My Dear Sweet Murder-A Murder Most Unladylike Fanfic

George Part 2

"What?!" said Alexander. "Wai-We haven't even thought this through!"

  "James snuck on without anyone knowing." Yup, he really did sound more evil in my wording.

  "That's not the point. Who cares if he went on? They're probably having a good time and have already solved a bit. We're supposed to stay here."

  I gritted my teeth. I don't know why I was so angry all of a sudden. This wasn't like me.

  5...4...3...2...1

  I exhaled a deep breath which I had been holding on to. "You're right," I said quietly. "I don't know what got over me."

  Alex shrugged and motioned for me to follow him out of Ms Haulings's kitchen. Just as I took a step, Ms Haulings herself appeared and bustled in to the room. "So much to do," she whimpered, biting her nails. She felt her hand around the pots and grabbed one. "What should I cook, what do I cook?"

  "What's wrong Ms Haulings?"

  She looked at me with wide eyes. "Oh, it's you lads," she said, surprised. "I thought you boys were go-Never mind about that! I-um, I have to make quite a lot of dishes. For Mr Blueberry's funeral."

  "Really?" I asked, only a hint of suspicion in my voice.

  Ms Haulings ignored me and lifted up a huge cookbook. "Sorry, I can't answer any questions right now. I'm too busy."

  "Yes," Alex said. "I think we are too."

  I could tell that Alexander had came up with a theory. No time to listen to Ms Haulings now. And with that, we dashed out of her kitchen.

***

We were back at the house which Daisy's father had bought for us to stay in. My mind was buzzing with possible ways that Mr Blueberry and his wife's death had been linked together.

  "Maybe...I know! The murderer killed Mrs Blueberry, but then revealed too much to Mr Blueberry so he had to go as well!" exclaimed Alex.

  "Yes, but who could do that?" I asked.

  "Wait, I have a copy of the list of people in the house, what they were doing etc. All I have to do is find it."

  "I thought Hazel wrote it?" I said, confused.

  Alex laughed. "No, no. Before they left, I asked Hazel to write me a copy of it! Here it is..." He fished out two pieces of paper in his drawer. My eyes scanned the list. There was:

  -Alice Liu

  -John the butler

  -Margot, John's suspicious girlfriend

  -Florence the cleaner, who had an argument with Annie Blueberry previously

  -Honey, Roy Blueberry's maid who used to work for him everyday and loves scuttlebutts, gossips etc.

  -Martha, Mrs Blueberry's maid, who helps Florence to clean nowadays. Annie Blueberry acted like Martha's mum.

  "Maybe we should interview them more," suggested Alex.

  "Who?"

  "Like...Martha."

  "Why Martha?" I demanded. I thought Honey would've been a good idea.

  Alex shrugged, shrinking back as my possessive behavior took over. "Just, I don't think anyone would be that nice to reveal their secrets. Maybe Martha has got some. Remember the whole Enid thing at Deepdean that Hazel told me about? Martha reminds me of her."

  I nodded. "Fair enough."

  We had previously gotten everyone's addresses when we had interviewed them. But how were we going to get there? Martha's house was pretty far.

  "Don't worry," said Alex, as if reading my mind. "All we have to do is...how about board a train?"

  Thirty minutes later, my partner and I were standing outside what was supposedly Martha's home. I saw a shadow pass over one of the windows. That shadow whipped its hair to look at us. Martha. I recalled her face and her body. A bit muscular under her uniform. Blonde, with brown eyes and the same height as Alex.

  I ringed the doorbell and not a second later, Martha opened the door.

  She looked over us disapprovingly. "Need anything?"

  "Oh yes," said Alex politely. "We want to interview you again. And a little bit further this time."

  Martha looked shocked before resetting her face back to its expression. "Come in then. Why am being this un-reluctant? Because I have nothing to hide!"

  I was pretty sure 'un-reluctant' wasn't a word, but I didn't argue and headed inside. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Alex staring at the 12 inch TV screen. That's strange. Martha was a maid. A maid doesn't make that much money. Do they?

  "So, how much do you make a year?" I questioned as all of us took a seat in the living room. The living room was decorated with pictures of what must've been younger Martha and her family. There was a huge window that made light spill in every direction.

  Martha shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "It's private," she said. "You shouldn't be asking that."

  I raised an eyebrow. "I thought you had nothing to hide?"

  "Yes but-Fine. I make around..." Martha scrutinised her eyes and thought for a moment. After a while, her eyes returned to normal shape. "About $260 per year."

  Alex wrote that down.

  "How come you've got all this?" I motioned around the room. "And this lovely house too. You know, I thought you would be living in a jointed house, like most people. But you're living in a house half the size of the Blueberrys, which is still considered as a rather large house. May I ask: where did you get all the money from?"

  "I..."

Hi to all of my lovely readers...AND WELCOME TO GEORGE'S PERSPECTIVE OF THIS CRIME>:D

i've decided that i have written WAY too many short chapters, so i'm going to combine some of them! if that makes any sense. anyway if santa doesn't gimme $10000 in cash, rudolph ain't leading that sleigh next year