The First Chapter of a short story.
Timothy stared at the dented car door, careful not to touch any of the fingerprints he put it back onto the table. Why the criminals decided that they should steal his first car was unclear to him. Timothy froze as the door creaked. “We have to go” the officer said. Taking one last look at the damaged car, he left with the policeman to be escorted home. During the trip Timothy thought about the day. Once again he was told not to investigate the case, this however was something he had to do. Timothy had his hand to the seatbelt, eager to leave the car. The officer stopped at 32 Robinson Street. “Here you go” the officer yawned. “Thankyou” Tim replied. Timothy opened the door to a mess of a house. Walking through the piles of newspapers, letters and scrap paper Timothy finally made it to his office. He placed a notebook on his desk and opened it up to the middle of the book. He had drawn a picture of the destroyed car with rough drawings of the dents. Timothy Sighed. How could he possible solve this case? An idea shot into his head. The fingerprints! He had planned to pick up his car the next day. he would then take the fingerprint samples in for scanning at his uncles lab.
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