Murder in the Mansion Part I
The door squeaked as it opened slowly. The floorboards creaked, and General Clive Ormiston woke. There was someone in his mansion. The sound came closer until he could hear the intruder breathing. He was so close now, just around the corner. He slowly drew his dagger that he always kept with him and prepared for the action to begin. The intruders foot appeared around the corner. He struck with all his strength. The dagger came flashing down towards the man’s head, but he just managed to dodge it. Clive struck again his dagger glinting as his jabbed at his opponent, but his enemy was faster. He grabbed Clive’s dagger hand and slammed it up against the wall making him lose his grip on the dagger then just as quickly as he had disarmed Clive, he struck him in the jaw. Clive’s head jerked back, and he fell against the wall. Thoughts started racing through his head, all his life he had been training for battle and now he had been disarmed in a matter of seconds and smashed against the wall. Fear rose in him as his enemy’s shadow fell over him.
An alarm clock beeped. It was 7am. There was a creak as detective Anders Parker rolled out of bed. He got dressed, had a quick breakfast and headed out for work. Usually he would drive himself there but today he decided to catch a bus. The bus was crowded and full of excited chatter about a murder. They said that someone had been brutally murdered in his own home. He arrived at work and was greeted by his clerk Gertrude who handed him some files and a copy of the newspaper.
“General Clive Ormiston was found murdered in his home about an hour ago by the local postman. He said he had found the door open and had walked in to see if anything bad had happened. As soon as he found the body, he called the police. Some of our men are already on the scene.” Gertrude informed him. The detective readied himself with some necessary forensic tools and then walked straight out of the police station. He got into the police car and drove away.
Half an hour later he had turned up at the crime scene. There was bunting around the house and a crowd was gathering, chatting excitedly. Anders stepped into the room and was greeted by a majestic staircase. He climbed the stairs purposefully and entered a highly furnished room. There was an open cupboard with bloodstains on the inside. Close to it, on the floor the dead body was bruised, cut and had limbs that had been twisted into oblique angles. Anders strode to Clive’s side and examined the stab marks in his chest. He noticed that there was a massive bruise on Clive’s jaw, where it looked like he had been walloped. He quickly scanned the room for a weapon that could have made the marks. There didn’t appear to be any such blades. A couple of long strides took him to the kitchen where he examined the set of knives. There were no blood stains on the knives and no footprints on the floor either. Anders scouted the rest of the room seeing no major clues of how the assassin got in and out. Somehow, he had gotten in and then out without leaving any clues. There were no fingerprints on anything. The only clues they had is that the lock had picked, and that nothing had been stolen. It was not a robbery, so it must have been a paid killer or someone who thought that he had been wronged by Clive. Anders was heading towards Clive’s office when he saw a mark on the wall where it was obvious that someone had been smashed against it. He touched his fingers to it and felt the sticky texture of blood. It was obvious that there had been a fight here, but he could learn nothing else from the scene so he kept walking. He arrived at Clive’s office and entered without delay. He instantly noticed some files on Clive’s desk and went to study them. They were about some air strikes that were going to be launched on ISIS in Iraq. He opened the laptop on the desk and looked through it. He opened the security cameras program and checked the footage. It seemed all clear until the very end where he saw a figure passing. He was dressed in black and was wearing a unique turban around his head. He had bare feet and long flowing pants that made it hard to notice him in the dark. The intruder was wearing a curved dagger at his belt, obviously native to desert nomads in Iraq. Anders suddenly realised that it must be an assassin from ISIS that had come to stamp out the major powers in the Air Force that had been organising the strikes. This had been happening quite a lot recently and he had always been able to spot the mistake which each killer had made. He had put many terrorists behind bars, obviously this one had learned from his comrades’ mistakes.
“Erik, go back to the police station and monitor the security cameras, especially in air ports. He could be trying to leave the country. Also, deploy the agents in strategic locations where he is likely to venture.” Anders instructed.
“Yes, sir!” Erik replied. He rushed off ordering some officers to follow him. Anders walked back into the room where Clive had been killed. He examined the stab marks again, realising that they had been made by an English knife that wasn’t curved whereas the mysterious man was wearing a curved knife at his hip. The mysterious man must have hidden the knife in the closest possible location. He walked to the mark on the wall and searched the near areas. It took a while, but he finally found it. It was under Clive’s bed, it had obviously been hidden hastily. Anders bagged the dagger to take back to the lab. Anders walked out of the house and drove back to the police station in his police car.
The police station was hectic, obviously they had found something of value.
“What happened?” Anders asked curiously.
“Our men have a lead. They have found the man at an Air force officers’ mansion. This man was very important but is dead now. A team has been sent to bring the killer. back alive.” Gertrude hurriedly told him.
“I will wait in the interrogation room, bring him in when he arrives.” Anders told her as he walked away.
It was about 10 minutes before the doors burst open and a struggling, beaten up figure slowly got dragged in. His knife had been confiscated and he had been checked for any other type of weapon.
“Please sit.” Anders instructed, indicating the spare chair. He sipped his cold tea and looked the man in the eyes. The man started shouting in Arabic. He was forced into his seat by an officer and had his belongings scattered along the table in front of him.
“Do you speak English?” Anders asked. The man stopped shouting and looked Anders in the eyes. “Do you speak English?” Anders tried again. But again, there was no answer. “Start talking or I will kill you!” Anders said fiercely. It seemed that the man had just learned English in a matter of seconds because he instantly started talking about his plans. “Steady on.” Anders encouraged. The man started speaking slower and more clearly. Suddenly there was a beeping sound coming from his phone. Anders checked it. There was an incoming text from unknown number. It read, YOUR NEXT TARGET IS ANDERS PARKER.