Troubled Mansion

 

The mansion was dark and oppressive, with only candlelight to fight off the shadows. Everyone had been assembled in the study with the detective lighting the fireplace almost immediately. The maid, the cook, the gardener and the deceased’s brother and sister were all present.

The body had been found by the maid, who had been seen only moments before by at least two other people. The cook had been downstairs, blocked in the kitchen by the brother and sister. The gardener had been locked outside accidentally – only now just let in. That left the brother and sister were alibied by the maid and the gardener who was at the window.

The detective had been called only hours before by the deceased, who was worried that someone was trying to kill him. He arrived just as the maid screamed.

There were certain things to eliminate – such as everyone wanting the person dead – and all covering for each other. There was enough dissent in the house that it seemed implausible. Everyone liked the dead man, but each other not so much.

The body was examined, but nothing stood out as being suspicious.

The assembled people started to argue with one another. Accusations flew. Secret motivations were unearthed – though none of them seamed enough for murder.

Still the detective made note of the details and called for further investigation. Of everyone – only the gardener was free of trouble. Over the next week, the rest of the household was taken to jail, not for murder, but other offences – blackmail, various scams, money laundering and other forms of fraud.

It was only because of the death that the crimes had come to light. The gardener felt sad. Many felt that he was worried about his employment.

The detective took the man aside and said “Don’t worry, you’ve been left the house – and are free to stay here indefinitely.”

“It’s not that” the gardener said. “I just really miss him.”

“That’s what I was hoping you’d say.” smiled the detective. He lead the man to the fireplace. In the corner was a small note, charred but still readable.

It read “My family and servants are criminals, but they’ll turn on each other in a minute. I suspect the gardener is reliable, but I have to be sure. PS. I’m not dead, but burn this note.”

The man thought gone appeared at the top of the staircase and smiled. “I was right.”