MuSR / Who is the most likely murderer?

question

Who is the most likely murderer?

narrative

In the sprawling vineyards of Napa Valley, where grapes for the finest wines are nurtured, the bitter taste of murder lingers as Detective Winston investigates the acid-killed corpse of wealthy vineyard owner Henry, with only the enigmatic Ruben and Michael as his prime suspects.

Winston adjusted the brim of his hat as he stepped through the automatic door, the smell of fresh flowers overwhelming his senses. He immediately took notice of the intense atmosphere, the air heavy, the shop's occupants quiet. Looking around, he saw Ruben, the owner of the florist's shop, immersed in his work—grinding powder in a mortar, measuring volatile liquids with a dropper, and then mixing it all.

"Busy I see," Winston remarked. 

Ruben glanced up, his bright green eyes flicking towards a book on the counter. Winston caught sight of the cover, reading 'Veterinary Medicine: An Essential Guide.' Ruben’s passion for learning was no new news. When he wasn't caught up in his flower shop, he was often seen engrossed in text about animal physiology, relating it to his plant biology knowledge.

"Just preparing the floral preservative mix for tomorrow," Ruben said, pointing towards the array of acids lined in front of him. "Acetic acid, my boy, along with citric and ascorbic acids - they all work wonders for a bouquet."

"You studied Chemistry, I've heard," Winston remarked casually.

Ruben smiled at this. "You need a sense for it in my line of work - keep the flowers fresh and so on. He peered at the detective over vintage spectacles, "We're a lot like the plants you know, animals. From the way we grow to the way we die. There's beauty in knowing the biology of it all."

Winston nodded, trying not to seem too interested. He noticed a customer coming out of the shop, a red rose in one hand with a distinct feather stuck to its stem - a feather lifelike, seemingly belonging to a bird species widely used in taxidermy.

Ruben's eyes lit up. "A bird feather, eh? Quite interesting.”

Winston didn't respond, simply turned to scan the shop, his eyes falling on a young girl huddled in a corner, eyes red with recent tears. That, he knew, was Ruben's niece. Word had reached him about the threats she'd received from a certain Henry, along with reports of Henry's inappropriate behavior toward her. It appeared to have escalated lately, visibly taking a toll on the poor girl.

Ruben noticed Winston’s gaze. “That’s my niece. She’s had a tough time of late." His words were somber, "We've had to handle some... unpleasantness. Threats from Henry, not to mention his behavior toward her..."

"Inappropriate behavior?" Winston asked, seeking confirmation.

Ruben nodded before sighing deeply. "Yes. That man had been threatening her, you know. His words, his actions... all wrong. Someone had to stand up for her..."

"I understand," Winston said. He picked up his hat and headed toward the door. As he turned around for one last look, he could see Ruben cleaning some glassware. A variety of corrosive chemicals, all meticulously labeled and aligned, surrounded him.

Winston leaned back in the shabby chair, hands folded, and stared unblinkingly across the table. Under the dismal light sat Michael, an archaeologist infamous for his carefree treatment of dangerous substances at the workspace. Michael was known for his reckless use of acid, a skill trained meticulously during his years at the archaeology institute studying the safe handling and disposing of dangerous substances. But he took this to a detrimental level, often taking home acid from work for his own personal use, much to people’s horror.

Michael was no stranger to trouble at work as well. He had been caught multiple times not only irresponsibly handling acid, but also indulging in drug use - specifically heroin. His frequent use often rendered him in states of significant intoxication.

"The vineyard incident, you were there Michael? Specifically in the secluded part where you had invited Henry to meet?" Winston asked.

Michael seemed surprised by the question but quickly regained composure. "Yes, I had invited Henry for a stroll around the secluded part of the vineyard. We crossed paths there quite regularly."

"Henry..." Winston whispered. Unfortunately, Henry wasn't just any other man for Michael. Henry's lifeless body was discovered soon after their encounter at the vineyard, right in the secluded area where Michael had invited him and where they were known to frequent.

"And you've used acid at work for artifact cleaning, right? Even took liberties to use it inappropriately?" Winston pried further.

"Yes," Michael replied curtly, with an ironic smile clinging to his face, “Taking it for a stroll from work to home wasn’t the best idea.”

Winston grunted, his gaze shifting to the visible injection marks on the man's arms. “You’ve been caught using heroin, haven’t you, Michael?”

Michael, almost seeming to read Winston’s thought, confessed, "Yes, heroin is my problem. Been caught for it more times than I can count."

"But it wasn't only your problem, was it, Michael? Henry... he knew and threatened to expose you,” Winston stated matter-of-factly.

Michael's confidence waivered. He stuttered, “Yeah... He did. He was going to tell everyone.”

"On records, you have intense training in handling acid and other substances,” Winston pointed out, “At the vineyard too, nobody saw you leave from the secluded part."

Michael fell silent. Fear was visible in his eyes. His hands clenched tightly into fists.

Standing up from the table, Winston concluded, “Looks like that day has cost you a lot, hasn’t it?”

For the first time, Michael's often intoxicated demeanor receded, replaced by a sobering silence.

choices

• Ruben
• Michael