Murder Mystery Pdf Free Novels & Stories

“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?”

“When we found him, he was dead.” Daniel cut me off. “In his own home. Murdered. “Time of death was around four yesterday afternoon. Before your company even left for the escape room. “The weapon was an axe. “And on the doorknob of his apartment, we recovered a fingerprint.” Daniel lifted a fingerprint comparison report. The red markings made my eyes ache. “After analysis, that fingerprint… belongs to you.”

A moment later, a piece of paper slid through the narrow gap beneath my door. The footsteps retreated in haste. I peered through the peephole. The hallway was empty. I didn't touch the note, afraid of smudging fingerprints. Instead, I crouched and read the words on it: I know the truth about Edmund's death. Come to the big banyan tree in Greenfield Residences at 11 p.m. Don't call the police. The note was crafted with meticulous care—letters cut out from newspapers and books, pieced together like a ransom demand, leaving no trace of handwriting.

"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."

"The document is for you. Sign it, and I'll spare your life. If you refuse, you'll both go over the edge." Conner remained on his knees, water still dripping all over his body. Floyd continued, "The rules are simple. Both of you will cross at the same time. The walkway is only about a foot wide, and it can't fit two people side by side. Whoever reaches the end first gets what they need. As for the other one…" He didn't finish his sentence, but his chilling murderous intent said it all. The moment Anisa heard "hemostatic medicine", a frantic will to survive flared in her gaze. She actually managed to pull herself up and drag her bleeding body toward the glass walkway step by step.

Still, because I had become used to the excruciating sensation of vervain, I chose to ignore that it was causing the skin on my hands to burn. I gave him a wink and replied, "That's for me to know and for you to never find out." This infuriates him even further since he quickly grabbed another book and began rereading it. "1775. Kurt Luke, accused of murder, was found dead by the creek. He was ripped to shreds. I've been to many different towns and heard stories about this. People are being murdered without any explanation. There is no evidence to support the case. They call it the Pearl. You never know who the victim is going to be, and you never know how they're going to die. One day, out

He nodded, “fine, the prisoner, Melody Cameron, has requested not to be completely mirandized, is that correct Miss Cameron?” I nodded and he spoke, “please answer with a yes or no.” I gritted my teeth and hissed through them, “yes.” He opened the file, “your being charged with the murder of Clifford Jackson.” My brows scrunched together, “who?” He placed a photo in front of me and I gasped at the sight, it was Cliff, my old neighbor, his throat had been cut, his eyes wide open and I pushed it away, “I didn’t do that and don’t put anything like that in front of me again.”

The policemen, realizing something was off from their conversation, brought them in. One of the policemen addressed Clifford, "Mr. Holmes, based on what we know, your wife was hospitalized after she developed lobar pneumonia. She passed away the night before Easter. The hospital explained that her death was a result of a heart attack triggered by emotional turmoil, but things seem to be more complicated from the conversation you shared with Ms. Harding."

she answered and he turned to Angela then gave her a nod which made her get up and walked about of the room and returning with some files. She handed it over to Sawyer and who opened the first file and turned it towards her so she could read. Drawing it closer to herself so she could read it better, she looked at the picture attached to the file. He had a scar on his face that drew from the top left side of his face to the right side of his jaw before her eyes scanned through the suspect's biography. Name: Dele Owolabi a.k.a Del D.O.B: 13 June 1987 Height: 168cm

Daniel grinned and they laughed. “ Which reminds me.” Sharon said, her face becoming serious. Reaching into her satchel,she pulled out a mini pamphlet and handed it to him. “ You need to check this out. I bought it on my way here.” Opening the front page, his eyes widened as he saw the headline : MAN KILLED BY WILD ANIMAL OUTSIDE UNIVERSITY GATE. Beneath the headline was a picture of a bloodied corpse. The man lay outstretched with his head twisted grotesquely . His shirt was torn and there was a bite mark on his neck. Similar to the one he saw on the previous victim.