Good Murder Mystery Novels & Stories

He swiftly dropped everything and answered the call, his voice filled with both relief and concern. "Father, it's good to hear from you," Liam greeted warmly, grateful for the familiar voice on the other end of the line. They exchanged pleasantries and caught up briefly on their lives before the conversation took a more serious turn. Liam's father began discussing the recent wave of murders targeting drug dealers across New York City. The perpetrators were ruthless, showing no mercy, and what made it even more unsettling was the fact that the mastermind behind these killings remained elusive, with an unknown face. However, one thing was clear – the mysterious man wanted Liam dead.

But it cant be them as they would be the same age as me then so whoever did this now, definitely did it then but their reasons and who they are is a mystery to me. “Could it be an enemy of my family that I wasn’t aware of?” I asked out loud and shook my head. I doubt my parent had any, well I can't say for dad though but mum… she is a very good person and whoever might want to hurt us or me and did this operation successfully must be an insider… but who could that be? I kept pondering on it for a while when I heard a click sound before the door was opened which made me stand up quickly and watched Del come in here with something that looked like a tray that had a covered plate and a bottle o

"Police experts found Mahone's fingerprints in the knife, in the doorknob. I'm not allowed to see her autopsy report, so I can't tell about dental floss. I believe Mahone didn't do this, somebody set him up." I throw the phone on the bed. What am I expecting really? That she didn't die, some miracle happened? But when the murderer stabs her and Mahone finds her all bloody, exactly in that moment the cops walk in and arrest him, that's clearly a setup. I have to know about Martha. Mom would know about her, but I have to wait until she comes home. I clamber off from my bed and reach to the bookshelf. At the meantime, I learn about The Conditorem.

said Nathan and Jane nodded as well. “I am perplexed,” commented Susn,” Nothing links up at all. Mystery one, Harrison tracks the private eye up here. We follow. Mystery two, we find here Hartland murdered in his house with his house ransacked. Mystery three- how does the Boar fit in all this nonsense? Four, why on earth is Neville Guise is visiting this part of the world? Then what is happening in the Black Gorse Moor and what is with that network of tunnels?” “You left out one more,” Nathan remarked,” Who hired the private eye in the first place, Vermont?”

Tom. (Kelly makes her way to the office) Good morning Kelly, good morning Tim, how was your night? Very well, thank you. Here's the coffee and doughnut you enjoy so much. Thank you so much! I nearly forgot this came in today for you. Tim said. I suppose it's new evidence for the burglary case you're working on. Oh my, thank you very much. (Kelly tears the envelope to view its content). Yes! With this information, I can reunite Anna with her Mum.

The kind of smile you give when a chess game finally ends, and your opponent has walked straight into the trap you've set from the very first move. "Detective Bell." My voice was calm, almost gentle. "That recording… Doesn't it prove the killer poisoned those four, and then drank his own poison? Doesn't that sound like a guilty man taking himself out? "I don't understand why you all keep looking at me. From start to finish, I never did a thing. Just because Sharon suffered, just because I hated them for it, that makes me guilty? "I told you before. Yes, I hated them. But I'm just one woman. What could I really do?"

“After you left, Grahame sent me a text message cancelling the golf because it was raining and before I could reply DI Silver rang me asking me for his help” “What happened?” “Man had been murdered,” I stated, taking a gulp from my drink. “Whereabouts?” “Magnolia Close.” Kimberley put down her glass. “Pretty exclusive setting for a murder, isn’t it?” “Murder has no class distinction, Kimberley. She shook her head. “How was he murdered?” “Shot while standing at his bedroom window,” I said, noticing that I had already demolished most of my pint. “So far none of the neighbours that have been spoken to saw or heard anything.”

She was supposed to be detained, but somehow she managed to show up here. She splashed gasoline all over my doorway and throughout the hallway like a madwoman. That was when I realized she intended to burn me alive. I immediately called emergency services. By the time I grabbed a wet towel to cover my nose and mouth and prepared to escape, thick smoke and flames had already begun spreading outside. Carefully, I opened my door. The moment I started running toward the stairwell, Mike suddenly lunged at me with a knife from a dark corner. This time, the toy knife in his hand had been replaced with a real fruit knife.

“You mean you aren’t ready to announce the culprit, Mr. Super-dick?” “And steal your thunder? I wouldn’t dream of it.” “Bad news, I’m clean out of thunderbolts,” I said. “We’ll just have to keep digging, then. Good, solid police work will get us there.” Yeah, but how long would that take? I didn’t want to spend another hour looking over my shoulder, let alone days, weeks, or even months. We were both intelligent, creative adults. There had to be a way to lure our murderer out into the open. It struck me like the bolt I had just claimed not to own. We did have a way to entice him or her out of the shadows.

There was nothing that these rich folks wouldn't do to stay out of trouble. It was easier to deal with the more common folks who didn't have the money to throw around to free themselves from any allegations. But with rich people, things were a lot more complicated. The hunter could quickly become the hunted and no one would say shit about it. When Detective Camille Adams and her able partner, Detective Jackson Cooper finally set out for Sheraton group of companies where their new suspect worked, they did so with so many doubts. But as they neared their destination, Detective Adams started to lose her nervousness. She had a duty to perform to the people after all. If Edmund Hamiton was guilty