Good Murder Mystery Novels & Stories

Whoever was behind it knew exactly how to get under his skin, and it was working. He took a cigar from his pocket and lit it, taking a long drag exhaling slowly as smoke curled around him like fog. He stared out of the window until the cigarette burned down to the filter. Somewhere in that city, someone was playing games with him using ghosts from his past as bait. And if that was the case, he’d play along. But this time, he’d be the one setting the trap. Nikolai turned from the window and walked to the table. He grabbed his coat, a gun and car keys from the desk.

I arched my brow at him. “Not you too. What’s so bad about a security company. So he owns almost all the security cameras in the city. That should be a good thing if it's true what he claims in all the magazines about being an honest man. But, on the other hand, it could all be a front, and he could be withholding potential evidence. I don't have time to waste. I've wasted enough time. I have a murderer to find.” “It’s normally the ones who work so hard to appear good that have the most skeletons in their closet, Rey.”

He packed everything into his bag pack and glanced at his motorbike, glancing in the direction of the building, he could already hear footsteps approaching. He ran his hand through his hair and quickly hopped into his motorbike, starting it in a hurry. "He is over here!" He heard a deep voice call out to the others and glancing over his shoulder he noticed one bringing out a gun from the side of his suit. "Stop!" He shouted at Robin, but Robin quickly accelerated without stopping, he made a quick turn and drove off. "After him!" Called out one of the security guards who had opened fire already but had missed Robin.

He’d made it his career to follow Blackwell up and down the East Coast, transferring from department to department over the years. After a triple murder in Baltimore, he’d picked up on something in a forensics report the FBI had missed—spores at a crime scene, from some gourmet mushroom produced in only a half-dozen places in the country. He’d put six brown pins in the map on his wall at his rental, one for each location.

’ It was her uncle, Nicholas Jacobs, the conniving bastard who sold her out to the criminals. Nicholas had been sitting in his car waiting for a sign that his niece was still alive. It had been a few hours since she had been taken, and he was losing hope as the night wore on, but he was not going to give up. He had a feeling Clara was near. His patience paid off when he heard the gunshot somewhere near where he was waiting. The sound reverberated against the shipping crates and warehouses. He prayed that he was heading in the right direction as he followed his instinct. He saw someone running toward him in a zig-zag pattern like a maniac that he almost ran over her.

He was exhausted and the worst was yet to come. The three men were now saying their goodbyes. Muhammad checked his wristwatch, the time was 9:45pm. He had done his possible best to make a valid connection with all five victims but apart from the fact that they were all beautiful, there was still no reasonable connection. The First One had a thing for pretty ladies but the motive of the killer in committing the murders still eludes him. The way MO of the killer shows he was burning with rage when he killed the ladies. It was like unleashing a bottled-up anger. The motive was a mystery and if someone had somehow paid the monster to commit the murders, then why?

The perfect assassin laid on the ground with blood all over herself. “Pr-actice.” She replied hoarsely. “You shot yourself?” Greg looked into her eyes to seek for the truth. Jilly nodded slowly as it hurt as she moved. Then, he found the gun close to her. He grabbed the gun with a safety glove to not ruin evidence and handed it to his member. The gun was safely put in a plastic bag to undergone an investigation. For now and until the result came, she was a suspect. Greg could do nothing as it was his job and the spot was suspected as a crime scene.

It was a scary feeling. Thankfully watching the man that she had spent the day with, the man that she really liked, getting thrown into a police cruiser was enough to snap her out of her daze. Then she went to get him from the police station, which was a new experience for her. Now, they were going all Scooby-Doo gang trying to solve the mystery of the motel murderer. The were making list, compiling evidence and so on. But who better than them? He is an expert in serial killers having been raised by one and she is an expert busy body, having been raised by one and having made it into a career.

Bob said, chuckling. “Oh I don’t think that’s worse than investigating multiple murders, in which the only clue is the loans that they all the victims owe a certain bank”. “Yeah speaking of which, Danny I’m calling to tell you that you would have to open another case file, a fifth one” Bob said. Danny winced at the thought of having yet another victim of the mysterious killer. “Who’s the latest victim?” he asked “Owen Mclean an English businessman who deals mainly in real estate, I’d have my secretary send an email of the victim’s details to you, for profiling” Bob said.

“Who would put mint in a popcorn?” “I would,” Thomas intervened, shrugging. “Just to know what it tastes like.” “I’ll tell you what it tastes like: weird and not delicious.” “Shh! Shut up. The movie’s starting,” Leia shushed. Alice finally found peace when the movie started. It was a mystery where the detective was being played by a serial killer, leaving small clues in each of his victims. Alice liked mystery movies and comic books. It tickled her mind just like how science experiments did. It was a puzzle for her, a puzzle that was screaming and begging to be solved. However, she knew that it was different for murder cases. It was much more complicated.