I
stared down at the lifeless corpse. Blood spilling out of the gaping
holes in its side and head. The dress was the same as any other. It
was hard to tell if it was male or female. I didn't want to touch anyway.
I looked around at the innocent faces around me. Cleo with her snooty
grin and bright red hair and plump figure. Kas with his short sleet
black hair, ignoring any eyes that tried to catch his attention. And
then there was Twinkle. Yeah, that wasn't her real name, but everyone
called her that anyway. She slowly preened her long blonde hair as
if she was readying for a formal ball that would be held at any given
moment. I frowned at the three, and asked for an explanation. Each
spoke their own opinion of what happened, but nothing matched. Nothing
fit. I stared at the three and they stared back, not counting Kas,
of course. I then huffed out of the room, specifically telling them
to not touch the corpse that lay in the middle of the kitchen. They
just shrugged and started to chit-chat among themselves in the living
room. I headed outside.
I
put my hands in the pockets of my black trench coat, trying to ignore
the pack of cigarettes my body craved to taste. I had promised to quit.
Pulling out the pack, I reached for my lighter. Maybe next time. I
lit one up and then walked around the backyard. Always keeping an ear
on the house in case a fight broke out, or worse, some one leaving.
I had my suspects there, I did not need them leaving on me. Not yet,
anyway. Keeping an eye on the ground, I found rusted leaves. Just
the regular leaves that you would see from the autumn aged trees that
surrounded the yard. But there was also a nice clear spot just large
enough for the struggle. One that the trained eye might have trouble
seeing. Taking a quick puff, I ground it into the ground and then bent
over to look at the clearing. Strands of brown and blonde and red hair
littered the area. I guessed that the brown hair was from the victim,
and the other hair could wither be Cleo or Twinkle. Or both. I wasn't
so sure, but I'll find out. Pulling out a small plastic bag, I used
a pair of eyebrow tweezers and plucked the hair into the bag.
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Working
my way around the yard, I came to the greenhouse. In the wood I noticed
that there were scratch marks as if someone was held up or trying to
fight against whatever what was holding them back. Measuring the height
and the distance in the marks I jotted down what I knew in my little
black book. I couldn't guess who could have made the marks. The victim?
The murderer? It was Greek to me!
As
I turned towards the house, the unexpected caught my eye. Along with
the rusted leave, I saw dried drops of blood that contrasted and matched
the disarrayed leaves that scattered all over the lawn. Looking over
I could see more spots pop up all over! I shook my head. The murderer
was insane. He or she had tortured their victim with endless playfulness.
I could only imagine the horror. I shuddered at the insanity of it
all, and then headed in the house to confront the unscrupulous individuals
that were gathered in the living room.
From
what I could tell, the victim was first discovered hiding in the greenhouse.
I confirmed that the scratch marks were from the victim that had then
instinctively tried to get away by running out into the open field
of the yard. Once in the yard the victim was promptly caught, injured
enough so that he couldn't make any escape. He was then paraded around
the yard like some kind of carvel prize. The killer then tossed the
victim this way and that like a ball in a morbid game. Afterwards,
the suffering was ended with innumerable puncture wounds, the killing
blow being to the head. The fresh corpse was then dragged into the
kitchen and was left to be discovered by the next individual to venture
into the room. Looking around the living room, I confronted the six
blank eyes that looked back at me.
Pulling
out the bag of hair and reciting my notes from my little black book,
I questioned each with a close eye on their reactions. Cleo just smirked
and chirped her own response, protesting her innocence at such a dreadful
accusation. Kas said nothing at all. Pointing out that it was all foolishness
and beyond my skill for solving; also claiming his innocence at the
insistence of my ideas. I had guessed that he was innocent anyway.
His black hair wasn't in the bag. I then turned on Twinkle. She stopped
her preening and looked up at me with her bright blue eyes. Innocence
and guilt filled her dainty eyes. I knew I found my murderer. There
was a knock on the door, and my husband walked into the room. Looking
from me and my trench coat and black book, to the three silent suspects
and then down the hall at the limp victim on the kitchen floor. Shaking
his head, he walked in and gave me a kiss on the cheek.
"Playing
detective again, dear?" I just smiled at him, and kissed him back.
"They
do that kind of thing."
"Just
get rid of the rat, love."