Mostrando entradas con la etiqueta police statement. Mostrar todas las entradas
Mostrando entradas con la etiqueta police statement. Mostrar todas las entradas

lunes, 13 de septiembre de 2010

Police statement.


Read the following police statement of a suspect of murder, taken at two different times, and answer the questions at the end of it.


“It’s hard to remember. It happened a long time ago. I… I am very tired. I can’t go on…
It was a windy evening. It was dark… dark and windy. I was wearing my brown cap, the one that my uncle gave me for my twenty-first birthday. It was my favorite one, all blue with my name written in maze. Yes, this was a really beautiful cap. But now, I hate it. The door was unlocked, as always. I saw a big silhouette behind the curtains. It must have been a guy, a big guy, I mean. He was this type of guy that people cannot forget. Soundless. Not… not a single sound. He was moving fast, from the kitchen to the backroom window… I thought he may have been a thief.
Hey, it’s weird. Such a big guy, stampeding through the house, without a single sound, not even the cracking of the floor. Jesus… this floor is really noisy. I told the landlord again and again to do something, but he always gave it a miss. Yeah, it’s weird.
So ... I get into the house. Slow, like a church mouse. My god, I was trembling with fear. My teeth could have been listened from the police station. It crossed my mind that they could break down from chattering. He was a big guy, I mean, fucking massive, man. He may still be around, maybe … armed! So… that was me, going upwards … slow, really slow. Not a sound, not a movement, but a weird smell. Something like pumpkin soup. Weird, man.
Then, I saw… saw her. Rachel. She still was in her nightie. Red. She was covered in r- … blood. I kneeled next to her. She may be alive. I touched her neck. My sweetie. I tried to get her back, but couldn’t. I couldn’t do anything. Now and again, came to my mind our good memories together. Man! This fucking fat bastard had killed my girlfriend. My sweetie. My Rachel.
Shit!
Damned!”
[…]

“It’s painful, don’t you know that? Of course, it’s not your life, just your job. Get the fuck!
Ok, it was a dark windy night. It was really chilly. Winter came earlier than other years. I was wearing a sweater and it wasn’t enough. I was kind of late to pick Rachel up, as always. Then I saw that silhouette, impressive, enormous big man. He was running to the kitchen when I got there. I got stuck. Not a movement. But I couldn’t hear anything. There was not a single sound, not even the floor. You know how much this type of floors crack. But no, he was making not a sound. And there I was, with my hand in the pocket, grabbing the front door keys. But I couldn’t move. I was terrified. He was like this kind of bouncers that make you shrink at the disco.
I tried to be brave, you know, and get into the house. I went upstairs, but I couldn’t hear a single sound. It was even more terrifying. Oh, man. There I was, going up the stairs only listening to my footsteps on the staircase. When I got to her room, I saw… Rachel. I… I rushed where she was. Blood. She was all covered in blood. I could only embrace her. My sweetie, she was… was d-… dead.”


What do you thing of the man's statement? Is he guilty or innocent? Why?