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MuSR / Who is the most likely murderer?
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Who is the most likely murderer?
narrative · full text (6,377 characters)
In the glimmering lights and pulsating bass of the local roller rink, Wendy met her brutal end with a pickaxe, leaving Detective Winston the unenviable task of untangling suspect stories from Marianne and Sidney.
Detective Winston tapped his pen against the mugshot of Marianne. She wore the hardened expression of a seasoned miner, and a sprinkle of white dust beaded her forehead. She had, years ago, spent a considerable amount of time underground before she traded the pickaxe for a ring. Even after her marriage, however, Winston knew that Marianne was not unfamiliar with the heft and purpose of such a tool.
His eyes consisted of the audit papers laid out before him, declaring a significant debt that Marianne owed in back taxes. She was circling financial demise, and the state was closing in. Then, his eyes shifted to the statement provided by a friend of hers, highlighting her strong assertion that she would rather perish than get sent behind bars. It seemed to Winston that Marianne was still filled with the spirits of the old miners, willing to risk it all in pursuit of her own freedom.
His venture out to her parcel of land a few days back had stamped the image in his mind of her mining tools lounging out in the open. They were well-kept and clean, the way old miners kept their tools. Marianne had been spotted around the community with the pickaxe, using it for various garden works and general maintenance.
Now Winston's attention moved to Wendy, the victim, an honest lady known for her earnest ways. She was found in a sequestered section of the roller rink, a roller skate still hanging onto her foot as if she was frozen mid-skate.
Placing a call, Winston requested the CCTV footage of the roller rink from the night of the murder. There, in the flickering low resolution, was Wendy locked in a heated argument with Marianne. The dispute ended and Wendy skated off, but Marianne stayed.
Later, another clip showed Marianne lingering along the outskirts, long after the other skaters had left. It was an eerie sight - the roller rink was empty, except for the flickering neon lights and Marianne, circling the rink with an unsettling calmness.
Winston slid an envelope towards himself and carefully extracted a photograph. It was Wendy's last piece of brave detective work - a picture of Marianne caught in a grim action that served as undeniable proof of her crime. But it was Wendy, with her unwavering integrity, who held this tight to her chest, vowing to expose the truth about Marianne.
Two cups of coffee empty, Winston switched off the lights and left the room. The image of Marianne and the pickaxe lingered in the darkness of the office, the unsaid words and whispers of the CCTV footage bouncing off the walls. The unwelcome truth seemed to have found a perfect partner with the impending dawn, unflinching and relentless.
As Winston flipped through the case file, his eyes landed on a photo of the crime scene. His heart ached slightly for the young woman, Wendy, brutally murdered at the roller rink. The weapon of choice: a pickaxe. Not something you would typically see at a roller rink.
Entering the rink, Winston felt a shudder creep up his spine as he glanced at the spot where Wendy's body had been found. Shaking off his unease, he made his way over to the row of lockers where the staff pointed him to Sidney's locker.
It was well known that Sidney, a local geologist, was a regular at this establishment. Even given the oddity of a geologist frequenting a roller rink, Winston was familiar enough with murder investigations to understand that people, like rocks, had layers.
Casually, Winston made conversation, "You're here a lot, I hear?" Sidney nodded, almost dismissively, not yet prepared to show his hand. "I heard you often chat about your friend Jack, is that right?" Sidney nodded again, this time more cautiously.
"I find skating to be a wonderful escapism," Sidney murmured, while scanning the rink with a haunted look. His guard dropped slightly as he added, "And Jack...well, you know about Jack and his troubles."
From an interrogation room in the local precinct, Jack, a known criminal and Sidney's friend, gazed at Winston. Already serving time, he had nothing to lose by divulging information. As Sidney’s name left Winston's lips, Jack's eyes grew wide.
"He's a letter writer, you know. Always has been," Jack offered, unprompted. Winston thought curiously about the possible relevance of this. Jack continued, now with a dropped voice, "He cherishes the art of placing words on paper."
Caught off guard by the reverence in Jack's words, Winston's attention piqued at the news that Sidney was a common pen pal.
At the roller rink office, Sidney's tormented expression flitted across the screen of the surveillance camera footage. There he was with Wendy, both laughing and skating. The timestamp below the image – the night of Wendy’s death. As the staff had mentioned, Sidney’s presence during the hours coinciding with the murder fit. There was little doubt that he had been in the vicinity.
Winston packed his notepad away and left for Sidney's apartment. There, the detective found an abundance of stamps and stationary stacked neatly by the desk. A typewriter nearby indicated an air of old-school character. Jack's words suddenly resurfaced. Scanning the room again, Winston spotted a picture of Wendy. Beside it, a letter with Sidney's handwriting.
Hands in his slick black overcoat pockets, Winston glanced around the roller rink one last time before leaving. Stopping at the doorway, he turned around to Sidney, opening his mouth to say something before deciding against it. Winston remembered their previous conversation. "I have no idea what Wendy was talking about," Sidney had said defiantly when confronted with the secret Wendy had been spreading about him.
Suddenly, Winston remembered what he had heard in side conversations with Wendy's friends. The secret she knew wasn't just ruinous; it was humiliating. She knew something that, once revealed, would publicly disgrace Sidney.
With a sigh, he discarded the thought and walked out into the chill of the evening. His mind buzzed with unanswered questions. There was more to this case. More to Sidney. More to Wendy. To think it all revolved around a roller rink. He'll crack it open, he always does.choices
- Marianne
- Sidney
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