A Deadly Rose

Tuesday night, and while the moon shined brightly amonst the starry sky, the leaves rustled along the cold, soft grass. A darkened figure crossed the lawn of a grand, old house, walking amongst the shadows, even though no one could see him in this light. He walked carefully up the patio steps, creeped up to the patio doors, and began to pick the lock. There was a silent click, he was in. The door silently swung open and he stepped inside, the floorboards creaking slightly under his weight. He began towards the living room where he had been told the victim should be at this time of night.

The door was slightly ajar and he could see the victim in their chair. Luckily they lived alone, there would be no commosion. The chair faced the television, which was on a soft volume, so he didn't have to worry about being seen or heard, if he acted quickly. He drew out a long knife, pale silver and gleaming and held it firmly as he walked closer. In one swift movement, he thrust the knife into the back of the chair.

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The next morning, and Detective Paula Rightburn rushed into her office, coffee in hand and late as usual.

She was in her mid twenties, about 5'7, with brown hair and deep green eyes. She had only just sat down when her partner, Detective Ben Sherdon, entered and placed a file on her desk. He had the right attitude for the job but he was a bit clumsy, sometimes with hilarious results.

"There's been a murder." he exclaimed as he watched Paula pick up the file and read its contents.

"Arnie Goulsberg," she read aloud,"Isn't he that posh millionaire that lives in the old Furrow Estate?"

"That's the one. Anyway, we've got people down there at the moment trying to find some evidence. They're not having much luck."

"Well let's go and help them shall we." She said, forcing her enthusiasm. She was tired, a party wasn't the best thing to have in the middle of the week, but she just had to put it aside and get on with her job. Like she always did.

When they arrived at the crime scene, they were ushered into the living room where Mr Goulsberg had died. They were met with a team of investigators and the back of a very badly stabbed chair.

They walked around so that they could get a proper look of what they were dealing with. The victim was covered in blood, due to the multiple stab wounds in his back and a rather nasty blow to the head.

An investigator walked up to Paula and said, "We only know that he was killed by his multiple stab wounds and that the blow to the head did not happen last night."

"Do you know how many stab wounds there are?"

"Well it's a bit hard to tell at the moment, they're quite close together, but from the markings on the back of the chair, I'd say about seventeen."

"Right," She replied quite shocked. She was fairly new to this and she had never seen so many stab wounds on a victim before. "How about the blow to the head? It's pretty nasty. You said it didn't happen when he was killed?"

"That's right. We found a doctor's note on the table just over there," he replied, pointing to a deep burgandy, wooden table. "It states that he went to hospital to check his head out after a nasty fall on his patio and was prescribed some antibiotics."

"How about the time of death?"

"It looks do me like he was killed around 10pm and 11pm. Though I won't know until I've done an autopsy."

Paula looked at the body more closely, scanning for anything to help her on the right course. Then she spotted it. It was quite big, she didn't know how she missed it. It was a single red rose, placed into the victim's hand.

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Back at her office, Paula went over the photographs of the scene and all the evidence. This was going to be a hard case to figure out. She looked at the close up of the body, focusing on the man's hand. What was with that flower? What did it mean?

Suddenly, she heard a loud bang of the door outside in the main room. It was Ben. She watched him through her glass pannelled wall, not wanting to miss what he'd do next. He saw her and waved but in that split second, he fell over a bin he didn't see in front of him and fell flat on his face. Paula couldn't help but laugh, he was so funny and he did it nearly everyday. She wondered why he was accepted into this line of work, he was so clumsy.

She noticed everyone else trying not to laugh, but it was a hard thing to do. Everyone of them was working on the case and when they saw her looking in their direction they hastenly got back to work.

Paula was about to do the same thing when the phone rang.

She picked it up and answered it.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Detective. It's Tom. We've found another murder." He was the cheif investigator she had spoken to at the Furrow Estate murder.

"What another one so soon!? Where?"

Tom gave her the address and she hurridly wrote it down.

"Thanks Tom. I'll be down there in a few minutes."

She put the phone down and walked out of her office.

"Ben let's go. We have another murder to look at." She watched him swerve in and out of the desks to get to the main doors, everyone thinking that he'd do something stupid but he didn't.

They arrived at the house and were once again shown the way to the crime scene. They walked into the kitchen where a beautiful woman lay on her back in a pool of blood, her eyes wide open.

She found Tom looking at the woman's injuries and asked,

"Do you know the cause of death?"

"Looks like multiple stab wounds to the chest, about seventeen I'd say. Just like the other murder."

"Hmmmmmm. Do you think it was the same knife?"

"I'm guessing it was, but I'll know more once I've done an autopsy."

"What time do you think she died?"

"I'm not sure as of yet but I would say sometime last night between the hours of 11pm and midnight."

"Okay. Let me know when you've found out." She looked at the body one last time before she left and found a single red rose glasped in the victim's hand. Then she remembered to say something else, "Do you know her name?" she asked.

"Yes, I found it on her passport on the table. Seems like she was just about to go somewhere. Her name's Jackie Blaxton"

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The main office was bustling with information about the case. They were making connections between Arnie Goulsberg and Jackie Blaxton and had dug up a lot of information about them.

Paula walked in, "Ok, what's everyone got?" she asked. The murderer needed to be caught quickly so that there wouldn't be anymore deaths.

A tall, dark haired man spoke up, "Well we've found a connection between the two and a third party."

"Okay, tell me." She said anxiously.

"We've checked phonecalls and emails and we've found out that Arnie and Jackie were having an affair. We also found out who Jackie was married to. Alex Blaxton."

"Right, bring him in for questioning, he's the best lead we've got."

Later in the interview room, Paula and Ben were interregating Mr Blaxton, with no success.

"Where were you between 10pm and 12am last night?" she asked.

"I was down at the pub." Replied Alex simply.

"What time did you get home?"

"About 1am."

"Do you have anybody who can prove that?"

"Well, I dunno I..."

"Just answer the question."

"Errrrrr, no comment." he said cheekily.

Damn, not this ploy thought Paula.

"Were you aware that your wife was having an affair with Arnie Goulsberg?"

"No comment."

"You had a happy marriage didn't you?"

"No comment."

"Mr Blaxton, did you ever hit your wife?"

"I don't see that that has any revelence to the case detective." replied Alex's solicitor.

"Did..." she was interupted by her boss who waved at her to come outside. He had been watching through the disguised glass very closely. She suspended the interview.

"Yes sir?" she asked when she got outside and had shut the door.

"This interview is getting nowhere. Either find something and press charges or release him. His solicitors are getting agitated. The last thing we need is press involvement."

"Yes sir." she replied and watched him walk away. She went back inside and restarted the interview.

"Did you know Mr Goulsberg?"

"No comment."

"Did you like him?"

"No comment." He replied calmly. He was getting slightly angry though.

"Did you kill your wife or Mr Goulsberg?"

"No..."

"Detective, either charge my client with your propostruous alligations or release him." His solicitor interrupted.

Paula could tell she wasn't getting anywhere and terminated the interview.

"You can go." she said disappointed as they walked out.

She held her head in her hands.

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Back in her office, she sat frustrated and annoyed with herself. Why didn't she push harder? She knew he was guilty.

It was 8pm, the end of a long day and she decided to go home. The lights were being shut off just as she was leaving save for this one guy who was still working in the video room. She went over to check on him and to see if he was going home soon.

The man saw her coming and paused the tape. "Ermmmmm detective, I was just about to show you this but it distracted me..."

"What is it?" she asked.

"It's the tape from the Furrow Manor living room sent just a few minutes ago."

He rewound it to the bit where it was of the most use to them. It showed Mr Goulsberg sitting in his chair watching the television when a figure came up behind him, drew a long, sparkling knife and stabbed him continuously through the chair. The man's face wasn't covered up and they could see it very clearly.

"Damn, if only it came sooner. I've just made the biggest mistake of my life."

The man was Alex Blaxton.

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A dozen police cars with armed men, along with Paula Rightburn, Ben Sherdon and their boss arrived at the Blaxton property. They hurried upto the door;

"Armed police open up!" No response, it was silent.

"Ok, take the door down." Bellowed their boss as he stepped aside.

Within minutes the door was broken and they hurried inside, armed police first.

"Mr.Blaxton!?" shouted Paula. Suddenly, they heard a clatter from upstairs. They looked at each other.

"I think he's in the bathroom." Suggested Paula quietly.

They wearily climbed the stairs and pushed open the bathroom door.

"That's our case gone." Said Ben disappointingly as they all looked to the floor. Mr Blaxton was lying there, his face covered in blood. He had a nasty blow to the head and he had been repeatedly stabbed in the chest, what looked like about seventen times. A single red rose lay in his right hand, but this time with a label. Paula bent down, it smelled of women's perfume, and read it aloud;

"Maybe you'll catch me next time Detectives... Love Rosie."