Status: One shot, sooooo done.
High Heels And Red Lipstick
High Heels And Red Lipstick
You could hear the clanking of her high heels against the hardwood floor, marking her presence. And to my surprise her face cleared from makeup, appearing with her face bare for the first time in years. If you looked not long, but carefully enough you'd notice things I notice. First the skirt. She's always wearing perfect clothes in perfect condition. No wrinkles, no stains. There is a slight appearance made by coffee, something not unusual for a business woman like her. She was in a hurry. The key of her hotel room was apparent, almost falling out of her pocket, but not quite there yet. Now I know how she started the day. Well, at least some bits of it.
You see, I'm good at characterizing people and concluding what they were doing that day just by one look. Many make fun of my 'talent', as was said by only one person ever. But mostly people think I'm a weird little nobody who likes to watch and observe in the creepiest ways possible. That's not like me though. I just notice things that others don't.
Now, notice the lack of tan on a certain part of her ring finger. She's married. Or at least she was. But no, by the way she was hiding behind the door; only slightly peaking for a few seconds reveals that she is indeed still married.
„Alright, kiddo. I think you should go home now. Nothing more to see here.“ An officer dared to speak. He doesn't really acknowledge all these facts, like the faint traces of lipstick on the deceased tie, both being a close shade of red. It must have been older, though. Maybe a week or so? I took one more look around the room before exiting. I already know way more than that officer could figure out in a week. The door wasn't broken into; no damage has been made to it. No apparent signs of struggle, so there was no way the victim could've known for more than 3 seconds. Once passing his secretary, the fake looking blonde I knew she's his mistress, only his wife had no idea. But somehow she figured out he was cheating. Now I need to know how, to prove that there was a motive. Of course, there was no way I could talk to anyone about this before the case is solved. I give it till evening.
I waited out for 2 hours while the police wrapped it out on the crime scene before b&e (breaking and entering). Walking the empty halls of the business building filled with secret affairs; whether it is love or business. It's all about sex and money. How pathetic. How dull. And obviously stupid. No one makes not even a slight effort to hide their sins. I walked into the office, putting together the story. Only one thing I need to confirm it. Walking over to the secretary's desk to put the last piece of the puzzle together, I opened the second drawer on the left side of her desk. Yahtzee. Red lipstick, matching the shade of the one from business man's tie. But something was off. I couldn't place it, not yet. There are a few more places my eyes need to scan.
There are only two possibilities circling my brain. And that means I need to make sure before I shoot, what it appears might be blanks. Having stolen deceased’s address book, I know where to head first.
<i>Secretary’s flat</i>
Cheap perfume filled the air and my lungs almost gave out. If you can’t buy a decent perfume, don’t bother buying the cheap stuff. I walked around, noticing how messy her flat is. Clothes all over the floor, unwashed for weeks, I presume. Floors filthy, dried stains on the carpets, dirty dishes in the sink. And then I noticed it. Picking up the item and examining it closely, I pieced together the whole picture. I know exactly what happened.
Her tear stained cheeks were now powdered, but with no traces of lipstick or mascara. She walked through the door into her husband’s office and threatened him with a gun. Oh, but she wasn’t the one to pull the trigger. The hand gun never got any action. No, the sniper in secretary’s hands is the one that fired. But with no practice whatsoever and never have fired the gun, the secretary was sure to make a mistake. The one that should’ve been lying on the ground was the wife, not the business man. She missed by a whole 3 meters and shot the man she’s been having an affair with right when he turned around, on wife’s orders, I’m sure. She wasn’t able to look him in the face and shoot him. She still loved him, after all. The shot made the man turn 180° and he fell on the ground, making it seem like his murderer was on the other side of the room. The window was opened, which would explain why there was no glass on the floor.
A clever move, but not clever enough. The wife was in on it. The item I picked up cleared that up. It was the room key. A hotel room key, to be exact. From the same hotel, the same number as the one that was hanging from the wife’s pocket. That lead me towards the kitchen and the cold coffee on the table; two cups. Both with the same brand of lipstick on it. One red, the other light pink. And as I recall, that was the one the secretary was wearing. The other one… it belonged to the wife. The secretary was only brought to the story so that the wife could get rid of her husband. And I bet that in that hotel room was all the evidence the police would need.
Anonymous letter? Let’s go with that this time.
You see, I'm good at characterizing people and concluding what they were doing that day just by one look. Many make fun of my 'talent', as was said by only one person ever. But mostly people think I'm a weird little nobody who likes to watch and observe in the creepiest ways possible. That's not like me though. I just notice things that others don't.
Now, notice the lack of tan on a certain part of her ring finger. She's married. Or at least she was. But no, by the way she was hiding behind the door; only slightly peaking for a few seconds reveals that she is indeed still married.
„Alright, kiddo. I think you should go home now. Nothing more to see here.“ An officer dared to speak. He doesn't really acknowledge all these facts, like the faint traces of lipstick on the deceased tie, both being a close shade of red. It must have been older, though. Maybe a week or so? I took one more look around the room before exiting. I already know way more than that officer could figure out in a week. The door wasn't broken into; no damage has been made to it. No apparent signs of struggle, so there was no way the victim could've known for more than 3 seconds. Once passing his secretary, the fake looking blonde I knew she's his mistress, only his wife had no idea. But somehow she figured out he was cheating. Now I need to know how, to prove that there was a motive. Of course, there was no way I could talk to anyone about this before the case is solved. I give it till evening.
I waited out for 2 hours while the police wrapped it out on the crime scene before b&e (breaking and entering). Walking the empty halls of the business building filled with secret affairs; whether it is love or business. It's all about sex and money. How pathetic. How dull. And obviously stupid. No one makes not even a slight effort to hide their sins. I walked into the office, putting together the story. Only one thing I need to confirm it. Walking over to the secretary's desk to put the last piece of the puzzle together, I opened the second drawer on the left side of her desk. Yahtzee. Red lipstick, matching the shade of the one from business man's tie. But something was off. I couldn't place it, not yet. There are a few more places my eyes need to scan.
There are only two possibilities circling my brain. And that means I need to make sure before I shoot, what it appears might be blanks. Having stolen deceased’s address book, I know where to head first.
<i>Secretary’s flat</i>
Cheap perfume filled the air and my lungs almost gave out. If you can’t buy a decent perfume, don’t bother buying the cheap stuff. I walked around, noticing how messy her flat is. Clothes all over the floor, unwashed for weeks, I presume. Floors filthy, dried stains on the carpets, dirty dishes in the sink. And then I noticed it. Picking up the item and examining it closely, I pieced together the whole picture. I know exactly what happened.
Her tear stained cheeks were now powdered, but with no traces of lipstick or mascara. She walked through the door into her husband’s office and threatened him with a gun. Oh, but she wasn’t the one to pull the trigger. The hand gun never got any action. No, the sniper in secretary’s hands is the one that fired. But with no practice whatsoever and never have fired the gun, the secretary was sure to make a mistake. The one that should’ve been lying on the ground was the wife, not the business man. She missed by a whole 3 meters and shot the man she’s been having an affair with right when he turned around, on wife’s orders, I’m sure. She wasn’t able to look him in the face and shoot him. She still loved him, after all. The shot made the man turn 180° and he fell on the ground, making it seem like his murderer was on the other side of the room. The window was opened, which would explain why there was no glass on the floor.
A clever move, but not clever enough. The wife was in on it. The item I picked up cleared that up. It was the room key. A hotel room key, to be exact. From the same hotel, the same number as the one that was hanging from the wife’s pocket. That lead me towards the kitchen and the cold coffee on the table; two cups. Both with the same brand of lipstick on it. One red, the other light pink. And as I recall, that was the one the secretary was wearing. The other one… it belonged to the wife. The secretary was only brought to the story so that the wife could get rid of her husband. And I bet that in that hotel room was all the evidence the police would need.
Anonymous letter? Let’s go with that this time.