MuSR / Who is the most likely murderer?

question

Who is the most likely murderer?

narrative

In the heart of a verdant rainforest, Isla had tragically met her end by a lead pipe, prompting Detective Winston to start sifting through the eerie silence, with Jesse and Brian as the prime suspects.

Winston frowned in concentration while browsing through the piles of family photos placed tastefully on a side table at the ceremony.  Isla, the beautiful young woman, was the star in almost every picture. Winston scanned every photo meticulously, but Brian, who had been a janitor for the family for many years, was nowhere to be found.

His attention was diverted from the photographs when the back door of the mortuary creaked open, and Brian stepped in hesitantly. He seemed self-conscious about his tardiness, his back hunched and his gaze darting around the room. Winston glanced over at the service in progress. Brian wasn’t mentioned as a friend or a relative during the service, but he stayed until the end of the burial, lingering as the crowd started to disperse. His aloof demeanor piqued Winston’s interest.

The next day found Winston scanning the tools in Brian's workspace. As per his janitorial duties, Brian handled an assortment of tools, the most common of which were lead pipes. His workspace deep in the jungle revealed that he had been working there for many years, in fact, over a decade, blending his job with nature, dirt, and rust.

Winston remembered that a witness had seen Brian cleaning in the rainforest, a lead pipe in hand, on the same day Isla’s body was discovered. Brian was probably mending a burst pipe he had mentioned to Winston during a casual conversation. The rainforest, where Isla had been brutally murdered, was - oddly enough - a second home to Brian. Rainforest cleaning sounded strange to Winston but perhaps that was the way of life here.

The rainforest echoed with the sounds of both man-made and natural life around him. Winston watched the intricate work Brian was involved in. As the detective, he mused, "So, I hear you've been here a while," while eyeing Brian maneuver a lead pipe he was using to fix a water valve.

"Yep, over a decade now," was Brian's gruff reply, his hands occupied. He paused to wipe his brow with a grimy arm. "It's quite peaceful here, you know."

Winston's gaze lingered on Brian before he divulged, "You were spotted here around the same time Isla was murdered." Their eyes met for a moment before Winston disappeared back into the foliage.

Detective Winston leaned against his cruiser, his eyes tracking the locals as they went about their daily lives. Faces lit up and heads turned as the rhythmic sound of drumming floated through the air. The source of this daily ritual was Jesse, a powerhouse drummer whose status in the town was akin to that of a local hero—a status enjoyed due to his immense talent on the drums.

Winston watched Jesse for a moment longer, taking in the muscles that rippled in his arms as he played. His talent was undeniable, his every beat pounding out a rhythm that seemed to embody the heart of the community itself. He had spent countless hours practicing, strengthening his upper body and arms through his ceaseless devotion to drumming.

Breaking away from the crowd, Winston took the path that led through the rainforest. Evidence suggested that Jesse visited this place often—where he drew inspiration from the symphony of nature itself and penned down melodies. It was known that his best works as a drummer were composed here. Wandering deeper into the rainforest, Winston couldn't help but try to see this place as Jesse might.

A few days ago, Jesse had overheard Isla's nervous whispers about her intent to confess something incriminating to the police, something concerning Jesse himself. The knowledge threw him into a state of unease. Fearing what Isla might reveal about his involvement in illegal activities—activities she had discovered herself—had let the rhythm of Jesse's drumming take a harsher beat. 

An association with a metalworking shop came up during the preliminary investigation.  This was the place where Jesse had learned to customize his drumsticks himself, favoring lead piping instead of the usual. It was a small token of uniqueness he added to his music but somehow felt out of sync with the rest.

Returning to his cruiser, Winston pulled out a notepad, flipping to a blank page. Isla's name was written at the top, her connection to Jesse much more than casual. In her possession were the evidence of Jesse's illegal activities capable of damaging, if not entirely ruining Jesse's career and standing in the community.

The pounding of the drums echoed through the stillness of the rainforest, lending an ominous tone to the otherwise peaceful atmosphere. Jesse was aware of his imminent predicament—an inevitable reckoning with his secrets, aided by Isla's confessions.

Another day in the town ended, and with it, Jesse's drumming ceased. But for him, his day was far from over. His routine entailed hours of practice and composing, maintaining his superiority in the art. Jesse's skill was a result of his consistent hard work and dedication, his muscular prowess a testament to both.

For Detective Winston, Jesse was a suspect, committing a crime possibly to protect a secret shrouded by the rhythm of his drums. As he drove away, the murmuring of the locals filled his ears, talking excitedly about Jesse's session for the day. A crime in the community, a rhythm disrupted. The chapter that unfolded was far from melodious.

choices

• Jesse
• Brian