1 Murder in the Library

mini Murder Mansion Mystery #1: Murder in the Library

"I can't believe this happened again," Allan moaned as he stood over the dead body.

Benji stood next to him, shaking her head, "What's worse is the police can't get here for over an hour and there's a murderer roaming around in Trubbleton."  She was referring to the large estate house that she helped Allan manage. They had turned it into a bed and breakfast retreat, and with over two hundred rooms, they could host quite a few people.

"It's no wonder they call this place Murder Mansion," Allan ran his fingers through his hair, making several tufts stand on end.

"I'm not going to give in to defeat. We have to lock the doors and guard the body," with one hand she tossed her copper hair over her shoulder and walked towards the huge Library doors, "And while we're in here, we can go over all of the facts we know so far."

A smile crossed his face. There was that beautiful personality that he adored so much. "I know he's dead," he was still smirking.

"Poor Mr. Body, he didn't have a chance against these ruthless guests," Benji ignored his humor. Truth was she didn't feel like laughing about a body being by her feet in the house she lived in. "It looks like a massacre in here.” There were books strewn about the room. One was even covering the body. On the floor, lay a gun, and beside it, a knife. Closer to the body was an ice pick and a few feet away, lay a dirty hammer.

“Why is there a hammer in here anyway? Of all things, who would bring that to a party?” Benji stared at the hammer.

Allan scoffed, “I was fixing some of the old shelves earlier. It’s my fault for leaving it here.”

Benji examined it closer, “I don’t see any blood on it, but it could have been wiped.” She stood up, glancing around the room until her eyes resting on a handkerchief covered in blood.

“Well, if we’re going to be in here a while, I better stoke the fire,” he walked over to the huge fireplace, where the flames were starting to die down.

Benji realized that the fireplace tool stand normally standing on the hearth had been tipped over. She gasped, “No! Don’t touch the poker. It could have been used as a weapon.” A light layer of ash covered the hearth, with a single footprint showing in the grey dust.

Allan stood up, staring at the footprint, “That’s definitely from a man’s pair of boots.”

Benji smiled, “Right, in fact they remind me of cowboy boots.”

Allan stared at the prints, “No way are they Amber’s little prints. She’s far too tiny.”

Benji looked at him, tossing her head to the side, “Don’t underestimate the power of tiny, little women. I’ve been told that she does all of her own house renovations. She knows full well how to handle a hammer and power tools.”

“Well, who do you think did it?” he stared at her, looking for a simple answer.

Benji crossed her arms, “Let’s me think. Who all was in here this evening? I remember Rusty standing around, stoking the fire. Coal was the last one in here before we came in.”

“I thought I saw Amber in here talking earlier this evening,” Allan face contorted trying to remember.

Benji narrowed her eyes, “Yes, before Emerald left in a hurry, but after Grayson left.”

Allan blurted out, “Coal. He was in here, angry as a hornet.”

Benji thought about it, “I think that was something to do with the argument that broke out between him, Body, and Amber.”

“I think that was what started this whole thing this evening,” Allan knelt over the body.

Benji furrowed her brow, “But that may not be the answer. All of them had motives.”

“No motive is reason enough to take another’s life,” Benji peered down over the victim. “Well, not justifiable in this case anyway.”

“What about Emerald? She left as fast as the spiked boots could carry her, drink in hand, sloshing all over my floors.”

“She had the ice bucket too.”

“Ice bucket,” Allan glanced around, eyes resting on the ice pick. “There’s no blood on it, but she could have cleaned it off in the bucket?”

“I don’t know. She’s the least likely one to have motive,” she pointed to the lipstick smears on Body’s lips, “Fuchsia pink.”

“Pink like Amber’s?”

“No, that’s brighter and more vibrant, more like Emerald’s,” Benji winked at him.

Allan drew his brows together, “But I thought she was dating Grayson?”

Benji shook her head, “Not sure, rumor has is that she is dating Rusty."

“Not good because Grayson has always been a jealous guy.”

“What about Rusty?”

Allan pondered, “He’s such a bitter man, getting as heated up as red as his hair,” Allan paused, staring at Benji’s sienna locks.

“Implying something?” she crossed her arms.

“No,” he tried not to dig a grave, “You’re as sweet natured as they come. He’s just mean and hateful. I think he has to be to ride bulls in the rodeo and all that cowboy stuff.”

She gave him a disapproving look, dropping her shoulders.

“Well, I just don’t know what Emerald could have seen in him. Out of all of them, he’s the only one who would have a gun.”

Benji examined the gun, “Wish I could dust it for prints.”

“Best wait for the police.”

She squinted, ducking lower to avoid the sunlight, “I can almost make out a large print.”

Allan walked over to have a look on the handle, “Large fingers. Just as I said, my word is on Rusty’s large hands.”

Benji smiled, “Maybe it was blackmail.”

Allan looked up, “Why would you jump to that?”

She held up a paper cheque made out to Mr. Body. “It’s from Amber’s bank account.”

Allan’s face blanched, “Ah, Benj, better not touch it. There’s a bloody fingerprint on the back.”

Benji dropped the cheque, watching it float in the breeze of the drafty, old Library, “A bloody print on the back?” The cheque settled on the discarded book, where she found it.

Allan looked puzzled, “But the fingerprint can’t be Amber’s. It’s too big.”

“Maybe it’s Body’s own print,” she looked down at his fingers, but there was no blood on his hands, only a tuft of grey hair. “Hmm,” she sighed, “The only one of our suspects with grey hair is Coal.”

Allan looked closer at the hair, “That’s not grey hair, that’s ash from the fire place.”

Benji’s jaw dropped as she went over to the hearth, where the dusty poker, caked with suit, was lying on the floor, “It’s brown hair with ash?” she covered her nose, trying not to sneeze.

Allan stood up, rushing over to her, wrapping his arms around her, “Don’t sneeze the evidence away.”

“Achoo!” she sneezed into his chest, “Oh, sorry.”

“No worries, it’s nothing,” he smiled down at her.

There was a knock at door, with the policeman opening the door.

She smiled, “Punchy! You’re just in time because I know who did it.” 

WHODUNIT?

Download the Clue Sheet #1 to help solve the mystery

Hint: Each person has one weapon, with one motive (except one person) and leaves behind one bit of evidence. 

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