The Murder of Eric Daryl

Prologue

         
          Mrs Scarlett Madeline died on the night of the 9th of April which was a Monday. I was already there at eleven o'clock at night, controlling the situation. She was laid dead at the bottom of the stairs along with her blood-soaked white-coloured french-type nightgown, blood bleeding out from her head.

The night was filled with chaos. The clouds were cumulonimbus and grey-coloured. The weather was stormy along with whistling and howling winds that oscillated the direction of the rain to and fro, creating chaos omnipresently. The tumultuous and rebellious gusts of wind made riots all around. The pregnant raindrops splashed so hard that it went underneath the ground, forming spots of mud. The rain showered ubiquitously along with the pitter-patter noises. After some moments, the thunder's ear-splitting booms and the flashes of lightning were perceived from the overcast clouds.

It was the maid along with a knee-length black dress and a white apron who called me beseechingly. I could read her face, blue and panic-stricken. I and Kingsley were present at the crime scene but there was not much to do and we got home immediately on the police car, not willing to be water-soaked and wasting our time there on the tempest weather.

Kingsley left me at the doorstep of my house and drove off. I covered my head with my deep purple-blue raincoat and helped myself with the shelter of the porch. I unlocked the door with my latchkey and intentionally paused for a few minutes in the hall, hooking up my coat and hat on the coat-rack. There was a aroma of peppermint that aroused up the house. I disreguarded the fragrance and was soon drown into my thoughts. I substantially confused and concerned. I began to envision the results of the next few days or weeks. I unquestionably wasn't going to do so but my instinct told me that there were rousing moments ahead. I pretended that nothing happened and gave a sigh of relief, inhaling the cool air and exhaling it heavily.

From the dining room, grew the clatters of cups and the sounds of footsteps. I was sure that it was my sister, Lucy.

"Is that you, William?" she asked, the footsteps approaching.

I stood still, shell-shocked, not knowing how to react. Soon, she walked through the kitchen door and spotted me.

"Oh! It's you. What happened? Why are you late?" she questioned. 

I've always known her questioning attitude since childhood. She always liked asking questions like a jury finding out a criminal's testimony.   

After some moment of hesitation, I replied, "Actually, I've been working on a case."

"Where?" she interrogated, placing her palms on her waists. 

"Clementine Street," I responded, tired of her questions. I talked her over about the death of Mrs Scarlett and all she would do was to look at me with broad-opened eyes and give sighed of exclamation, nodding lightly on all the ends of my phrases. 

She would stay averring over that it was a foul play, "Oh!" she would cry, smiling cheekily, "That could be someone who pushed her from the top... or... you know... something like this." 

I was thoroughly annoyed with her along with her smile that I had always unliked. I began to turn crimson all over with anger. I was completely boiling and fuming all over like a pressure cooker then burst out into a frenzy of fury, banging the table emphatically then rising up from my chair and yelling loudly, hoarse-voiced, "You're not the police, asking about your opinions, ok! It's suicide! Not murder!"

Lucy gazed at me, wretched with the change of mood. Her eyebrows pulled downwards and she grumbled, "As if it was you the criminal." She turned her face away from mine, cross-armed.  

"Stop with your silly flim-flam! Blah-blah! Nonsenses that's it! You little narrowminded."   

"Narrow-minded!" she cried and rose from her seat then darted off with quick short steps into the direction of her room just like a Chihuahua. Whenever she was cross, she would always go there.  

I disregarded the situation and beamed at my watch to see what time was it already but abruptly, my eyes were wide-opened and went to the kitchen sink, washing my hands. Just then, I gave a sigh of relieve, "Ah! Thank god she didn't notice. I just wish that whoever will solve this case won't be able to!"

...