|Just Plain Murder (standard:mystery, 2132 words)|
|Author: deacon||Added: May 31 2009||Views/Reads: 2099/1169||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|Just a little real life homicide|
Early Sunday morning is a good time to ride my motor bike. On a nice Sunny day it is also a good time to take photographs. Lots of good things to shoot around the downtown. I live within a five minute ride of the central city. Of course the downtown isn't much compared to most places. The town is under two hundred thousand souls, and a few heels as well. Still we have some interesting buildings, since the town is a convention center. How that came about I have no idea. I suppose I should ask someone at the chamber of commerce one day. I'm sure it had something to do with the railroad, since in the old days our town was a crossing point for the north/south and the east/west rail lines. I suppose it all started with the Hilltop Railroad Hotel. The Hilltop has been restored to it's original inglorious state. It was most likely built as a warehouse for people. The original plans called for a large dining room which I'm sure doubled as a ballroom after dinner. Possibly that was the beginning of the convention trade. Whatever it was, it historically brought meetings and conventions of all kinds to our little town. By that Sunday morning about half of the town was involved with the convention trade in one way or another. A lot of the mills had closed so it was about the only game of any size in town. I was riding by the train station when I saw the yellow tape stretched across the platform. I saw a couple of uniformed officers milling about down there. The platform was at least a complete story below the street so I was looking down on them. I didn't see the two police cars until I got to the other end of the station itself. There were three other cars in the parking lot. At least one of them had to be the car of the station master. The other two were out of place. I couldn't help myself, I manoeuvered the bike into the parking lot. Since it wasn't a motor cycle or a scooter I had no problem leaning it against the wall of the station rather than leaving it sitting alone in the parking lot. The bike had a simple kickstand which was useless if the wind blew, and sometimes it didn't even need a wind to fall over. Inside the station I found old man Linker sitting on his stool behind the ticket window. "Mr. Linker, what's all the excitement." "Somebody went and got themselves killed over night." "You mean while the station was closed." They closed the station's ticket and baggage counter one hour after the last passenger train came through. "Yep sometime after one this morning. Nellie left at one and she checked the area before she left." He looked up at me and added. "If the damn railroad would have put in that video surveillance system I begged for, this wouldn't be a problem. We would have the bastard on tape." "Well as usual you were right. So who was the victim?" I said it to stroke his ego a bit. I always get better help if I tell people how smart they are. "Not sure, looks like a stranger." "Well there isn't anything going on at the convention center till next week. She could be an organizer or something for that I guess." "Or somebody's aunt come for a visit." "Yeah but Mr. Linker, either way what was she doing here after the trains were gone." "Good point." he admitted. "You know any of those cops?" I said it waving my arms toward the platform stairs. "Haven't got a clue, so many new milk drinkers around these days." I Click here to read the rest of this story (232 more lines)
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