The Bloody Knife

Wow, look at this... En Garde!

The exuberant cry of the Little Lady sounded from behind me.

I chortled and whipped around pretending to pull an imaginary sword for an epic battle.

What the funk?!

I screeched in horror as the Little Lady poked enthusiastically at me with a dirty, green-handled knife.

It wasn't in the slightest bit imaginary.

Where the fuh-uh-uhrnk did you find that?!

My voice, already pitched in an octave that would cause erections in any nearby dogs rose up to a horrified squeak as I tried my very best not to say the F-word to my darling daughter.

It was over there under that bush?

The Little Lady looked abashed as if she had done something terribly wrong like pick up a random street knife and come at her Daddy with it.

Give.

I quickly took it from her and examined it. It was a mean-looking bastard with a long and thin blade. A blade typical of the kind that young gadabouts loved to stick into each others squidgy bits.

Worryingly, the blade had some muddy brown splotches on it as if it had recently sliced into Auntie Margaret's chocolate Ganache.

Bollocks, I had killed enough mice with a hammer to know exactly what I was looking at.

Give me a second, lass. I will give the police a quick call to come and get it.

I dialled the local number and navigated through 17 gabillion sub-menus before finally, the line clicked and a real live human picked up.

Police Scotland - How may I help you?

Asked Chirpy-Cheep-Cheep the call handler.

Hi, my daughter found a big jaggy knife under a bush just off the main street. It looks like it has blood on it. Could someone check it out?

Absolutely sir. Absolutely. Has your daughter told you how she found the knife?

Chirpy-Cheep-Cheep asked with no apparent recollection of me just explaining exactly how she found it.

Yes, it was under a bush behind the main street.

And you say it has blood on it? Are you sure it's blood?

I looked at the bloody knife. It literally looked like it had been used to slice a semi-congealed black pudding..
_{Sorry, I can't bring myself to say blood sausage ever since an unfortunate incident with an ex-girlfriend and an unexpected visit from the moon fairies whilst we were 'hiding the purple monkey'}

Yes, I am sure it is blood.

I said with the cold certainty of a Scandinavian smelling a Reindeer's foot.

Interesting. Interesting. Have you any idea who's blood it could be?

Probed Chirpy-Cheep-Cheep. Obviously fancying himself as a 21st century Sherlock Holmes.

What?! No, I have no idea.

I grated through clenched teeth. I was obviously dealing with a fucking buffoon and as everyone knows, the only thing I hate more than a buffoon was the venison shits.

Ok, interesting. Interesting. You say your daughter found the knife... Can you give me some detail behind that?

Said Chirpy-Cheep-Cheep as if speaking was just opening his mouth and letting random pointless words fall out.

She found it under a fucking bush.

Sir, please keep it civil...

Whatever.

I hung up.

As soon as I did a Whatsapp flashed onto my phone's screen. It was the Good Lady.

Hey, what's keeping you guys?

I grimaced and got my thumbs to work tapping out an answer.

Found a fucking knife. Police fucking useless, so bringing it home and will drop it off to the useless bastards later.

I hit send.

Her answer came back almost instantly.