2004 School Magazine

149

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Creations:Original Works

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Jessica Sandford 12M

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"Bumblefoot" searched outside and returned with some black fabric which he had plucked from the rosebushes. He was beginning to change his original theory and thought that it must be the boyfriend, as he had been dressed in dark clothing. Anyway solving a murder was much better than discovering a suicide, for your career. Detective "Bumblefoot', feeling pressure that he hadn't successfully solved any major crimes of late, dismissed Miss SolverS theories. He handcuffed and led Ben down to the station to be charged Miss Solver remained behind to gather more evidence. As she was bending over the corpse she felt a presence. She turned and was con on ed by the original assailan . She recognised him as the Ubrary Stalker who had escaped from custody some months earlier and had already committed a spate of murders in recent times. Miss Solver struggled with him but was overpowered Just as he was about to take her life, "Bumblefoot" who had left his tweed hat behind, reappeared. in a state of confusion he tripped over the carpet, sent the brass lamp flying towards the stalkerS temple, forcing him crashing to the ground Detective "Bumblefoot" was feeling rather proud of himself for solving the first murder and avoiding the second. not to mention the it;ICt that he had apprehended the notorious Ubrary Stalker. "Bumblefoot' felt confident that his nights work was sure to earn him a promotion as well as the undying admiration of Miss Solver

driveway. Ben unfolded his long legs and stepped from the convertible. Tonight BenS appearance matched his vehicle: smooth, dark and sleek. In his eagerness to Join Tiny inside, he clumsily brushed against the rose bushes lining the driveway As he entered, he felt the hair on the back of his neck bristle. He was drawn towards the far corner of the room where he discovered scratches on the floorboards amongst a sea of wet, fresh blood. He followed the trail to a lifeless Tri>;)^,. Whilst still in a state of shock and weak at the knees at the sight of all the blood, he reached his phone and dialled 000 Within a few minutes, a squad car screeched up the road, siren and lights blazing. The oddly matched pair hurried inside. The detective was a young man in a tweed hat and long brown trench coat. He looked the part, sort of Sherlock Holmes but he was bumbling and clumsy tripping over the doorstep and landing fiat on his face, totally ruining the first piece of evidence I^ice, simply rolled her eyes at the obvious smudging of footprints that were once clearly visiblejust inside the door. She pulled out a small note pad and began questioning Ben. Detective "Bumblefoot' meanwhile had already solved the crime in his mind. Seeing that the victim had a gun in her hand he concluded that it was a definite suicide Miss Solver after questioning Ben and gathering all the I^ICts and viewing the evidence. could see no sign of gunshot powder or burns on Tri>9.3 hands. This crime scene was not a suicide. Detective

>.-- Tri)ty: a sas^, librarian, sauntered into the romantically scented room. She was anxious for her new boyfriend, Ben, to arrive. The sound of her new high heels clicking on the polished wooden floor filled the room. With each small step her beautiful long, blonde curls bounced. caressing her shoulders. Her peaceful silence was disturbed by a crunching sound on the gravel outside the window. There was a rustling in the bushes; perhaps it wasjust the wind. Dont be paranoid, she told herself. But she sensed someone was watching her She saw a shadow on the wall in front of her only it was clearly not hers. This shadow belonged to a tall thin man, a man she knew. Tri);)^, spun around to face him. He was unshaven with cold dark eyes and a familiar twisted smile. His limp, straggjy hair hungjust above his shoulders. He was dressed in dark street clothes. His thin bony hand reached into his pocket

Tiny saw the outline of the gun shining in

the candlelight. He aimed it towards her Heriaw opened to scream but nothing came The sidekick. Detective Constable Ima Solver a prudish looking woman with a pinched out. She was petrified with fear

His gnarled bony finger squeezed the trigger A shot fired and pierced her chest, and Tri)g^, fell to the ground. The man smiled down evilly at the still form. Feeling rather sinug and satisfied, he then heartlessly dragged her into the lounge room, her high heels scratching on the floor leaving large marks etched into the highly polished sun;ace along with a trail of red blood. He planted the gun in her hand to make it look as if she had committed suicide and then left

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Soon after a sleek black Audi pulled into the