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Thing From Another World
Join Date: Feb 2012
Location: Where the sun don’t shine
Posts: 736
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An excerpt from “A Telltale Murder Mystery"
The cars began to pull up in front the stately home of the respectable Doctor Daishi. The good doctor, who had received no much-deserved Nobel prizes, had decided days ago that he would have a little “social gathering” at his home for some old colleagues of his. One by one, each man and woman began to step out from their limousines, clearly where Daishi stood from the high bay window overlooking the driveway, with a mixture of whiskey and Coca-Cola.
The first man to step up towards the house was the chief of the Telltale City Police, Martin Guru. The man, although the chief of police, was what people would refer to as “nefarious,” but he also happened to have a very stale sense of humor, which he usually kept to himself. He strolled up towards the door, a burning cigar in his right hand, and walked into the house’s foyer, where he was greeted by Mrs. Avistew, the head maid.
The second people to come were Dr. Darthington Marsden, an aspiring middle-aged college professor, and his wife, Jennifer. The two of them never really seemed to get along, seeing as how Jennifer was always blowing away Marsden’s paychecks by buying expensive pearls and dresses, very much like the ones she was wearing at that very moment. Neither of them looked very happy to be next to each other.
The third man to approach the great house was Abraham “Secret” Fawful, a very well known mystery novelist. His books had never, at any point, made him very much money, but he got his recognition from the reviews. The only bestseller he ever wrote made him very little money, but enough to buy him a small apartment in New York City. The only reason he agreed to attend this little gathering, despite knowing nothing of any of the other guests, nor this mysterious Dr. Daishi, because he felt as if he really needed to be among strangers. He didn’t know why, he just seemed to need it.
A few minutes after Mr. Fawful had disappeared into the house, a long white limousine stopped in front of the house. Out of the car stepped one of the most recognizable faces in the world: the Academy Award-winning actor Samuel Coolsome, whom the newspaper had dubbed “Heart Throb.” The doctor didn’t really know why he was called that, seeing as how he usually played the part of a misunderstood freak in most of his romantic epics. And although he usually wore a big, stupid grin on his face for the photographers, he didn’t look happy at all as he approached the house.
The next and final guest to arrive was the famous composer Albert Alcore Morris. Dr. Daishi was a lover of fine music, and he happened to find Morris’ work to be exquisite. Morris believed that the only reason he came was due to his liking of having fine champagne with total strangers.
Dr. Daishi, after having seen the last of the guests enter the house, turned to his bedroom fireplace, where he had a log burning. He leaned over the mantelpiece for about a minute, underneath the head of the deer that he shot the Spring before, and downed what was left of his Jack Daniels and Coca-Cola. He then replaced the glass on top of his bedroom’s bar, and walked over to the desk beside his king-sized bed. He opened the drawer, and pulled out an M1911. He placed a loaded magazine into the handle, shifted back the slide to place one in the chamber, and placed it into his shoulder holster. He then walked slowly out of his bedroom, making sure to lock the door.
The guests had all gathered in the bar room, upon the polite request of Matthew Johnro, the butler. Every man had an aged whiskey or scotch (Morris only drank Irish coffee), and every woman had a glass of Dom Perignon.
Marsden had approached Johnro, who had a platter of drinks, and politely said, “So tell me, Johnro, exactly what is this… Dr. Daishi a doctor of?”
“The doctor is an expert of the psychology of the criminal mind. He has written a number of books on such subjects as why people like to steal, why people commit felonies for money, and especially why people commit murder.”
Chief Guru had just then strolled up next to them, the cigar still smoldering in his right hand. “It’s quite obvious why people commit murder, Matthew. Someone doesn’t like someone, they plug ‘em, we catch ‘em. It’s a simple as that.”
Johnro laughed a timid little laugh. “You really don’t understand, Mr. Guru. He believes that people commit murder because deep down, we are all thrill killers, or that we are all insane, no matter what we try to do about it. “
Fawful had now also come over to join in the conversation. “Actually, I’ll have to agree with both Dr. Daishi and Mr. Guru. People really only commit murder because of some hidden hatred, or for some wrong done to them by the victim, or, as the doctor seems to put it, for the simple thrill of committing murder, which eventually turns into insanity and takes away any recognition for the life of a fellow human being. But, murder could also be for financial reasons, like a man kills his brother for his dying mother’s inheritance, or maybe it could be for personal dramas, like a man kills a man because the other man was sleeping with his wife, or perhaps the wife is with the other man and tells him to kill the husband so that they may be together.”
Marsden laughed. “You’re the author, aren’t you? The guy who writes those murder stories?”
“Yes, I am.” Fawful took a gulp from his scotch.
Guru smiled, shifted his whiskey to the other hand, and shook Fawful’s hand.
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Fawful. The wife loved that one you did about the guy who cut people up in their own bathrooms. What was that one called?”
“The Kansas City Carver.”
“Genius!”
On the other side of the room, Samuel Coolsome sat on the couch between Mrs. Marsden and Morris. Mrs. Marsden looked ready to drool all over him, while Morris sat quietly with his Irish coffee and cigarette.
“I absolutely adored you in The River Boat Gambler! That scene where you kissed Rita Hayworth… oh my, how dreamy!”
“Yes, Ms. Hayworth sure knows how to kiss a man. I myself was filled to the brim with excitement during the whole filming of that movie, just waiting for us to film that one scene where I kissed the Rita Hayworth. Ah, love, so quickly in my grasp behind the camera, as it is with my adoring public. Yet, it seems that true love is not a prize I can win. Even with all the love I have for my fans, and the love I portray on the screen, I am still unable to find true love.”
What a ham… Morris thought to himself. Mrs. Marsden had looked ready to become puppy-dog-eyed.
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There is treachery afoot! (Shifts eyes)
Currently writing: A Telltale Murder Mystery (Coming Soon in either mid/late 2013 or early 2014)
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