A Murder Mystery (standard:Suspense, 2627 words)
Author: Ashok Gurumurthy	Added: Mar 18 2005	Views/Reads: 34955/12646	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
A never-heard-of twist in the tale.

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

the way. She couldn't, however, refuse to take him along to Paraguay. 

Edward got admitted by dint of his admonitions: ‘Look Bertha, we've
hardly spent any time together since our engagement. I want to be with 
you, so I'm coming'. 

The choice of Asunción was due doubly to their money problems; it was
cheap and a good place to hunt for potential suppliers. 

*** 

Two uniformed policemen arrived, with a plainclothes detective, in forty
minutes of the phone call. They finished the job of examining the scene 
and carrying the body away in less than an hour. From their 
conversation, it was obvious that they could not have liked foreigners 
making their job tougher. On their way out, they made it clear to the 
three that they couldn't care less about the murder. The policeman who 
stayed back for questioning finished it in fifteen minutes, having 
asked some superficial questions in halting English. 

Six hours later, at eleven in the night, they received a call from the
police and were told that there were no fingerprints other than theirs 
found in the kitchen and the knife was completely free of prints; so no 
charges would be pressed against anyone. The investigation was over 
unless new leads came in, they had said. 

George, who had taken the call, said, after telling them the news, ‘Damn
good investigation! That was fast'. Nobody answered. They decided to 
call it a day and retired to the bedroom where there were three beds in 
three corners for them. 

Try as they did, they couldn't sleep. They kept murmuring something.
No-one was sure what the others felt; their awkward conversation was 
evidence that they had difficulty in accepting that they were able to 
take the death so lightly. No tears had been shed. There had been no 
pointless consolations either. 

In the morning they had lost all of their awkwardness and were talking
freely over breakfast. 

Tony began by putting a question to Edward, ‘What were you up to
yesterday?' 

‘What do you mean?' Edward asked. 

‘What is your story? What were you doing when death must have occurred?'


‘Are you insinuating—' 

‘Answer the question.' 

‘As I said, I went to the town to see if I could arrange for a city tour
for us.' 

‘What came of it?' 

‘Nothing. All offices were closed.' 

‘Very convenient. Because then you couldn't possibly have brought back
brochures, etc.' 

‘What the hell are you driving at?' 

‘Why shouldn't I suspect you of murdering my dear sister?' 

Edward was calm. ‘You certainly can. I have no solid alibi. But what is
your story?' 

‘Why, I was with George, buying supplies.' 

‘So that lets both of you off the hook, huh?' 

The conversation stopped there. In silence, the table was cleared and
the dishes cleaned. When it was over, Tony said ‘I'm going for a walk; 
I need fresh air' and walked out of the cottage, not waiting for them 
to respond. 

George began ‘You know what?' 

Edward said ‘What?' 

I can smell something fishy here. Yesterday, Tony wasn't with me all the
time. At one point, he casually suggested to me—it seemed affectedly 
casual—that we should do the shopping separately to save time and meet 
somewhere. I agreed because I really didn't think there was anything to 
it then. But now I think...' 

‘What?' 

‘Well, he had time enough for a two-way ride here.' 

‘Yes. Suspicion is in the air...' The comment had seemed deliberately
hostile; and it had its effect. After that they didn't trust each other 
to discuss anything more. 

Tony returned. He must have been very tired because he removed his
t-shirt and lay flat on the carpet, not moving for some time. Only when 
George commented on this and asked ‘Are you very tired?' did he 
straighten, clumsily, in attention. 

‘You bet I am' he replied. 

After a while, Edward said somewhat pleadingly ‘I think we should all be
practical and ensure our safety.' 

‘Whatever does that mean?' Tony asked. 

‘I mean we should think rationally about the future and assess the
present situation with caution.' 

‘Come to the point' Tony said irritably. 

‘I will. Let me first of all state that I am grieved by Bertha's death.
Don't you forget I was her fiancé. You must not think me inconsiderate 
or unsympathetic—' 

‘We shall think what we will. You just give us your rational idea.' 

‘Don't interrupt me like that. All I'm saying is, What is going to come
out of an investigation now? The damage is done. She is dead. It is 
clear that the police don't care. Why should we be all worked up when 
we know that if the truth comes out it'll probably be worse for us than 
now. How shall we prove anything? Will we convince ourselves? Will you 
be convinced that I am convinced and I that you are? Can you imagine 
what men in fear of one another for some or other reason will do? They 
will kill, God damn it! Do you understand me?' He had raised his pitch 
while asking the last question. 

For about ten seconds, nobody said anything, so he continued. 

‘And do you know what I found in our telephone now? A bug. Our telephone
was being tapped. For all we know, they may have bugged the whole 
place.' 

‘Who's they?' George asked. 

‘The police. Their indifference may have been feigned. They may want to
get at the truth this way.' 

Suddenly Tony slammed his palm down on the floor and, as if struck by an
idea, brought his index finger to his lips. He gestured to them to move 
out of the house and led them to the driveway. He sat down on the mud 
beside the road, causing others to follow. Only then did he explain. 

‘I believe Edward's suspicions are not baseless. I am told the police
here are often advised by the foreign police departments to keep a 
watch on whom they suspect of criminal activities; specifically, they 
tap phones and bug every room. Maybe it was done to our cottage.' 

His apprehension was greeted gloomily by them. They may have been smart,
but they certainly weren't smart enough; there were, in fact, 
thirty-five bugs in and around their cottage, and virtually every sound 
was being transmitted by wireless to a listening station nearby. The 
bugs covered a fifteen-metre radius around the cottage. 

‘Then it would be well to leave the cottage immediately, now that we
can, and fly back to London?' George asked. 

‘Yes. George, why don't you go to town and advance our tickets?
Meanwhile we'll pack our things.' 

George agreed and so it was carried out. The packing took little time,
during all of which they consciously kept silent. They were small-time 
crooks only and didn't know how to handle such a situation. They then 
took a bed sheet with them and settled at the same spot by the 
driveway. 

Tony started the conversation. ‘When I come to think of it, I think
yesterday George behaved very oddly while we were shopping. He pointed 
out on more than one occasion how we two were doing one man's job. He 
cleverly kept me from noticing the repetitiveness of the comment. But 
the more I think of it the surer I am that he was doing it on purpose. 
And, you know, we weren't really together all the time, because I sent 
him to buy half the things on a separate line of shops. We were to meet 
at a particular place after we finished, and he showed up late, and 
excited. Also, he claimed he couldn't get some of the stuff. Why, when 
we parted, I thought I saw him heading straight for the butcher's shop. 
Gives me the creeps, to think of the possibilities.' 

Edward cried out ‘Goodness!' and after a pause ‘No!'. Soon he was
trembling, which showed when he resumed talking. ‘Look, let's strike a 
deal. We'll talk about this murder business no more. Please let's stop 
it.' 

Again in a short while he shrieked. ‘Oh my God! I'll be damned. Excuse
me.' With that he got up and started running away from the cottage, 
muttering to himself ‘It's a conspiracy, it's a bloody conspiracy; 
cousin against cousin, huh?'. Puzzled, Tony fixed his stare on the 
receding figure. Edward would not return. 

Tony slowly came to a conclusion as to Edward's thoughts before leaving,
and he could only marvel at his brilliance. He was now saddened. He 
returned to the cottage. 

When George returned, he was greeted by a punch in the face by Tony. He
was too surprised to return the blow. He merely said ‘What the hell?'. 

‘You bastard! You killed her, didn't you?' Tony said. 

‘Most certainly I did not. How can you accuse me of such a thing?' 

‘Then why did you want to do your shopping separate?' 

‘I didn't.' 

‘Why did you keep dropping hints about it then?' 

‘Oh no, I didn't.' 

The vehement denial seemed to soften Tony. ‘Oh, then what is all this?
Why has Edward run away? He doesn't suspect you?' 

‘He has run away?' 

‘Yeah. When I told him I suspected you deliberately got yourself
separated in town yesterday, he seemed struck by a torrent of ideas, 
and his expression kept changing. In the end, he just ran away. I 
thought he would soon return. But he didn't. And I think he won't.' 

Resignedly George said ‘He must have guessed I found out'. 

‘What?' 

‘I think he did it. Do you remember how he was waiting for us when we
returned? Why couldn't he simply knock and get in? Or why not use the 
kitchen door?' 

‘Oh my God!' 

‘Yes, and that knife. I think I remember seeing a similar knife among
his effects. Let's go check if it's still there. He didn't take his bag 
I suppose?' 

‘No, he didn't. Let's go.' 

‘Of course he invented that stuff about the telephone bug.' 

Sure enough, the knife was missing, but its protective cover was still
there. 

‘Gosh! He really had me fooled. And what a clever act he put on to
confuse me! I thought, when I voiced my suspicions about you, I had 
reminded him of something that he wanted to go check. And since I was 
suspicious of you, I thought that confirmed my suspicions. It's all 
hellish. Say, you got the tickets changed?' 

‘Of course. I ain't Edward, you know. When I go to town, I get the job
done.' They managed a short laugh at that tense moment. 

Tony said ‘His motive?' 

‘Revenge. It must be maddening for a man of his vanity to have to beg
with his fiancée.' 

‘I see.' Tony frowned in deep reflection, reflection on human behaviour.
Was it that they only appeared so stupid or were they indeed that 
stupid? It must be a baffling puzzle, he thought, to thinkers why 
humans always believed the most convenient theory of things, despite 
their reason warning them of the danger of doing so. He smiled wanly, a 
sense of guilt weighing down upon him. No, he was not above them. 

Was Tony the murderer? Or was it George? Or Edward? The murderer knew of
course that the telephone call just preceding the murder was made from 
the telephone booth because he had made the call; he knew about the 
bugs because he had installed them; he had also installed five video 
cameras in the house; he knew who had taken the knife from the 
bag—himself; he knew when and how it was taken—after the murder, simply 
picked up from the front room; and he was the only one to know these 
things. He told you everything. Yes, the murderer was I.


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