Rat Burglars

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I arrived home to a three ringed circus of blue flashing lights and yellow plastic tape with black stripes and black writing. Men in police uniform and others in white coats moved purposefully into and out of my house. I was stopped by what I assumed was a plain clothes detective as I attempted to duck under the tape.

“I'm sorry ma'am, you can't come in here,” she said.

“Yes, I can because this is my house,” I answered. I don't know what I was thinking. I certainly wasn't thinking about what might lie ahead.

She looked at me quizzically.

“Are you Dr Jane Milton?” she asked.

I nodded, and she held up the tape to let me through.

“Then you had better come inside.”

Inside was a hive of activity. Clearly, there had been a break in. Drawers had been opened and tipped out on to the floor, the TV was missing, and there was glass scattered over the carpet where the china cabinet had been forced open. I looked down the hallway. I could see my housekeeper, Rosalie, lying on the kitchen floor.

“What's happened?” I asked, trying to keep my voice from shaking.

“I'm afraid there appears to have been a murder as well as a robbery, Dr Milton,” said the detective. “Your housekeeper is Rosalie McDermott?”

I swallowed hard and nodded.

“Could you confirm the identity of the body?”

Again I nodded. I was beginning to feel like a bobblehead.

She escorted me to the kitchen. There was Rosalie, face red and bloated, eyes bulbous, tongue lolling. A piece of orange rope hung limply around her neck, its surface pattern imprinted into the soft, bruised flesh of her neck.

At the kitchen table, a man was watching the footage from the security cameras on a laptop. I could clearly see three men wearing rat masks, entering the house through my bedroom window, then killing poor Rosalie before ransacking my possessions.

“Did you see that?” said the man to the detective. He backtracked to the beginning of the footage.

“See? They're wearing black clothes when they enter. They grab something from the washing basket on the bed, and by the time they get to the kitchen they ...”

I didn't hear what he said next as I could barely believe what I was seeing. It was bad enough that such a heinous crime was committed in my house. But what on earth possessed these monsters to dress up in my lingerie?

Stranglers in my nighties. Rat burglars. It was more than I could bear. The room began to spin, and I felt myself sink into oblivion.