Short story serise:- Murder Mystery

Nicholette Heflin was a famous journalist. She had written articles like no one had ever read before. She had beautifully layered blond hair that wavered swiftly as she walked. She was rich as was her husband George. He was a very famous actor. He was in one of America’s favourite daytime soaps called Faithless. They lived in a massive Californian mansion where they were about to host lunch. They had a very special guest coming called David Young, a well known detective. He had solved quite a few cases in his time; some that seemed unsolvable. Nicholette was doing an article about him and George thought it was only necessary that she get to know him so she would be able to put in the truth.

She never suggested that he came; she actually objected, but George was a very stubborn man. Nevertheless, she had to throw the best social gathering she could, so she ordered flowers, made her chef make the best lunch ever, had her cleaners clean the house from top to bottom, put out her best tablecloths and china and made sure that she invited other guests as well. She invited the local Reverend, Mrs. Peaboy, Ron and Sandra Green and Sir William. She had to invite Sir William since he was knighted by the queen of England and she thought that it would be a very good afternoon if he was there.

Everything was ready as the first guest arrived. It was the Reverend. He always came five minuets early. She opened the door and shook his hand. They were going to eat out in the garden, since it was so sunny.

“Hello Reverend. Please come into the garden.” She led him out the back and asked her maid to fetch him a drink. In no more than ten minuets, everyone had arrived, including David, and they all sat down as her maid collected everyone’s drinks from the kitchen. Pretty soon, lunch was served and they all were getting on rather well with the guest of honour, David.

“So David,” Nicholette began, “how was your travel down here?”

“Wonderful” he lied. He had actually felt uncomfortable in the tiny car he arrived in. He was fairly big with grey hair and a moustache. He had a nice grey suit on and new shoes he had only bought yesterday, as everyone could tell from how uncomfortable he walked.

“Where are you from?” asked Sir William, with his posh English accent.

“I’m from New York. Quite far from here.” They carried on talking till it was time for the guests to leave. They left early because Nicholette complained that she had a “rather bad headache” so everyone parted there ways. David had come with Mrs. Peaboy and once they were out of the house, she wondered whether he wanted to stay for the weekend at her house and he agreed gratefully.

As the day drew to an end, the maid was packing up the table as she heard a scream. It was from Mr. Heflin and she was immediately worried. She ran upstairs and into the bedroom. He was dead on the floor and the maid was all alone with him. She looked around and saw that Nicholette ran into the bedroom and stood behind her. Nicholette had been in the bathroom and saw the bloody massacre in the middle of the room. She screamed and then the staff all joined them in the room. The police were called and arrived in a few minuets. By this time, Nicholette was sitting in the sitting room with a cup of sugary tea. The sugar helped with the shock.

The police asked questions and they gave the honest answers and the maid only thought it helpful if she called the detective. David came to the house, just as surprised as Nicholette was when she saw him. He spoke to the police and Nicholette wasn’t happy that her maid had just asked a stranger to her house and snooping around for clues.

David went upstairs when the police were talking to Nicholette. He entered their bedroom and was looking around the crime scene. He was searching for clues; anything that would help with the investigation. He spotted that the window was open. Open quite widely. He went over to it as Nicholette stood in the doorway.

“I hope you asked to come up here Mr. Young. This is strictly off bounds.” David turned round and asked Nicholette to come to the window.

“Did you open this?” he asked, motioning to the window. She shook her head.

“No. The person who killed my husband must have opened it and jumped out.” David turned round to her and looked at her quizzically.

“How do you know your husband didn’t kill himself?” She looked at him before answering.

“I wouldn’t have thought my husband was suicidal. Especially since he didn’t like guns.” She walked out the room and David followed her with a grin on his face. Their little conversation was very important in him solving the case.

He decided he was going to speak to the maid since she was in the kitchen making him a drink.

“How are you feeling?” he asked her. She shook her head.

“Terrible. Would you like it if you found your employer dead?” David decided he was going to quiz her as well.

“Did you see anything upstairs; notice anything out of the ordinary?” She thought about her answer before she spoke.

“Yes, the window was open. Mr. Heflin never likes his window open. And I remember when I ran into the house I heard someone run but it stopped before I reached upstairs.” David looked surprise at what she had said, but she didn’t even realise she had said something that was crucial.

“What do you mean, “When I ran into the house”?”

“I was outside clearing away the lunch things.”

“So you don’t think the killer would have jumped out the window?”

“Of course not or else I would have heard him.” David remembered that as he took his drink out of the maid’s hand. After an hour, David and the police left. But before they were gone, David asked them to join him upstairs, in Nicholette’s bedroom. They walked over to the window.

“Tomorrow,” he asked, “could you dust this for finger prints? It will be very helpful in your investigation.” They nodded and then went home.

The next day, the police came back with forensics and went about the house. David joined Nicholette in the conservatory with a glass of pink lemonade.

“How are you?” he asked.

“Not too good. Just a little bit of a shock. I stayed over at my sisters last night.” He nodded then asked her the question he had been waiting to ask.

“You know, the maid was outside clearing away the lunch things. You believe that the “killer” jumped out of the window, wouldn’t the maid have seen him, or heard him?”

“Possibly. Why are you asking me this sir?” She wasn’t in the mood for any silly games, especially when it came to the death of her husband. She was torn apart when he died; she didn’t want to have to remember how she felt.

“You know as much as I do that your husband never liked his window open. Why was it open?”

“I don’t know.” She started to cry. “You should find the killer and ask them yourself.” Despite how hysterical Nicholette was, he still pressed on.

“Also, since the killer mustn’t have jumped out of the window, the killer must have been in the house…”

“What are you trying to suggest Mr. Young?”

He left it at that and then went over to the building that Nicholette worked at. It was tall with blond stone. He walked in and went over to where Nicholette’s office was. There were other women next to her office, all talking about the murder. David went over to them.

“I just can’t believe it” one of the women was saying.

“I know it’s so strange” another chimed in.

“Hey, do you think it has anything to do with his affair.” This was all that David wanted to hear. He spoke to the girls and explained that he was a detective. They told him that George was having an affair and they told Nicholette about it a day before he died.

David went back to Nicholette’s house and asked her if they could sit in the sitting room. Then, he spoke to her so tactlessly.

“What I think, Nicholette, it that you found out about George’s affair, you planned to kill him once I was gone, shot him, opened the window when the maid had ran inside so it looked like the murder jumped out of it, then ran into the bathroom so it looked like you had nothing to do with it.” She laughed at this.

“And where did I put the gun?”

“You should know.” She smiled and then stood up.

“So what if I killed him.” She paused. David had his hand in his pocket and pressed a button, but Nicholette never noticed. “I did kill him. I got the gun silenced, I shot him, I opened the window, I did all those things! But who cares? You have no evidence.” At that moment, David pulled out a tape recorder out of his pocket and then pressed a button that stopped it from recording. Then he replayed it and you heard everything that Nicholette had just said.

He left the house just as the police pulled up and he handed over the tape. They arrested Nicholette and that was the end of that.