Murder On The Orient Express Novels & Stories

Detective Harry Macmillan was in an office at Scotland Yard, who had taken an oath herself, to find the murderer of Willemina Winchester; she was analyzing some papers, they were the notes on how the body had been found, with a couple of holes in the neck, some of the funeral service agents and others said with fear; "It must be a vampire", "or some demonic being", those were the rumors that ran through the streets of the city, in the other bodies that had been found the marks were the same, he had his fountain pen between his lips and his nose, he thoughtfully read each one of those notes.

He's lying there lifeless in a pool of his own blood, his white polo shirt ripped off at the chest and fresh blood oozing from what looks like a fresh wound around the left breast. My heart stops beating for a moment as I throw myself on his body, picking the murder weapon which is a Ceska pistol and throwing it beside him.. Placing my ear on his chest, I feel his faint heart beat and my face lits up. I try resuscitating him without minding the blood....that's when the unthinkable happens.. Sirens rent the warm afternoon wind! It was a set up! A damn fucking set up! It's already too late to redeem myself.

Heavy Footsteps followed, fucking lots of them with yellings about surrendering in the background. “Drop your weapon and surrender! You’re surrounded!” One of the cops yelled and I cursed hard and slammed the gun on the wall. The fuck? I walked toward the window, with the gun still in hand, and saw them. Twenty cops in formation, all geared up like they were storming a terrorist cell. There were dozens of flashlights, rifles, riot gear kiej they came for the devil from hell with my name echoing from the megaphone. “You are under arrest for the murder of Roman De Luca and illegal arms trafficking. Come out with your hands up, Leo Moretti!”

My gaze drifted to the news murmuring in the background on the TV. A fleet of police vehicles filled the screen, blue and red lights flashing in front of what looked like an embassy building. I was about to look away when the caption caught my eye. Breaking news: Murder at the Tibetan embassy in New York. I froze. Then gasped. My fingers fumbled for the remote and I turned up the volume. The reporter’s voice filled the room, professional and completely detached from the panic surging through my chest. “Authorities confirm that Giancarlo Conti, a wanted trafficker and suspected mob leader, was killed earlier today during an attempted arrest…”

“I saw the reports this morning, Orlando. It was on the front page. Nightmare in beach house. Billionaire couple murdered.” He let out a pleased sigh. “My heart did a little leap.” Orlando had an impassive look on his face. Romano stopped in his tracks, almost immediately Orlando halted. He turned around to look at him, a wide pleased smile on his face. Orlando’s expression remained unchanged. His smile widened. This was what he loved most about the boy, a mindless killer, his mindless killer. “Come here, boy,” he opened up his arms to him.

So I went in ,how I'm I gonna move around, everything is fucking dark until I heard a feminine scream " ahhhhhhh who the freaking fruck are you " Yeah that old woman doesn't like saying the 'F' word. I hurriedly looked for my phone In my pocket. I turned in the flash light and reduced the brightness to the lowest so the killer wont sense it. I tip toed up the stairs when I got to the room I was hearing sound from I increased my phone light and blocked the rays with my hands. I opened the door and pointed the light and the killer tried fleeing through the window but I shot him . The bullet went past his neck and before he went down the window he showed his neck that I shot and it healed Insta

“So far none of the neighbours that have been spoken to saw or heard anything.” “Any clue’s to why he was murdered?” “He was a bit of a voyeur, it would appear,” I said, trying to attract the attention of the barman. “Had the telescope in his bedroom pointing across the road to the bedroom of a lady who didn’t seem to mind him watching her undress.” “How odd.” I finished my beer. “Same again?” “I’ve hardly started this one.” “Then put it to one side and have a proper drink. Not got anything else planned for us this afternoon, have you?”

My eyes welled up when I witnessed how pleased my father was, he was such a kind soul yet someone cruelly ended his life. As his agonizing scream rang in my ears, my attention was drawn to Dominic, who had murdered him. I expected my anger to surface but as soon as I looked into his soft eyes the same thought came into my head that there is something which I am missing, that still don't know the whole truth. This is the only thing that always pulls me back whenever I think of punishing him.

she said, looking at his partner who was looking at her intently listening to what she was saying. “The police did not find any object in the crime scene. Everything is clean, like it was a plan by the murderer. If according to the autopsy, the victim died not in strangulation, as we find marks of bruises in their neck but a head trauma. But there’s no fracture in their skull, or bruised that the object, heated them which a gigantic puzzle to what is the object used by the murderer, or what you think, any ideas? And they had one common that the Murderer seems obsessed with killing them.” Her brows puckered, clicking her tongue again, staring at her partner.

My mother, Samantha, believed I was born a liar. Because she was deceived by my father's sweet words in her youth and abandoned after giving birth to me and my sister, Mia, she harbored a deep, bitter hatred for lies. She begged a witch for two magic rings. The rule was simple: if the wearer lied, the ring would glow red and burn them with magic. Mia's ring never hurt her, even when she broke a vase and blamed it on me. But if I simply said, "I'm thirsty," my ring would sear my flesh until I screamed. At first, I tried to defend myself, but Mom would just say, "The ring doesn't lie. Only through repeated punishment can your wicked soul be cleansed." After thousands of burns, even I started t