A Telltale Murder Mystery

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  • edited July 2013
    3.-The-Cat-From-Hell.png

    Just ask Poindexter here.
  • edited July 2013
    Part 2


    The guests all stood in the hallway outside the guest bedroom, where a bloodstained corpse sat in a rocking chair. Marsden was examining the slash, while Guru stood in the corner taking notes.

    “Well, Doc,” Guru said, not looking up from his notepad. “What do you think?”

    “The cut was made by a very thick blade. Look at how it rippled the skin when the cut was made. I would say the weapon was either a steak knife or a breadknife.”

    “But what about the gun?” Fawful said, having been standing in a corner of the room, arms folded. “If the killer still had the gun, why didn’t he just shoot him?”

    Marsden stood from his crouched position and rubbed fog off his glasses. “A knife is more precise and quiet. A gun is loud and attracts too much attention.”

    “Wait, a minute, then,” Fawful said. “Could there be someone else in the house?”

    “No,” Guru said. “I believe that whoever iced this man was one of the people sitting at the dining room table. Wait a minute… empty your pockets. Both of you.”

    They did so. Nothing. Guru walked outside into the hallway and asked everyone to either empty their pockets or their purses. No pistol.

    “Well, that’s great.” Guru sighed. “The killer ditched the gun.”

    Fawful and Marsden came out into the hallway.

    “Who discovered the body?” Morris said.

    “We all did,” Coolsome said, wiping sweat from his brow.

    “Well, then,” Morris said. “I guess that makes one of you a murderer.”

    Marsden stepped forward. “Do not presume that you are not under suspicion, too, Morris. Daishi said that we have all been blackmailed. That gives all of us a reason to kill.”

    “Even you.” Johnro said.

    “What has happened in my life is none of your business.”

    “It is if it could be motive for murder,” Fawful said.

    “As a matter of fact,” Guru said. “We should all come clean. But first, I’m going to call the police.”

    “Why do the police need to get involved?” Avistew asked.

    “Dammit, people,” Guru said, “Daishi is dead and one of us killed him! Of course I’m bringing the police in on this!”

    Guru disappeared downstairs. All eyes turned to Marsden.

    “Well?” Morris asked.

    “Go to Hell, all of you. I’m not saying a thing.”

    An hour later, the guests had all taken their seats in the bar room. Guru sat in a corner armchair, a cigar smoldering between his index and middle finger. Marsden and his wife sat on the couch with their heads on each other’s shoulders while Morris sat beside them, having a beer and a cigarette. Finally, Fawful stood.

    “Okay, lets get our facts straight. We were all invited here by a man who we did not know nor have ever heard of, and this man told us that all of us were being blackmailed by someone in the dining room. The lights go out, and someone fires a pistol, presumably at him. He bolts out the door, leaving all of us alone in a dark room until the lights go back on. We search for him, and we find him dead in a bedroom armchair.”

    Guru drew from his cigar. “Playing amateur, are we, Fawful?”

    “Absolutely not. I’m no cop. I’m just trying to get a hold of the situation. Also, something puzzles me. Why not run for the hills while he had the chance after someone tried to kill him? Why head for a guest bedroom?”

    “There was probably something in there,” Coolsome said. “Something he was hiding and needed to get.”

    Fawful turned to Guru, who seemed to have not been paying attention to anything just said. “Did you look in any of his pockets?”

    “No,” Guru said. “And besides, no one touches the body until an autopsy.”

    “Autopsy?!” Fawful cried. “The man had his throat cut, looking at his innards won’t do any good! We need to see if there is any evidence on him.” Fawful turned, starting to walk away.

    “Don’t you touch that body, Fawful,” Guru said. “This is a murder investigation, and if you tamper with anything that could be evidence, I’ll cuff you without hesitation.”

    “Well, then, shouldn’t we be searching for the gun? It could have fingerprints on the handle, or the casings, anything.”
    “Fine,” Guru said. “All the men, go in groups of two and search the house. The women may stay here.”

    “Wait a minute,” Coolsome said. “Why rule out the women? Were all suspects, that should include them, too.”

    “Women don’t use guns,” Guru said. “They prefer poison. Besides, they’re delicate little hands probably couldn’t even be able to pull a hair trigger.”

    “That’s pretty ignorant of you,” Morris said.

    “Well, lets get going.”

    Fawful and Morris walked through the dimly lit hallways into the dining room. As Fawful began to examine under the large oak dining table, Morris walked over to the man surrounding cabinets and began to dig around in the empty drawers and cupboards. Suddenly, Morris turned.

    “Something troubles me, Fawful.”

    “What is that, Albert?” Fawful did not look out from under the table.

    “Will Daishi be the only one who died tonight?”

    Fawful paused, then came up from his position and leaned on the table.

    “What do you mean?”

    “I mean, why doesn’t the killer stop there? What’s keeping him or her from killing the whole lot of us? Eventually, the police will arrive and find out why Daishi brought us here, and therefore all that blackmail money will stop coming. Also, what if someone here by chance finds out who he is before anyone else? That person will likely be a dead man walking.”

    If someone was to throw back the heavy doors leading to the dining room, one who come to be in the grand hall, with a grand staircase, complete with a grandfather clock, painting a ghostly picture that was somewhat reminiscent of the Titanic. If you were to follow the staircase to the West wing, you would come to find four doors. The second door on the right was the door to the guest bedroom. Inside again stood Marsden and Guru, searching every nook and cranny for any little thing that could be a clue. Daishi’s corpse still sat where they had left it earlier.

    “You find anything yet?” Guru was digging around in the closet, pushing aside coats and pairs of pants, not caring to go through the pockets.

    “Not a thing.” Marsden, like Morris down in the dining room, was digging through drawers after looking under the bed. “You know, something troubles me, Guru.”

    “Yeah? What?”

    “I can’t help but feel that Fawful was right. About that we should examine Daishi’s body a bit more thoroughly.”

    “I’m telling you, Marsden, no one touches the stiff. I’m not even touching it.” Guru turned. “Is that clear?”

    Marsden’s face went pale. “Guru…” he said. “Your shirt.”

    Guru looked confused at first, but then turned his head downwards to see what Marsden was talking about. He hadn’t remembered feeling at all wet, but the feeling came quick when he saw the dark red stain on his dress shirt. He turned and began throwing back jacket after jacket before finally stopping on one with a curiously dark stain. He reached into his breast pocket to remove his handkerchief, and using it to cover his hand, he reached into the side pocket. Marsden gasped as he saw Guru slowly pulling out a bloodstained knife from the pocket.

    Back in the bar room, Jennifer and Avistew sat on the couch while Avistew held a shaking Jennifer’s hand.

    “We’re going to die. We’ve all done wrong, and know we will pay for it.” Her eyes leaked and her nose stuffed as she drove out tears, which she wiped away quickly so she didn’t smear her makeup.

    “Don’t be silly, child.” Avistew said with a sympathetic tone. “It’ll be alright, you’ll see. The police will be here soon, and by the end of the night we’ll all be safe in our beds.”

    The men returned five minutes later. Guru carefully placed the knife down on the coffee table and resumed his former position in a corner armchair. Beside him, on a small table, sat a bottle of brandy and a glass. He took the bottle and poured himself a drink, but did not drink. Fawful had un-tucked his dress shirt and lit himself a cigarette, taking his position in the recliner opposite the fireplace. Coolsome stood against the arch that led into the grand hall, scratching his scraggly beard. Johnro took his position beside his wife, reached into his pocket, and pulled out a bottle of eye-drops, which he then began to apply. Morris sat on a stool beside the firewood and pulled his pipe and began to slowly smoke, rubbing his eyeglasses with a kerchief in between puffs. Marsden sat beside his wife, still shaken and was now leaning against him for comfort, which he provided through a hug.

    “Why leave the weapon behind?” Fawful said.

    Guru placed his glass back down on the table. “When we found the steel, the blood was soaking through the jacket which it had been left in. Either way it went, we would have either found the knife on the person or the blood would have soaked through his or her clothes. Makes perfect sense to leave it behind.”

    “Did you check it for fingerprints?”

    “Yeah, I did. Nothing, clean as a whistle.”

    At that point, Avistew stood up and began to head for the hall.

    “Where are you going, Mrs. Johnro?” Said Coolsome.

    “I’m going to fetch the radio. It is so dreary in here.” She vanished into the hallway. Four minutes later, she returned with a radio under one arm, plugged it into an outlet, and placed it upon the coffee table. She sat back down in her spot and flipped the switch. Everyone gathered around (except Guru) to hear the radio as she flipped through the stations.

    “…osebud Frozen Peas, full of country goodness and green pe… surprise bu… Al-drich! (pause) Coming, mother!... olonel Mustard in th… ot Dis… later tonight, on Warp TV…”

    Everyone’s head turned at the sudden sound of strong coughing. Guru was beginning to double over in his chair, and he looked about ready to throw up. His drink had spilled over the floor, and he was clutching at his stomach. Marsden ran over to try to assist him, but was too late to see the foam beginning to pour from his mouth. Mrs. Marsden screamed again.

    “What’s happening?” Fawful cried. “What’s happening to him?”

    “He’s been poisoned!”

    Guru shuddered, and then, he was still.

    To Be Continued...
  • edited July 2013
    Well?
  • edited July 2013
    If I am to die next, I shall take it with quiet grace and dignity.


    [turns to leave]

    [turns back and rushes at NoName]

    You son of a bitch bastard I'll get you if I die! I'm too young! Momma! MOMMMAAAA!!!

    [I am restrained]

    NoName: Quiet grace and dignity, huh!
  • edited July 2013
    I liked it. There was only one thing that removed me from the atmosphere and it was right at the beginning.

    "All the women were crying in fear".

    That one line(besides sounding sexist, which later broke the forth wall unintentionally? by commenting on another character's views), just sounded a bit clunky, generic and didn't provide any real visual. It just felt more like it was a side note to answer "so what were other characters doing?" rather than set the mood.

    All in all, I'm really liking it so far and look forward to the next part. Just adding a little of my own constructive criticism. Make of it what you will. :D

    If the sexism was intended as a foreshadowing commentary(which would be genius by the way), it just could have been slid into the story a little more inconspicuously.

    If it was on purpose, kudos, if not, your subconscious is golden. Some of the best attributes of stories weren't on purpose. The best and worst part so far. ;)
  • edited July 2013
    Nobody had activated carbon on them? Sloppy!
  • edited July 2013
    Yeah. To be honest, I was in a bit of a hurry to finish this up, so I just started throwing shit out. It’s gone, now.
  • edited July 2013
    Noname215 wrote: »
    Yeah. To be honest, I was in a bit of a hurry to finish this up, so I just started throwing shit out. It’s gone, now.

    Honestly, if it was slipped in worded a bit better, flowing with the previous sentence, that kind of pre-emptive commentary is great in stories. Any story which you can gain some perspective or general insight upon a second read through, will make a fan, a die hard fan.

    That subtle depth makes a good writer, a great writer. On purpose or not, while it removed me at the moment, I couldn't help feel that it was purposeful when I read further.

    Just something to keep in mind if you plan to make a career of writing. The instincts were right there in my opinion.
  • edited July 2013
    Nice work, Noname. I'm intrigued so far.
  • edited July 2013
    Nobody had activated carbon on them? Sloppy!

    Given the fact that the recommended dosing of activated carbon in treating of acute poisoning is 1 gram per kilogram of body mass, they would need to carry around at least 50 grams to treat an adult man. Not to mention the required carthatic to prevent the carbon from staying inside for too long.

    And have you ever tried to administer 50 grams of pulverised coal to someone already showing respiratory symptoms?

    Also, taking into account that the poison must already have been in his system to trigger the mentioned symptoms and worked so quickly, I doubt that the activated carbon would have had any effect.

    It wasn't sloppy at all. It spared him the torturous taking of large amounds of useless medicine.
  • edited July 2013
    I really need to invest in some facetiousness tags... XD

    And, of course, if the poison was a metal (like arsenic or something) then it wouldn't have worked anyways.
  • edited July 2013
    I really need to invest in some facetiousness tags... XD

    I'd totally buy some from you.

    And I think activated carbon might actually bind arsenic to some extent.
  • edited July 2013
    I'm not dead yet! This pleases me.

    Great second part. Eagerly awaiting the third.
  • edited July 2013
    Also, I apparently own a TV station. Perhaps it is I who is orchestrating this behind the scenes, so that my intrepid reporters can swing in and get the exclusive on all this dirt! Ratings will go through the roof! Why else would a TV station advertise on a radio station?
  • edited July 2013
    Part 3 coming in August.
  • edited July 2013
    Iryon wrote: »
    I'd totally buy some from you.

    And I think activated carbon might actually bind arsenic to some extent.

    According to Wikipedia, arsenic is listed as one of the things it doesn't bind well to. It might possibly bind a little, but at fifty grams for good binding, I'd hate to see how much you'd have to ingest for poor binding.
  • JenniferJennifer Moderator
    edited July 2013
    I really liked this chapter. I like how you snuck more Orson Welles in there (by way of the parody on The Critic no less ;)). And a Sam & Max reference too, for good measure. Can't beat that. :D
  • edited July 2013
    Rosebud Frozen Peas, full of country goodness and green penis. Wait, no, that’s not right. I quit. Just a handful for the road.
  • edited July 2013
    Noname215 wrote: »
    Rosebud Frozen Peas, full of country goodness and green peaness. Wait, that's terrible. I quit... Just a handful for the road...Oh, what luck! There's a french fry stuck in my beard!

    Fix'd that fer ya.
  • edited July 2013
    Fix'd that fer ya.

    180px-Welles.jpg
  • JenniferJennifer Moderator
    edited July 2013
    Noname215 wrote: »
    Fix'd that fer ya.
    180px-Welles.jpg
    You people are pests!
  • edited July 2013
    Oh, God, this running gag is relentless.
  • edited July 2013
    Not even half as relentless as Orson Welles' hunger for more butter.
  • edited July 2013
    Hahahaha!
  • edited July 2013
    So far so good. We are getting somewhere here. :)
  • edited July 2013
    We haven't gotten anywhere until Orson Welles gets his ham sandwich.
  • edited July 2013
    We haven't gotten anywhere until Orson Welles gets his ham sandwich.

    That's the REAL mystery here.
  • edited July 2013
    No amount of money is worth this shit.
  • edited July 2013
    The first step to success is to get people talking. Well, we're talking :p
  • edited July 2013
    I swear, if I ever decide to write TMM 2, I’m continuing the running gag.

    Also, in my mind, these are what the characters look like. Warning, there are some slight spoilers.

    Mortis: John Watson
    Fawful: The Riddler from Arkham City
    Guru: Orson Welles from Touch of Evil (that fucking running gag continues)
    Johro: Tim Curry
    Avistew: Madeline Kahn
    Marsden: Jeremy Brett
    DAISHI: Spencer Tracy with a monocle
    Jennifer: Bette Davis
    Coolsome: Errol Flynn
    Noname: James Cagney in a trench coat
    Leplaya: Humphrey Bogart with a stash
    Chyron: Clive Owen
    St_Eddie: Mickey Rooney with a fat cigar
    Rather Dashing: DAISHI
  • edited July 2013
    I hereby petition that Ryan be renamed RyanNumber2Gamer. It's hilarious for all the right reasons.

    If I remember it right, I think it was coolsome who was Number 2.
  • edited July 2013
    The amazing thing about that is that Guru can do a pretty wicked Orson Welles impression.
  • edited July 2013
    I’m thinking that if I was to do a sequel, it would either be set on a tropical island or at a ski resort.
  • edited July 2013
    If its set on a Ski resort you can end it with an epic Ski chase...
  • edited July 2013
    Noname215 wrote: »
    I’m thinking that if I was to do a sequel, it would either be set on a tropical island or at a ski resort.

    No resort would be complete without Paul Lynde!

    zYr.jpg
    Oh yes! Oh cabana boy! Bring me a sex on the beach!
  • edited July 2013
    Maybe it should be Club Med.

    http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IXmjXTLLXZs
  • JenniferJennifer Moderator
    edited July 2013
    No resort would be complete without Paul Lynde!

    zYr.jpg
    Oh yes! Oh cabana boy! Bring me a sex on the beach!
    Circle gets the square!
  • edited July 2013
    Noname215 wrote: »
    I swear, if I ever decide to write TMM 2, I’m continuing the running gag.

    Also, in my mind, these are what the characters look like. Warning, there are some slight spoilers.

    Mortis: John Watson
    Fawful: The Riddler from Arkham City
    Guru: Orson Welles from Touch of Evil (that fucking running gag continues)
    Johro: Tim Curry
    Avistew: Madeline Kahn
    Marsden: Jeremy Brett
    DAISHI: Spencer Tracy with a monocle
    Jennifer: Bette Davis
    Coolsome: Errol Flynn
    Noname: James Cagney in a trench coat
    Leplaya: Humphrey Bogart with a stash
    Chyron: Clive Owen
    St_Eddie: Mickey Rooney with a fat cigar
    Rather Dashing: DAISHI

    Ooh. I am seriously going to enjoy this now. :D
  • edited July 2013
    Noname215 wrote: »
    Marsden: Jeremy Brett
    Jeremy-Brett-jeremy-brett-16197804-738-758.jpg

    ...I approve.
  • edited July 2013
    Damn, this month is going by slow. I’m going to try to hurry up with Part 3.
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