Short Story #1

The Devil Herself

“Murdered! What happened? Who killed him? Where was he found? Who found him?” the questions just rolled off my tongue, and from the look on the officer’s face, I knew he did not have a clue to any of the answers.  This piece of news came to me from a frightened officer as I was getting out of my car for my morning shift, and shocking news does not normally come to me until I have had at least walked into the building and had my cup of coffee, so I knew that I was needed, and needed now. I was not surprised when he next said, “I don’t know what happened, but it is your job to find out what happened to Harold, and find out fast.”

I have been traveling in screaming cars for my entire career; going to a new crime scene each time.  It never occurred to me that I would ever have to drive up to the Chief’s mansion to figure out who brutally murdered him.  As I approached the gates of his never ending driveway, the officer who accompanied me had just finished briefing me on the whereabouts of the chief, and the people that I was going to have to scrutinize in order to configure the events of this murder.

“Oh boy,” my sigh seemed to provoke the inexperienced officer to ask me why I was sighing, and if it was any other circumstance I would have thought this one a fool, but I was sighing because the possible suspects, the people very close to the chief, were just standing outside the mansion indulging in a smoke or a drink while laughing and joking. “They all look guilty to me.  Not one of them looks like they have shed a single tear over the loss of the Chief!  How can they just stand over a dead body and laugh!” as I began explaining my earlier remark to the officer I became more enraged.  

At this point, I deeply regretted being one of the best detectives in the state, because now it is my job to find out my best friend’s killer.  The first 24 hours after a murder are the most crucial in finding evidence and identifying possible suspects, so now it was my job to interview the pompous family members just standing around like nothing happened.

Furiously, I grabbed the man closest to me and stormed through the familiar carved doors into the library.  I did not expect the man to just crumble in weakness, and oblige to my orders; he seemed smarter than that, almost too smart.  Living in his own filth, seeming to be wearing the same clothes for a week is the first thing I noticed about him, besides his oder.  Noticing his instability, I was careful to keep my rage elevated to the maximum in order to get as much information out of him as necessary; he seemed like the type to squeal on anyone.  

“Professor, where were you in the last 24 hours?” as the words came out I was practically shouting at him.  Before he answered, he promptly scooted his glasses from the tip of his nose, and quietly stated, “Well, sir, I was here, at Harry’s house, in this very room to be precise.”  The calmness in his voice made my anger even worse, so in return I asked harshly, “What happened when you last came in contact with Harold?”  Blinking his eyes behind his thick bifocals in a way that made him seem oblivious to the murder made me very suspicious of his behavior.  “Well, if I can remember correctly, he seemed quite agitated with me last night before bed.  He consistently scowled at me, claiming that I need to clean up my act.  Like most of our squabbles, he reminded me that I should be the one looking after him, not the other way around; then he just turned away and walked towards the kitchen...where Desirée was.”  The devious look on his face told me that he knew more than what he was letting on.  Desirée was someone that I was not familiar with, and I proceeded to ask more questions but was interrupted by a knock that echoed through the cathedral room.  “Speak of the Devil,” the professor whispered under his breath, using a tone that made me presume he was not fond of the mistress leaning in the doorway.

Wearing a provocative red dress that slitted up to the middle of her thigh was the Devil herself.  Her eyes gleamed towards my direction in a luring way, that for an instance, made me forget about the current circumstances that surrounded me. 

“My, my sir, what kind of stories has this professor been telling you?” Her voice sounded innocent, yet threatening towards the now shaking man.  She was holding what appeared to be video tapes behind her back, and my curiosity got to me.  “You can leave now professor, but don’t go far, I want to speak to Desirée now.”  Just like a mouse, he scurried out of the room with only a slight squeak that escaped his tight lips.

Slowly, seductively, she glided forward and slid on the top of the desk in front of me, crossing her legs over to one side.  I could smell the sweet perfume that emanated from her bare skin.  Like a cruel angel, she whispered, “I know what you want,” and placed the tapes in my hands.  I did not want to look away from her face, but the tapes felt like they were on burning in my hands.  The labels on them read, “SECURITY CAMERAS.”  I was baffled; I had no clue that the Chief had security cameras around his house; this changed everything.

“Now don’t think me a fool Captain, those are just the copies.  You know as well as I do what is on those tapes, and what importance they have.” I could feel my blood turn cold from her icy words; she knew what she was doing.  Circling her delicate fingers around the tops of my hands, chilling to the touch, her alluring voice continued, “I want to make a deal with you.  I will be a good girl and keep this secret of yours, only if I get what I want in return.”  Her eyes now where looking up at me, blinking ever so slowly, “Within the next 24 hours you will continue your ‘search’ for my Harold’s killer.  After that, you will release a statement declaring Patricia his murderer.  No one will ever doubt that the inheritor of millions did not kill him, leaving your tracks clean as a whistle.  It also does not help her that she was the only one, besides me, who had knowledge of these tapes, and everyone will assume that she hid them to protect herself and her assets.”  As she spoke her barbaric, yet ingenious plan, I had not figured out what she wants exactly.  Why was she helping me and not Harold?  “What do you want in return, as I am sure that is not all,” I stated in defeat.  Her eyes lit up with a certain victory in them, “Well, I presume the only reason why old Harry is dead is because someone wanted his job.” Her piercing green eyes burrowed into mine, “Since the new Chief has the power to tamper with Harold’s will, he may mistakably put down that Desirée Montella is to inherit his estate if anything happens to go wrong with Mrs. Patricia Golden.”  She had me cornered, I had no choice but to comply, and make sure she got precisely what she wanted.  I had to think of something fast, and my fury boiled in me as a spat out, “Why should I trust you? How do I know you will keep this a secret?  Why shouldn’t I turn you in?” I was getting very angry that I had been beaten, but my stubbornness kept me trying to salvage my dignity by finding a hole in her plan.  “You know what? That’s exactly what I am going to do!  I am going to turn you in right now!”   I was almost giddy with my new found plan.

I had not expected her to do what she did next.  She smiled her sly, yet gorgeous grin, as she leaned forward on the table, getting closer to me.  Her full lips were now mine, and she whispered, “No you won’t.”  Abruptly she got off the table and turned towards the door to head out of the library.  When she was at the doorway, in the same stance she was in when she entered the room, she turned and looked at me with those eyes of hers and laughed the laugh of the Devil.  She had me. She knew it.  She won.