House: Gryffindor
Position: HoH
Category: Drabble
Prompts: "To my [ ], I leave…", Frank Bryce
Word Count (excluding header): 491
Beta: Tigger
To my gardener, Frank Bruce, I leave the small cottage on the edge of the property.
"It's Bryce," Frank mumbled.
He was exhausted. Two officers had dragged him from his cottage early that morning and shoved him into an interrogation room. He'd been sedentary for so long that his injured leg was acting up; the pain was becoming unbearable.
The elder of the two cops said, "Mr. Bryce, you claim to have seen a young man with dark hair enter the Riddle house under the cloak of darkness. And yet no other person can corroborate your story."
The younger officer snapped, "Thomas Riddle's Will proves you had motive to murder them. Just confess already and we'll see if we can get the magistrate to go easy on you. You know that you're guilty. We know you're guilty. If you insist on dragging out this charade for much longer, I'll personally see to it that you're hanging from a noose within the month."
"I didn't do anything!" Frank exclaimed. "It's just like I said. There was a skinny, young man walking up the hill to the big house. I had a clear view of him from my cottage. Ask the cook. Or the maid! Someone else must have seen him!"
The older investigator sighed and rubbed his eyes. The long interrogation was wearing everyone out. "Nobody saw a thing. The maid and the cook both have alibis for the timeframe of the crime. The door was locked when the maid found the bodies this morning. You are the only person with a key to the house who had the opportunity. And I'll level with you, Frank, this bequest provides motive that just about confirms your guilt. Let me help you."
"Mr. Riddle already gave me the cottage last year, though. I have the letter tucked in with my important documents in an old biscuit tin on the top of the ice box," Frank explained.
The young cop sneered. "We'll be checking into that. If you ask me, this whole investigation is a waste of time. I don't know how you did it, but I know you killed them."
"How?" Frank asked. "What do you mean?"
"The manner of the Riddles' deaths is puzzling," the elder officer stated.
The younger man added, "Yeah. We don't know how you did it—yet. But we're going to find out. It's only a matter of time. I think it's time to let you stew by yourself for a few hours. Maybe your tongue will loosen up and we can be done with this case."
With a final glare from the youngster and a look of confused pity from the older officer, Frank was left alone in the interrogation room with only his aching leg for company.
'What will become of me?' he thought morosely. 'I know I saw that young man. But unless he's found, I'm going to die for a crime I didn't commit. Oh, God!'