Perfect Crime Novels & Stories

I rushed over to them, seemingly trying to find an explanation, "Tell me, why would I get fired?" They replied, "Because you're a tramp." Tramp. There it was again. Rachel also called me a tramp the day before. Daniel as well. What had I done? I looked at my reflection through the glass door. I was in a professional pantsuit. I was not in a miniskirt. My shoes were leather loafers, not stilettos. I was dressed properly without any thick makeup or strange clothes. I asked helplessly, "Tell me, why am I a tramp? What did I do?"

The judges didn’t agree, but they didn’t dismiss it either. I sat perfectly still, my eyes trained on Emilio’s empty seat. This was supposed to be the case of the year, the trial that would prove Palermo’s prosecutors could stand against the mafia. Instead, it was unraveling in front of everyone, and the people unraveling with it were the ones closest to me. Tommaso’s pride. Elena’s reputation. Bianca’s career. All of them collapsed under the weight of missing pages and empty folders–folders that I either stole or replaced. I had never felt better about committing a crime.

It's still bad, but at least he has some human decency towards our sister. Ashton Nord is the last one. And he's my favorite out of my brother's whole posse, if I'm being honest. He's pretty sweet, has morals and is kinda handsome, not gonna lie. Although, he basically is a walking god like the rest of them, but he doesn't take advantage of that by using it to lure girls in. No, like I said, Ashton is the only one with morals. But he's also really quiet and quite scary. I would make the argument to say that he can be the scariest out of all of them.

“All very neat and tidy.” “It’s nice when they work out that way,” I said matter-of-factly. “Yes, I’m sure it is.” She agreed. “But the thief is still at large. There were no fingerprints or anything?” I shook my head. “Nothing. He knew what he was doing. But, if he is or going be a serial offender, he’ll be caught one day,” I said trying to placate her. “His luck will run out eventually.” Our meals arrived. In the lottery of ordering, Kimberley Ashlyn Gere has triumphed. Her choice looks healthier and more appetising.

“The defense wants you to believe this was random vandalism. But random vandals don’t disable security systems with surgical precision. They don’t target specific storage areas while leaving everything else untouched. And they certainly don’t leave behind evidence that points to careful planning and coordination.” She paused, meeting each juror’s eyes. “This wasn’t vandalism. This was sabotage. And the defendants bet they could hide behind technical difficulties and convenient malfunctions. They bet wrong.” The jury deliberated for forty-seven minutes. When they returned with a guilty verdict on all counts, Camilia felt her knees go weak with relief and triumph. She had done it. She had beat

Harden said pecking Adele's lips before he left leaving her alone in the shower. Back at the apartment where the gangster where, Santiago walked into the apartment but immediately he stopped after seeing dead bodies on the ground. “Shit!” he cursed. “Amigo” he called out for his friend but he was nowhere to be found, immediately he rushed downstairs to the dungeon and found the place open. As he rushed back upstairs he saw three men in black holding guns pointing at him. “Looking for someone?” One of them asked as Santiago tried to run away, he was shot in his leg making him fall while another man walked towards him and knocked him unconscious….

I cursed in anger, trying to control my emotions. “You did good, Jason,” Jake said. “You did so well that we have the location of where she is.” He pointed to the monitor screens scattered around the room, where there was a red dot on the map. “We managed to track her through the call. The perfect crime doesn't exist. There are always traces left by the criminal. This Kendall may be smart and calculating, but she is nothing more than a cheap criminal who will fall right into our hands.” He had a look of triumph on his face. Jake Gardner was an excellent police officer, nothing escaped him. "Excellent! Just give me the address, and I'll go get my wife there,” I

Levi chips in for me. “Fine, it is on the first floor. By the way you shouldn't hide your pretty face”. Micah says smiling and that is when I look up to study his features. He is a pretty boy with a tanned skin and fading acne scars on his face. His black hair has red streaks, whoever his hairstylist is definitely knows how to do his job. “Take a picture, it lasts longer”. One of the boys snicker. Slightly irritated with that particular line I turn to him rolling my eyes.

“Hello, wife.” “I’m not your wife anymore. Let’s get that straight,” I seethed into the device, but my hands were trembling with trepidation. “You killed Camille.” He chuckled darkly. “How can you be so sure I did?” he mocked. “Because they found the murder weapon and it had your prints on it. You were never able to do anything right, so I wonder what possessed you to think you could execute the perfect crime. Why did you do it?” I replied condescendingly and gulped the lump of bile that had formed in my throat.

“Is it a glitch?” Clinton turned to look at Michael, his expression darkening. “No glitch Michael. To do this, you’d need administrative clearance. Someone didn’t just delete this, they scrubbed the logs so the system wouldn’t even try to back it up. This wasn’t an accident. This is an execution.” Michael stepped back, the cold realization washing over him. The police were supposed to be the keepers of the truth, but Raymond’s reach was longer than he had feared. The crime architect hadn’t just built the crime, he had demolished the evidence.