Dollhouse Murders Novels & Stories

"His name's Dwayne Bower. He went to college with the killer, Jacob Zeller, the victim, Tom Bancroft, and Edgar Maguire, the man who was killed a few days ago. All four shared a dorm." Hank slammed the desk. "Look at his reaction. Does that look like a man who knew the killer and the dead? And Jacob killed five people, including an officer! Dwayne shows no shock, no grief, not even fear!" Steve said, "We went through his phone messages, too. Nothing turned up." Hank sank back into his chair, shoulders sagging. "What do the crime scene reports say?" "Scene evidence indicates that Jacob used the stairwell. The elevator cameras never captured him. The resident of apartment 603, a 35-year-old ma

As happy as he has been in far too long a time. But that happiness does not last once he steps into his living room. Because once again the police are there. Only this time, they are not looking as friendly as they had mere hours before. This time, there is a judgement in their eyes that is aimed solely at Owen. “There has been another murder.” “What?” “We found the body of a young woman out back, past your work shop. In a large, inclosed well house.” The sheriff tells him. “She was raped, beaten and shot through the forehead. Then dumped into the well.”

Almost everyone looked sad, or they were very good at pretending. ‘I’m terribly sorry for your loss. A very elegant lady Miss Arora,’ said the inspector solemnly, nodding and reflecting on a previous meeting with Esha. ‘This is a case of murder. The room seems to be untouched ... Nothing is missing ... The victim was found wearing a camisole and a black trouser. She has a severe bruise on her head. It is murder, alright. Ah! A terrible affair. Everything points to the fact that the murderer got away, at least for the time being. I gather that she was last seen at 4.30 by the housemaid?’ ‘Yes,’ Jyoti croaked from the corner. ‘I see ...’

It was a simple little cottage. Raven was just a simple girl working in a company, living in a small house from her earnings to the town. One day, that would change. One day, she'll move from the wretched Domsville, where every second was a risk. Nobody knows her as RD, except for her crew. Nobody knows anything about the murderer except for the fact that a tattoo of the two letters, RD, was permanently on his or her back. She let the police figure it out with a mistake.

I said expressionlessly. He shot me a questioning look but didn't press further. But that night, he moved the doll from the study to the cabinet by the headboard. He even changed the combination on the padlock. The new combination was 1023, Dorothy's birthday. It took me only two tries to crack it. "That idiot. Why would he make his lover's date of birth the new combination? Didn't he think Laura would figure it out?" "Laura opened the cabinet again! She's going to put that doll through another round of torture!"

The one who walked in wasn’t Marcus or Victoria. It was Daniel. His face was ashen as he slammed a file onto the table. “Sophie Sullivan, you really know how to put on a show!” He pulled out a chair, staring straight at me. “You almost had us fooled.” My heart dropped to the bottom of my chest. “We went to the abandoned textile mill in the south district.” Daniel leaned back. “You were right. There is an underground storage room. We found bloodstained clothes, and the pumpkin mask.”