Murder On The Orient Express Novels & Stories

"He disabled the brakes, then injected Baclofen into William before he got into the car. It was a perfect murder." Olivia was furious; it turned out that the one who murdered her Grandfather with such perfect planning was Maximillian. And now he was outside, receiving condolences, pretending to be a dutiful son. Yet, he was the cold-blooded killer. The two of them now had to find Oscar's clue to prevent Maximillian from seizing the assets her Grandfather had left behind.

Almost everyone looked sad, or they were very good at pretending. ‘I’m terribly sorry for your loss. A very elegant lady Miss Arora,’ said the inspector solemnly, nodding and reflecting on a previous meeting with Esha. ‘This is a case of murder. The room seems to be untouched ... Nothing is missing ... The victim was found wearing a camisole and a black trouser. She has a severe bruise on her head. It is murder, alright. Ah! A terrible affair. Everything points to the fact that the murderer got away, at least for the time being. I gather that she was last seen at 4.30 by the housemaid?’ ‘Yes,’ Jyoti croaked from the corner. ‘I see ...’

"How could you even think that about me? Yeah, I survived, but I was a victim, too. And now, just because of one photo, you're calling me a killer? Do you have any idea how much that hurts?" I swallowed hard, my voice breaking. "I said I probably fell asleep around 10 PM. I never said I was sure. My head was spinning from the altitude, and I wasn't clear. And come on—I'm just one woman. How the heck could I take out five grown men?" Alex's stare locked onto my face. "Yeah… doesn't seem likely." Just then, the coroner walked in with a fresh report, the pages still smelling like ink. He handed it straight to Alex.

I look up at him, hands on knees, and ask, “What makes him so sure the murders are connected to Tibet?” Norbu steps behind the reception desk, opens a drawer and roots around in it. At my approach, he sets a folded tabloid on the desktop and glances around the lobby furtively before opening it to a dog-eared page. The blocky headline proclaims DOYERS STREET SLAUGHTER over a lo-fi newsprint photo in garish colors. The blood looks like cherry syrup, but the photographer soaked up a lot of it, probably from a fire escape with a telephoto lens before the cops covered up the dismembered body. It’s hard to extract details from the halftone dots, but I’m pretty sure I see bones jutting out of raw m

She had slammed right into the innocent victim. Zachary saw the footage too. Just before Gigi was arrested by the police, Zachary rushed to Gigi's house in a frenzy and stabbed her. It felt like he had looked up the most effective way to kill someone. As soon as he stabbed her, blood gushed out of her. Gigi crumpled to the floor, her eyes wide with shock. She died before the ambulance even got there. The police were alerted and came right over to arrest Zachary. Looking into the camera of a surrounding spectator who was recording on his phone, he tearfully cried out, "I've avenged you, Mom!"

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."

“Your situation doesn't look good. In fact, it would be easier if you just confessed.” I frowned. “Confessed to what?” He shrugged. “Attempting murder.” Chills ran down my spine. “Is this a joke? Because if it is, it's anything but funny.” The other detective, Eton Miles, scoffed. “We wish it was a joke, but we have quite solid evidence and an obvious motive.” My hands fisted. “What is that supposed to mean?”

The picture of the man whom he met the previous night in the departmental store appeared on the front cover of the daily. "Series of bomb blasts occurring in the state. Spread of chaos and tension among the people? Country's top crime investigators on a patrol. Who could be the person associated with the massacre, the prime suspect Sherlock Hanes and the most maleficent Italian mafia leader on a getaway." ***FLASHBACK - TWO MONTHS AGO*** It was the night of the new moon day and it was raining very badly. The cops were checking all the vehicles as the country's most wanted dangerous criminal was escaping the state's border.

Why was there no evidence at all at the crime scene? “So, the killer made a copy of the key, snuck into the house, and killed three people without leaving a single trace? Plus, he accurately foresaw the time you would arrive and finish everything before you did. He made sure you wouldn’t bump into each other, either.” Jay’s tone held an almost imperceptible hint of mockery. “The data from the autopsy report doesn’t lie. Cynthia clearly died later than the other two, and you had more than enough time to commit the crime. How do you explain that?” Jay was not loud, but his words were like a hammer as they struck me.

Stephen leaped on him, taking him down with him. "Steph". Ace called him but it was late. Callum saw his eyes flashing yellow. A bright yellow. Pupils dilated. Stephen had Adam's neck exposed as his fangs elongated and the last thing Callum saw was those fangs sinking in the crook of Adam's neck and then he lost his consciousness. It was too much for him. "Tsk tsk tsk. You let your wolf overpower you". Zol said unamused. Though they didn’t put any charge on Stephen for killing Adam, because they knew Adam had few things on his hands to be taken care of. But they were kind of disappointed.