Murder Mystery Novels & Stories

It read: "At about noon yesterday, Emily and Tony, the song writing duo recently embroiled in controversy over the use of their award winning song by Isabella and Isaiah Morov were found dead in Tony's apartment. It is believed that the murdered gained access to the apartment at about 3 o clock after which he brutally murdered the two songwriters. There was no evidence of a weapon being used. As at this time, there is no suspect but law enforcement agents are currently working on solving the face. If was also found that a neighbor of Tony's had also been murdered in her apartment. Officers are unsure if there two incidents are related." "I-I can't believe this," I whispered. A feeling of dre

I'm really sorry miss, I didn't see you,’Alma apologized profusely, it was good that the cup was tight and the hot coffee didn't spill on her. "Can't you watch where you are going you filthy human," Lena said and walked off without looking back. Alma was astonished why she would refer to her as a human but her attention was drawn to the screen where an image of Damien and that of his father was being shown. Up until then they hadn't captured the two. Several mysterious murders which added up to two thousand in the last one year could finally be resolved as the mystery behind it was now unravelled. The news anchor also spoke about the survivor of the ordeal who was still receiving treatment a

The screen loaded, and a list of old news articles popped up, the dates flashing across the screen. I scrolled through the articles, my eyes quickly skimming the headlines. Most of them seemed to say the same thing; unresolved, no leads, mysterious circumstances. But then, one article caught my attention, dated a few months after the initial reports. "Case Closed: Female Student Responsible for Brutal Murder of Prestige School's Guard," the title read.

“I’ve been writing, too.” I stared at him, utterly stunned. “You? Writing?” He laughed, a rich, joyful sound that carried on the wind. “Don’t look so surprised. You’re not the only one with a story to tell.” He pulled a small, black moleskine notebook from his coat pocket. “It’s not a memoir. It’s… well, it’s a mystery. About a grumpy, retired surgeon who gets pulled into solving a crime in his sleepy coastal town.” I burst out laughing, the sound mingling with the crash of the waves. “Arthur! You’re writing a murder mystery?”

Maybe I can read something to pass the time and occupy my mind for a bit. 0 I read through their titles and they definitely have a favorite genre. ‘The Hound of the Baskervilles’, ‘Murder on the Orient Express’, ‘The Woman in White’, ‘The Maltese Falcon’. I sense a mystery theme here and I wonder if it’s Stefan or his wife that’s the fan. I keep looking when I see a book that is quite out of place. ‘What To Expect: A Mother’s Guide To Her First Pup’ 0

This is the second time I'm a suspect on a murder case, and not just any murder case, murder case of my best friend. Don't you just love life?

“You really believe in that man, don’t you? That’s adorable. But let me break it to you...right now the cops and the feds are combing through town looking for him. Do you know why?” I shook my head slowly, my chest tightening. “Why?” Murphy’s smile stretched wider. “Because apparently your precious Myles murdered the mayor and his wife.” My heart dropped. “That’s a lie!” I shouted. “Myles would never do that. Never!” Murphy shrugged, pretending to look innocent.

He wasn't unhinged enough to defy the police outright—not yet. "A misunderstanding? You've been standing outside my door all this time, and you call it a misunderstanding?" "No, I—I… I just—ah… you—" His words tangled into a stutter. He always tripped over himself when nervous, I remembered. I risked another glance through the peephole. His face was flushed red, and his body fidgeted with restless anxiety. He spun in place like a trapped animal—hardly the image of a cold-blooded murderer.

’ 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.

Alice and her squad were still at the crime scene investigating the homicide that had taken place. They were looking for any possible clues to find the murderer. Right about now she was interrogating the two neighbors if they noticed any unfamiliar occurrences last night. Mr Oscar said he was sleeping soundly last night and didn't hear anything odd in the neighborhood. "Or honey did you hear anything?" Mr Oscar asks his wife and she nods. "I heard screams" Mrs Oscar and Mrs George the second neighbor answered in unison.