NOPE NOT THE POLICE

The Hart estate was agog with activities.

The media and onlookers stood outside the barricade put up by the police, cranning their necks to get a view of what was happening in the estate.

The air smelled like toast wood.

There were police officers stationed at various points around the estate.

With the media, it was a fucking circus. Vans were parked haphazardly around the estate. Each news station tried to get an inside scoop of the events occuring in the mansion but we're not allowed to. They were allocated a spot outside the yellow tape were each van stood with all their gear. Each channel had a reporter in front of a camera narrating lord knows what to their viewers.

As he drove in, Flint saw but couldn't care less.

Flint didn't give a damn as he pushed his way through with the help of an officer who appeared to be a green horn to get to the main building.

The moment he was through the Hart gates, he was surrounded by a mini mob made of cameras and reporters.

They shoved their mics in his face and their cameras in his path.

"Inspector any leads yet?" came one voice

"why were you assigned to the case" came another

Each was firing a barrage of questions.

"inspector what's your take on the assassination" a brunette haired woman in a black suit and skirt asked suddenly.

He stopped in his tracks and faced the woman.

"it is unclear at the moment the nature of today's events. At this point I advise you to avoid spreading baseless rumors. You're from channel 9 yes? What's your name again?" he asked in a no nonsense manner.

"I will get in touch with your superiors tomorrow" he said and continued on his path to the main building with a visible reduction in the audacity with which the reporters fired questions.

For inspector Kennedy Flint, it was a three minute drive from his residence to the Hart estate.

He was just getting out of bed when he got the call.

He had hurriedly thrown off the covers and jumped out of bed.

It was officially a high profile case. He go the call directly from the commissioner himself.

The new minister and his household had been murdered.

He didn't eat breakfast or have his usual morning cup of coffee.

When he arrived at the scene, it was still intact.

Two bodies, wrapped in the center rug, blood on the tiles, rug utterly soaked through, servant quarters full of dead bodies, a burnt desecrated land surrounding the property which from the looks of it, had been recently torched.

His partner had already arrived and stood by while the coroner's investigator took shots.

They exchanged quiet "Heys".

Doyle's eyes looked sharp and alert. His hair looked hurriedly slipped down.

As if a comb never came close to it's tip this morning.

His clothes looked like he had slept in them, his complexion seemed to match the gray sky.

Flint studied the scene from a distance, stepping as far back as he could, being careful not to touch the walls or any other thing for that matter as he hadn't gloved up.

"How long have you been here" Flint asked.

"Just arrived"

"hmmm" Flint acknowledged.

The CI heard his voice and turned to glance at him.

She was tall and pretty, dark complexioned, hair cut short.

She wore a stripped jumpsuit with a jacket and she took her time with the camera.

Leaning over, crouching, bending, kneeling in order to capture the moment from every angle.

"I'm almost done... just few minutes and I head out back to get a few shots of the burnt area"

"sure...take your time"Flint muttered.

The chief had stressed the importance of the entire case. The murder of a newly elected minister.

He was already feeling pressure though the investigation just started.

After the CI was done, she packed her gear.

The forensic team were still busy, but they knew not to get in each other's way.

He came closer and studied the bodies.

Minister Adam had a gunshot wound in the middle of his head, and no exit hole, meaning the bullet was still lodged in his skull.

His designer pants were soaked through with blood and his eyes were still open. Same thing as his wife.

Only in her own case, her blood was mixed with urine.

Flint gloved up and passed his hands over their face to get their lids close.

He found their empty staring quite unsettling.

Rigor mortis was beginning to set in.

He studied the walls.

There were no bullet marks. Apparently, the assassin knew his mission and carried it out obviously stunningly well.

He jotted some observations down on his pocket notepad, then he turned to his partner.

"what's your take"

"it's obviously an assassination" Doyle said.

"I'm thinking that too, but why.... Is it on purpose? He just got elected and the bastards didn't even let the paper work get cold"

"it could be political"

"I'm not eliminating any possibilities"

The CI returned to the living room.

"It's a desert out back. The fuckers made sure the entire area was toast" she said.

"what i can't figure out is why....why burn the bloody backyard and leave the main house almost as if they wanted us to find it"

"I'll be heading back to the morgue" she said turning to leave.

"a pleasure miss...." Flint said, squinting his eyes to read her name tag.

"Anbar Hawkins" she said offering her hand.

Flint took it and watched her go.

The moment she was out the door, he turned and headed to the servant quarters with his partner in tow.

The moment he opened each door, his eyes took in the horror.

Each room had at least one dead person in it.

There were 12 rooms in total.

It was a bloody massacre.

Flint hurried out the main door and emptied his guts.

Even children were not spared.

"where are the Hart kids" Flint asked suddenly.

"They are not here"

"what do you mean"

"They seem to have vanished"

"what?"

"we haven't found any bodies and no leads" Doyle replied.

Flint ran his hands through his hair. Then he placed his hands on his waist and began pacing back and forth.

He smelled trouble.

"we searched the entire estate Flint we found nothing"

"Nothing? search again"

"what? we were thorough. Twice. Even out back. Nothing."

Flint turned without a word and headed in the direction of the parched land.

Doyle followed suit. Immediately he got to the back gates, he lifted the yellow tape and passed under then he stood hands akimbo for a moment then he began to follow the footpath created by the officers who had passed through the first time.

They walked for a long time then they found a cluster of rocks.

"see...it's a dead end" Doyle said grimly.

Flint just eyed him.

He headed towards clearing between the growth and the first rock then he stopped. He squatted as if to sniff the ground then walked forward still squatting.

He found some footprint s after a closer examination of the area.

He followed it, dead end. It lead to the end of the cluster with rough growth at the side.

He got up and walked back to where be began tracing the footprint he followed. Then he picked another one and followed. same dead end.

He kept going back and forth, finding and tracing, finding and tracing then he found one small print. it looked different from the other ones he had been tracing. It was hardly noticable as a larger print had already done one on it half way.

He squatted again and looked closer.

At least now, he had an idea what to look for as he was no longer chasing shadows.

Doyle just watched. He saw it as a waste of time as he had personally checked the area along with some officers.

He went back to the beginning of the clearing and began to inspect each large footprint till he found what he wanted.

Then he began to trace again. This time he found shrubbery. He got pissed.

He forgot himself and momentarily lost it. He angrily kicked up dirt with the tip of his shoes.

The sand he kicked landed on the shrubbery and it bent inwards. He stopped and eyed it then he kicked up more sand to the portion. It bent inwards more and became flat. There was a little hole behind it that opened up into empty air.

"You need to see this" he called to Doyle.

"see wh..." he started to say but paused midway and whistled.

"get someone who's small enough to crawl through" he said to Doyle as he got up and dusted his hands.

"who have we got" Flint asked

"Mite's easy to crawl through... small enough" Doyle replied.

"mite ... really?" Flint asked with humor in his eyes.

"It's a nickname" Doyle said

"Then get him down here"

Doyle spoke into his comm device and in few minutes, Paul Trent also known as mite appeared.

Flint wasted no time.

"Think you can squeeze through that? Flint asked pointing in the direction of the cave entrance"

"sure thing"

Mite crawled into the cave and landed on his palms.

"what do you see" Flint asked.

"They were here....the kids..." Mite replied.

"How can you tell"

"There's energy bar wrappers and a riding boot.. just one of a pair I can't find the one for the right foot and there's an opening behind"

"I can see that much from here" Flint replied.

"where does it lead to" asked Doyle

"Nothing. there's a ravine below they might have fallen in"

"No one asked you to jump into conclusions" Flint stated grimly.

"Can you come out now?"

"nope...can't get out on my own.. entrance is a bit steep"

"stay put" Flint said and left Doyle behind as he jogged his way back to the mansion.

He placed a call to the Forensic team requiring them to send, In his own words,

"someone skinny who knows his job down to the Hart"

He grabbed a rope from the fire service men and headed back to the cave.

He used it to pull mite out.

it took an hour to find a person fitting the description Flint required and by then, the sun was past the middle of the sky.

By the time the Forensic team were through, the area was sectioned off using the infamous yellow tape and a conclusion was reached.

They couldn't have come out of the cave without help and the land surrounding the property was toast, entrance to the cave, covered in soot.

Meaning the Hart kids were at the bottom of the ravine.

A search party was formed by evening consisting of several experienced divers and swimmers.

The media of course did not let the slice of pie pass them by.

They hurriedly switched to the site of course with their gear to get first hand scoop.

They searched until nightfall and late into the evening but found nothing but then, Flint was on his 10th cup of coffee.

He was a bunch of nerves.

It was 9pm when the search party packed up and one after the other, left the area.

"I don't think there's anything or anyone at the bottom of that thing" Doyle said grimly.

"Do you always have to be pessimistic" Flint said eyeing him.

"the search continues tomorrow Flint go home and take a nap you look terrible" Doyle said eyeing him.

Flint stood up from the makeshift seat and trudged his way along the bank. He hadn't gotten far when he turned back suddenly and headed in the direction of the police van parked close by.

He emerged seconds later with his phone and his jacket.

Doyle stood watching him go on his way, saw him exchange a few words with the men assigned to the area for the night on his way through the barricade they put up, then he turned to make a call.