I stared down at my Father’s broken body. The man I thought I knew, but clearly I didn’t. Blood pooled on his once white shirt and the purple bedspread beneath him. His hair was still perfectly in place and his trousers looked as they had just been pressed. The light in the room was dim, but just bright enough for me to take photographs of every inch of the room to study for evidence.
I could hear my mother’s cries from the living room, and my wife’s gentle voice trying to comfort her. After 7 years of being a top private investigator and i have never seen something so mysterious. First my brother, now my father and the killer didn’t leave a trace of evidence.
I studied the photographs closely, but there was nothing I could see that was of any use. Everything in the room was normal, nothing had been moved and everything was tidy. There was no sign of a struggle so I can assume that he was killed in his sleep, just like my brother. This gives us reason to believe that it is the same killer, who for some reason has got it in for my family.
“George it’s late, you are working too hard, you should get some sleep,” I heard Jane’s concerned voice.
“I won’t be long I promise,” and she knew that meant I wouldn’t be done for a few hours. She sighed and walked away. I always felt guilty for not spending enough time with her, and my son Charlie, but I was helping people, which is better than most. I know that Jane didn’t like my dad, but she liked my brother Austin, so she would have to understand that I wouldn’t stop until I found this killer.
I continued to scan through the photographs, clinging onto a shred of hope that something was there, but there was nothing. An empty pile of evidence that was no use to me in the slightest.
We had found that the bullet used to kill both victims came from the same gun, a 1873 SAA handgun. There aren’t many of them about and none of the local firearm shops stock them. This gives us a reason to believe the killer is experienced, and maybe ex military.
“Mum you need to be honest with me, were either you or dad having an affair?” We needed to find the killers motive, and I couldn’t think of anything else.
“What... you think I,” She was shocked that I asked.
“Well, all killers have motives, and we need to find out what it was,”
“I-I had always had my suspicions, he came home late allot... then I found out that he and Austin were gambling, the pair of them owe allot of money,” and there we have our motive. If they were gambling they would have made allot of enemies and not many friends, this would explain someone wanting to kill them both.
“Thank you, that’s all I need to know,”
I pulled up outside the Casino nearest my father’s house. I walked into the smell of cigarettes and alcohol, a ghastly smell that haunted my childhood.
“Sir, may I speak to the manager please,” I asked the man behind the bar.
“I am the manager,” he said in a dulcet tone. His breath smelled of beer.
“Okay, is this man a regular of yours?” I asked holding up a picture of my father.
“He most certainly is, he is the fella that must owe me millions,” looks like I came to the right place.
“How much money exactly?” I needed to find out as much as I could.
“Why are you so interested aye?” he asked in a more curious tone.
“I am private detective George Davis,” I said proudly holding up my ID card.
“Oh right then...” He suddenly became nervous and crossed his arms, from my training I knew that this meant he was feeling defensive.
