder labled 'Penlake Mansion' and walked behind the counter turning on the kettle. I took the opportunity and hurried off into my office before he had chance to engage me in conversation - I wasn't in the mood for pointless small talk.

My office was even warmer than the rest of the building, just how I like it. Although it may not look it, my office is very organised. I have a fine mahogany desk in the centre of the room in  front of a large window. To the left of my room is a wall sized book shelf of books I adore, and to the right my computer desk. I opened the blinds and was happy to see that the rain had eased despite the fog. Now, I sit at my desk, about the open the folder and see what I can gather.

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