Culverhouse Murders Novels & Stories

The deputy and nephew of Sheriff Tucker Crueson, Ced asks. "He was sent at a mental institution few days after facing the court. The guy was out of his mind and needs medication. But eventually killed himself, he jumped off from the roof of the institution building, straight to the ground." He answered and holds on his belt. "The victims?" "They are all found and dug underground just at the back yard of the McMarrow mansion. They are all rotten." The intern nods his head slowly. "Uh-- what about the family? How are they?"

Since it displayed Nick as a total, raving lunatic, should he ever come out and talk about THEM, no one would ever believe him anyway. I turn my attention to the most recent string of murders, which will hopefully be the most useful in helping me figure out how to track down this sonofabitch. Thirteen people killed, so far. The first was Susan Baker. Twenty-one. Caucasian. Brown hair. Blue eyes. Five-foot-three. Her body was found, eviscerated, in the middle of Chester Park. Next was Adam Jackson. Forty-five. African-American. Six-foot-two. Found, also eviscerated, in an apartment complex dumpster.

A number of the police officers and crime scene investigators met our eyes, nodding and looking solemn, as we passed through the lobby. “H.H. Holmes was a serial killer in the late nineteenth century,” I explained as we made our way into an elevator. “His body count isn’t really known, but he killed a lot and set himself up in what was called ‘murder castle’ in Chicago with secret hallways and trap doors so he could kill people in elaborate ways.” “Sounds horrific.” “Some of it may be more sensationalism than history, but even only what they could confirmed is terrifying. I never thought I’d get caught up in something like it.”

The murderer was a local bachelor named Hector, who had already been arrested. After preliminary investigations, the police found that Hector had murdered them both out of lust, while the murder weapon was a knife. However, Javier refused to believe that someone clouded by their lust would end up carrying a knife on him. The next day, Javier learned more about what happened when he arrived at Xerxes Village the next day. According to the villagers, Sigmund had been stabbed more than 10 times, the deepest wound being the one on his neck, which was also what killed him.

“M-Mom is that Uncle Achilles!?” My eyes suddenly shifted to the television, it was a flash report that suddenly came in. I could hear my heart start beating so fast. “The suspect in the killings of 1023 people has turned himself in, Ares Coleman. Last week he was reported dead along with Achilles Coleman, due to an accident, when they fell into the cliff and the car exploded with the impact.”

“Every detail he chose for you is flawless.” I was about to reply when the news anchor’s voice from the TV in the studio caught my attention. “We interrupt with breaking international news. Chicago mob boss Axel Thorne was murdered late last night on his private dock. The killer has been identified as his former mistress, Seraphina Croix. Both fell to their deaths in the Chicago River…” I froze.

Reports piled up like corpses. The disappearance of Sarah Hensley, still unsolved, still unspoken. The grisly deaths of Julia Summers and Jon Mitchell, hastily declared “accidents” by a press team that hadn’t stopped shaking. The murder of Victor Save, found behind the athletics building with his skull caved in like a melon. The House Phantom files, hacked and leaked by Miriam —now national news, sending ripples through powerful families. And of course—the massacre: over a hundred men, armed to the teeth, dead on school grounds.

she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Christopher let out a breath, his jaw clenched tight. “Mrs. Kimberly,” he said quietly. “She was murdered. In her mansion. Last night.” Olivia gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. “Murdered?” He gave a slow nod, his eyes not leaving hers. “And next to her body…” he added, “was a black rose.” A cold shiver ran down Olivia’s spine.

The secretary told us while still walking, he opened a door behind the dining area and we all entered it. “The motive of the man who murdered the maid is not to actually kill her, the CCTVs around the house aren’t working at the time it happened which means that he really planned it well. You want to know his real motive, Mr. Fuenter?” he said and met my gaze but he didn’t wait for my answer.

And suddenly, they see a shortcut, a shorter route which would release them from the suffering they were subject to, and they go for it. ‘While executing the shortcut, some of them fumble,’ continued the inspector. ‘Why? Simple ... they fumble because they are amateurs! Some are so overwhelmed by their success, they end up doing crazy things. Husband murders wife but wants to kiss her one last time allowing the servant to spot him. Son murders father, and instead of running away, he starts looking for his father’s pen. Why? He wants to have a souvenir of the bad times. His sister walks in, and then he has no place to hide. These actions cannot be explained, Navpreet,’ said the inspector gloo