‘She stabbed herself.’
‘In the neck?’ DS Branigan leant over the body.
‘Yes.’
The man was sitting on the edge of the sofa, staring at the floor.
‘And her hands and arms?’
‘She slashed them.’
‘Before or after she stabbed her neck?’
‘I … I don’t know.’
‘She cut both hands but there’s barely any blood on the knife handle.’
The man stayed silent.
‘You were arguing?’
‘No.’
‘The neighbours heard you.’
‘She was upset. Suicidal.’
‘And you let her get a knife?’
‘I …’
‘You stabbed her. The hands and arms are defensive wounds.’
‘No.’
‘That wasn’t a question.’
A drabble is a story of exactly 100 words.
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