Miss Marple's Novels & Stories

- I ask, trying not to pour out all the anger I feel at the moment. — Sorry, I didn’t know you sat here. - replies X standing up and stopping in front of me. His powerful breath inebriates me, his hands rise and hold my arms. He wets his lips and then smiles. — Could you ...? — Sure. - I say walking away and letting X pass, striving to show indifference to her perfume. I sit in my seat and set my desk, which is a mess ,as I watch X kiss Filomena’s hand that blushes at the time. — What are you doing here? Don’t you have other things to do? Richard told me you’re a VERY busy man.

He flashed back. “Don’t act as if you're saying goodbye to each other. You will make me feel guilty” Mrs. Marissa voice interrupted us. We released the hold and settled our hands on the table to face her. “I’m not going to harm any of you. I'm only taking blood samples and you're making it sound as if I'm taking out your heart” I didn't fail to chuckle at her statement. “Who should I start with?” She asked. Valen and I exchanged looks.

Dominic took the seat in the back ensuring Sheryl doesn't get out. “ Agent Parker speaking,” The Agent answered his phone. “How far are you?” William asked, starting his engine. “Oaks Street and the child is with him,” Parker answered. Speeding off into dark nothings, William had only one mission at hand. To put an end to all this nonsense. “ Agent Parker speaking,” The Agent answered his phone. “How far are you?” William asked, starting his engine. “Oaks Street and the child is with him,” Parker answered. Speeding off into dark nothings, William had only one mission at hand.

I feel like it’s waiting for me, calling for me. “I have to go,” I tell Gynith, and before she can protest, I take the cloth doused in antiseptic and dash towards the door, where the figure just smoothly slinks outside and out of view. I burst out, determined to find it, whoever it is. I look around frantically, at first seeing no one in the abandoned hall, but then I see Madam Mara lingering at the side of the entrance with dried blood all over her suit. She’s twisting her hands in front of her, pacing the floor and muttering to herself. She only stops when I tap her shoulder, and I can see her visibly deflate with what I hope is relief and not despair.

One offered a forced, sympathetic grin before hurrying off. That was it. Heading back, I saw Mara from finance, a straightforward woman in her forties who was typically direct and warm. She was at the printer, scowling at a snag. "Hey, Mara," I said, tone casual. "Sophia! Good to have you back," she replied, but her smile fell short of her eyes. She tugged at a wedged sheet. "Is something off?" I questioned, propping against the frame. "It feels like I returned to a suspense film set.

Grabbing his keys, he left the apartment, the sound of the door locking behind him like a punctuation mark to the morning’s chaos. --- Dr. Mabel’s office was in a restored brownstone across town. It had the charm of old-world architecture with the scent of cedar and faint lavender in the waiting room. Gilmore arrived five minutes early and was ushered in. Dr. Mabel was a calm, middle-aged woman with sharp blue eyes and an air of quiet authority. She gestured for him to take a seat on the comfortable chair across from her. “You look tired,” she said gently. “Didn’t sleep much,” Gilmore replied.

Officer Wallen replied, giving her a polite nod. She disappeared into the kitchen and returned with two clear glasses of cold water, placing them on the small coffee table. Then she sat across from them, her hands resting on her lap. The younger officer, Mathews, cleared his throat and looked at her gently. “Miss Scarlet,” he began, “we understand that your leaving home isn’t really our business… but your husband filed a missing person report last week. He seemed worried.” Sylvania looked down for a moment, her fingers gently twisting together.

My phone buzzed on my desk, the sharp vibration cutting through my thoughts. I ignored it at first, too focused on the reports in front of me, but then it rang again—insistently. Annoyed, I grabbed it. “What?” The frantic voice of one of the maids filled my ear. “Sir! Miss Scarlet—she fell down the stairs! She—she’s bleeding! We don’t know how bad it is, but she won’t wake up—”

Explanation: joke that stuck. ‘Nora: saw Julian at the steakhouse, "not alone," description matches an assistant-type woman. Julian's claim: hasn't seen Nora in months.’ ‘Marcus: Brookline Holdings LLC, registered the month Mabel was born, listed director Marcus, not Julian. Text from "R." on his phone: "We need to talk tonight."’ ‘Renata: calendar bookings for three years, adjoining rooms on "solo" trips. Tie-straightening at the mixer, no flinch. Laptop passcode = Renata's hire date. Calendar entry, night of [date]: "R.hers."’

“I am a senior investigator with the Council’s financial crimes division. I apologise for arriving without prior contact. I was advised that the matter I need to discuss required an in-person conversation before any official notification.” I looked at Damien. He was reading her the way he read everything that arrived unexpectedly at this door. “Come in,” I said. She came in. Mara produced tea from somewhere and disappeared with the precision she had been executing for forty years. We sat at the kitchen table, the three of us, with the document case on the table between us and the morning going on outside the window. Aldene Marsh looked at the table for a moment before speaking in the way of