Murder In Waltham Novels & Stories

The silence on the other end of the line was heavy, thick with the sudden, sharp realization of a journalist who had just smelled blood in the water. "Say that again," he commanded quietly. "Victor Hale," I said, my venom pouring out now, hot and fast. "The CEO of Halo Systems. He didn't just fall off the roof of the I* Technologies building in Brooklyn on Wednesday morning. He was pushed. The NYPD has an active homicide investigation open, and Katia Kensington was arrested for it at the Windsor estate. They have the security footage, Richard. They have a video showing her hands on his chest, shoving him over the railing."

As they began to approach suspect leads, Hathori convinced that the only suspects were his own eldest son or even one of Woody's hired henchmen, who could have killed them, if they could prove it was Woody's own son, it could prove it was revenge. Two weeks after the murders, the city's crime division, which was reopening what was based on information that the division opened from the year 2014, that a young man was found dead on the side of the road, what everything indicates seems to have been a hit-and-run , Wesley Chambers, age 19. So, as rumors were running rampant, a series of events, in which two gay boys who died on a road within the space of six months of each other, they attended t

Isolde asked. He looked at her. And for the first time in days, there was fear in his voice. “It means the truth may not save us.” The first death hit before sunrise. Client 27: Judge Mira Salov Found in her Georgetown home. Gunshot. Staged as suicide. Case sealed in under six hours. The second came two hours later. Client 9: Gregory Halstead Car bomb in Berlin. No survivors. No footage. No fingerprints. By the time the sun rose over Manhattan, five names on the Red List had gone permanently silent.

I grabbed Linda's head and forced her to face me as I screamed at her almost hysterically. "Tell me! How did my parents really die?!" A deafening crash sounded outside as police officers broke through the door. They approached Linda and showed their badges. "We've found evidence linking you to a murder committed many years ago. You need to come with us and cooperate with the investigation." Linda trembled so fiercely that she could not speak. Another officer approached Jenny. "Ms. Jenny Moore, the weight-loss biotechnology company registered under your name is suspected of illegally harvesting fat cells. You'll need to come with us as well."

“Police arrested Wilmington photographer Richard Baimbridge earlier this evening on suspicion of murder in connection with the case of missing twenty-three-year-old Ashleigh Matthews.” Martha had taken a Percocet tablet that left her groggy and thick-tongued. “Oh, Richie,” she moaned as they played video of Richard being paraded through a crowd of reporters and pushed into the back of a police car. Tears streaked Pearl’s cheeks and collected on her chin.

With a blank look, the man gazed back at Captain Joe Whitely, who sat by the window, his belly bulging against his uniform. "So, tell me again, Whitely," Cruz began, his voice low and deadly, "why did news just blindside me that Evelyn Chase was murdered in a damn call house? In our town. You swore there wasn’t a single one left standing." Whitely raised his cigar to his lips, taking a long, languid drag. A smirk crept onto his tobacco-stained teeth. “Oh, there are always call houses, Commissioner. We close ‘em down, and they pop right back up.” He gestured dismissively. “This one just happened to slip under the radar.”

The news I heard shocked me. “Around 6:40pm this evening, the police identified the culprit for the murder of Albert Connor-Mckinney and Mary Adele White. The culprit is a middle aged man: Smith Connor the uncle of the diseased agent. The sheriff: Morgan was fatally shot…he died later in the hospital…Chris the accomplice…receiving treatment at Winster county hospital… hard drugs and guns were among the things confiscated at the scene… June Hall reporting.” I knew this instant that I would never escape this, my life may be lost in the process. My fear now is not the detective with a scowl but Smith. I know he would not let me be.

"Who are the family members of the patient? We received a report from the hospital and need to look into the situation." Sophie immediately lunged at them. "Officers! It's her! My daughter-in-law! She went over to give my mother-in-law medicine yesterday! She murdered her!" The officers turned their gazes to me. "Miss, did you deliver medicine to the deceased yesterday?" "I did, but—" "Where is the pill bottle now?" Leon finally spoke up, his voice chillingly calm. "Officers, the bottle should still be on the coffee table at my grandma's place. It's bound to have my wife's fingerprints on it, since she's the one who was taking care of it."

Let the silence build. "Seventeen years ago, Richard Emmanuel collapsed at his home and died within hours. The cause of death was recorded as cardiac arrest. It was not. It was murder. A synthetic compound, undetectable by standard forensic methods at the time, was administered to Richard Emmanuel by an agent acting on Valda's orders." The courtroom murmured. Judge Harmon tapped her gavel once.

The lady rapped her questions, "Mr. Murray was said to have pushed his wife from a building straight to her death. He was said to have written a will, giving all his wealth to you, Mrs. Walsh, then drowned himself. Last three years, you never gave us an accurate information on his reason for willing his wealth to you. Is it truly because you had an affair with him outside his marriage?" A middle aged reporter who refused to be outdone, squeezed his large frame through. "His son is still missing till today. Do you know why he drowned himself instead of seeking his son? Do you think the police would reopen this case? Mrs. Walsh, Mrs. Walsh, tell us more about the lady, Ross Camille. Why did sh