I made a cover, looks like this:
Deaths by Garden’s View
I've told this story over and over and over again to every police officer and newspaper and magazine company and yet I have to tell it again? I guess that's what happens when you're practically present at a murder. Surprised? I'd think so. The name's Valdear Radinere and I guess I have to tell you my story now that I've spiked your interest.
It starts out with me walking down a street to a party one of my friend's was having, it was Friday after all. As I walked I heard two gunshots, not too close together, about five seconds apart, which came from Mr. Boddy's mansion. Mr. Boddy was a real big businessman, he owned some corporation that I don't care to find the name of now, but he was that kind of snobbish man who thought highly of himself because of his wealth. I don't like that kind of person.
After hearing the gunshots I quickly called my friend and told him I probably wouldn't make it to his house. While doing that I headed in the direction of Mr. Boddy's mansion fast as I could with my cell phone to my ear. The front gate was ajar, that’s the first thing I found off. Again at the door when I knocked it just swung open, sliding across the plush green carpeted floor softly. For a second I stood there with my hand outstretched, listening. I heard a door click open, then close with the same metallic click and quick footsteps on a marble floor, so I quickly moved inside and into the shadow of the doorframe. The footsteps continued but I couldn’t make sense of which way they were going, then suddenly they stopped and I heard a shallow gasp. What sounded like a younger boy murmuring came from down the hall mixed with choked sobs then shoes clacking on the marble floor again, faster and I could tell this time they were coming towards me.
First thing I saw was his white shirt then a boy younger than me came into the light from the open door. Just as he got to the doorframe I grabbed his arm and he jumped and yelped, turning towards me, his eyes wide with tears at the corners. I stepped a little into the light so he could see me then asked in a hushed voice, “What happened?” He only closed his eyes and shook his head. I sighed and, still holding onto one of his arms, strode farther into the house dragging the kid behind me.
Coming across a closed door with a faint glow emanating from the bottom of the frame I stopped and tried the handle, it wasn’t locked. I opened the door and looked around the room; it was a lounge with two deep red velvet chairs facing a fireplace that held a small pile of embers that gave off a warm light. In one chair sat a man in a black suit, looking completely at ease. I realized it was Mr. Boddy, but I knew something was wrong, his right eye, the one I could see, was glazed. Its normal dark brown looked faded and his usually ruddy skin seemed paler. He hadn’t moved either.
The kid behind me tried pulling his arm free but I held on and managed to get him into the room to look at him straight in the face. He was crying again, tears running down his cheeks and biting his lower lip. I looked into his turquoise eyes, “Why are you crying? What’s wrong?” I still kept my voice low; unsure if anyone else was inside. The kid just shook his head again, whimpering. “Answer me.” I told him, tightening my grip on his shoulders.
Finally he looked back at me, “Th-they’re dead” he got out, “All of them! That woman killed them and killed herself.” His eyes were wide and pleading for help. I softened my gaze and let go of his shoulders, “Would you mind telling me your name? I’m Valdear.” He sniffed and answered, “I’m F-Finny, the gardener.” Nodding I turned and stepped towards Mr.Boddy, who still hadn’t moved from his chair.
Standing in front of him, I found out why. Instead of a left eye he had a bloody hole, a clean shot straight through that eye and into the chair, on which a dark stain was spreading out from around the man’s head. I shuddered and looked away, but when I closed my eyes I got a picture of that hole in his head. Finny was staring at me nervously, poking his forefingers together. With one last glance at Mr. Boddy’s body I walked back to Finny who had a question in his eyes. I paused, “He’s dead. Bullet through the left eye.” Finny’s mouth dropped open a little as he stared at his former master.
Unable to stand being in the same room as the dead man I headed out of the fire-lit room and down the hall once more, but only a few steps. The next room’s door was open some, and inside I saw something black glint. I cautiously pushed the door open wider and gaped; a black revolver leaned against the vanity, but on the floor lay a pale woman, her auburn hair strewn around her. She looked asleep but I knew better. The pale of her skin wasn’t normal, it was a deathly pale. On the tiles near her mouth drops of scarlet peppered the bright white and more lay pooled right under it. Dead. Just like the man with her silver bullet.
Finny had stopped outside the door, his breathing quiet but ragged, he was holding back from crying again. I stepped out into the hall next to him and shut the bathroom’s door. Taking a deep breath, I looked at Finny, forced a smile, and kept going down the corridor.
We reached a room where Finny stopped in the doorway and bit his lower lip again. I peered in and saw around ten people, mostly older adults, strewn about. Each had stains of red on their clothes, the same small specks and pool near their mouths as the woman in the bathroom. “Poisoned…” I murmured and Finny nodded, fresh tears streaking down his tanned face. “They were my only friends,” he tilted his head down so his hair hid his eyes.
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I let Finny stay over at my house for the night; he had lived at the mansion for the majority of his life and had nowhere else to go anyway. Early the next morning I left out a note explaining I’d be out for a bit, then headed back to Mr. Boddy’s mansion. I hadn’t bothered to call the police yet, preferring to look around on my own first because I knew they’d just ask a bunch of questions and not get anywhere with the case for a few days.
Inside was the same as the night before, still and silent. Heading straight to the bathroom that held the woman I found that next to her lay a black cell phone, it was ringing. Not daring to answer I merely picked it up and looked at the number; 322-6234. When it stopped I let my breath out, realizing I had been holding it in. I stared down at the woman for a moment then turned and left, placing her cell in my pocket.
Back outside the iron gates I pulled out my own phone and dialed the police station. Taking a deep breath I thought over what I was going to say. Then when someone finally picked up I rushed my words, making myself sound frightened, “Last night I heard some gun shots coming from Mr. Boddy’s mansion! One of my friends is the gardener and he said that Mr. Boddy is dead but we weren’t sure if it was safe to do anything about it last night so-" The woman I was on the phone with cut me off with “Where are you currently?” I smiled, then in the same worried tone answered, “In front of his house… It’s on the corner of Wiles and Ferver.” She wrote something down then said, “Alright, just stay where you are, I’ll send someone down,” and hung up. I waited a second then called my house, Finny picked up sounding sleepy. I told him to meet me at Mr. Boddy’s house and he agreed reluctantly.
He arrived before the police car did, still looking half asleep with his blonde-and-green hair messy. The cop pulled up to us a few seconds later, got out of his car and regarded us with an air of importance. I had a worried look on my face, same with Finny, but he didn’t have to act. The cop himself seemed to worry Finny greatly.
After a quick set of questions the cop, whose name was Burt, lead us inside. We acted as if we hadn’t been inside the night before, being surprised and nearly overwhelmed by the deaths. Burt told us what he thought happened; it was fairly close to what I had come up with. “Judging by the platters of food on the coffee table in the lounge I would guess that Mr. Boddy had the woman over as a dinner guest. The food must have been poisoned, or at least what she had eaten because of hers and the servants’ deaths being so similar. Before she died, however, she must have shot Mr. Boddy through the hole in the bathroom wall with her revolver. How she managed the shot I’m uncertain, but she must be very handy with a gun to have made it,” he explained in his gruff voice as we stood in the lounge with Mr. Boddy’s body.
Outside again he asked us to go into his car, saying that he’d like to ask us some more questions back at the station. I knew it wasn’t just a question, he was ordering to get inside it in the nicest way possible. We climbed in the back seat and he drove us back to the station. Behind the front desk was, presumably, the woman I had talked to earlier. She looked up at us and gestured to the door on her right then went back to doing whatever it was she did all day, I didn’t care to look into it.
Burt ushered us into a small gray room, an interrogation room no doubt. It had a table and three chairs and a window on the side opposite the door. Behind the window stood another officer, who nodded to Burt as he came in after us. Finny and I sat next to each other with Burt and the window opposite us. For a few minutes the two police men just stared at us, waiting for us to do something. I stared back, straight faced and unblinking. Finny fiddled with a small seed he had found in his pocket, face downturned so they couldn’t see his expression.
Another, longer bout of questions followed. Mostly the same ones asked repeatedly with different wordings. Probably two hours of nonstop questions until they let us go. I stretched my arms behind my head and shot a glance at Finny, he seemed ok but it looked like he had an idea. “Hey Valdear?” he asked tentatively. I acknowledged him and he went on, “You know how you said that you found a cell phone on the woman who killed everyone?” I nodded, wondering where he was going with this. “Well I have a friend, he’s the best person to go to for any technology problem.” he looked at me, “and tracing phone calls.” I stopped. He stopped next to me and smiled cheerfully, “I bet he’d be happy to help us out!”
Low and behold, a half-an-hour later we were standing on this friend of Finny’s doorstep. Finny went up and knocked five times and a muffled voice from inside called “C’mon in Finny.” He glanced back at me, opened the door and went in. I closed it behind me, shutting off the light from outside and blinked. It was dark inside the house, only a faint light from small purple light bulbs in the floor illuminated the long hallway from the door. Finny happily marched down the hall and stopped when he came to a green light from the room at the end. “Hey Chase!” he greeted his friend, who lay back on the floor from working hunched over a computer. I halted behind Finny as Chase said hello in turn then shifted his head to look at me. He had messy tan hair with a green tint from the light in his room and pale blue-green eyes with fairly large dark circles under them. I guessed he didn’t get too much sleep.
“Well hello there newbie!” Chase exclaimed. “Welcome to my LED corner of the universe, how may I help you?” I just stared at him for a second, his LED corner of the universe? Chase looked at me expectantly so I fished around in my pocket and pulled out the cell phone I had picked up earlier and said, “Can you trace the last number that called this phone?” He rolled over, sat up, plucked the cell from my hand and inspected it. “Yeah, any particular reason?” he replied, searching through its files. “It may help catch a person who ordered a murder.” I answered flatly. Chase shifted his gaze to me, eyes shadowed, “I’ll do it on one condition.” he said darkly. “Whomever the number directs you to, you won’t kill them. I refuse to be responsible for someone’s death.”
A day later I received an urgent call from Chase requesting I come to his house immediately, so I did. When I came in he was sitting at his computer as he was at my first visit but this time scrolling through pictures of what I thought to be inmates or wanted criminals. I squatted down next to him and tried reading the names of the people in the pictures but couldn’t, he was scrolling too fast.
Eventually he turned his head slightly and started, apparently previously unaware I had been sitting next to him. “When did you get here??” he asked, surprise in his voice. “A couple of minutes ago, what are you looking at?” I gazed at the screen, now able to read the names because he had ceased his scrolling. “Criminals, wanted and jailed, and various drug addicts. I assume you know why?” he ended with a question and the answer was yes, I nodded.
Chase picked up the woman’s cell phone and opened it, “Miss Scarlet was her name, the owner of this phone. Notorious mafia member, and very good with a gun.” he cast a sly look at me, “But you know that. It’s beside the point anyway. She had been in the mafia under a boss with the initials of F.A.C., which is why I have this list.” he waved his free hand at the computer. “In the number that called, 322 were the first three digits, and if you look, F, A, and C are right on those numbers.” It was true, the way the letters were grouped on the keys, F was on 3, and A was on 2 along with C. He kept going, “And the rest of the number, 62342, could spell out various things, none of which would make sense. Except ‘Mafia’.” he said it deliberately, and I spelled it out over the keys. 6 was M, 2 A, 3 F, 4 I, and 2 A again.
Shifting back to face the computer screen Chase pulled up a window he seemed to have been working on earlier. On it was a picture of a man who had wiry gray hair that went down to his shoulders, dull brown eyes that were sunken into his head and a sparse mustache. His face was gaunt and had very pale skin like he had never been outside in his life. Next to the picture said:
Name: Francis Amos Chivalia
Age: 39
Mafia Boss; wanted for drug abuse and arranged murders.
Location: unknown
Reward: To Be Named.
I looked at Chase, he had a large smile spread on his face, “F.A.C” he said, “Mafia boss, wanted for arranged murders, it fits don’t you think?” I agreed, “His location is unknown though,” I stated. Chase nodded and pulled up another window, it was Google Maps, and there was a marked location. “Ah but that’s where the beauty of tracking calls comes in!” he said airily, clicking on the marking tab. A small description came up; it was 5455 Bōto St. in the city we were in. “And Bōto, my dear investigator, can be translated in Japanese to “mob”. Also back to the cell phone keys, 5-4-5-5 could be k-i-l-l.” Chase pointed out.
A few minutes of discussion later I was heading out the door, a paper of directions in hand, thanking Chase for his help. “No prob’, just come back alive, ok?” he laughed and retreated back into his dimly lit abode. I folded up the directions and placed them in my pocket then set off to my house to grab Finny and find this Mafia man. No way was I letting the police take the credit for ours and Chase’s work.
We stood in front of an old building that looked pretty run down but it did say 5455 and it was on Bōto Street, so it had to be the mafia lair. Remembering what Chase had instructed me to do. “Act like Miss Scarlet sent you before she died to tell him she was dead and her job was done. Chivalia can’t be all that smart if he didn’t make his number untraceable, it was easy to find their hideout. But if he didn’t need to make it hard to trace then I suggest you be careful. Mafia members are pretty cold blooded and won’t care if they kill some 20 year old. Killing you or a little kid would be the same as swatting a fly to most of them. Also, Chivalia’s a drug addict so it will be nearly impossible to anticipate what he will do at any given moment. He may seem calm on the outside but then when you turn your back pull a gun on you. I’m just saying be careful, ok?” Chase had been pretty prepared with instructions and warnings.
Entering was no problem, though soon after we both had guns at our backs, prodding us along a dark corridor. I hoped Finny wouldn’t get too freaked out over it all; I didn’t want him getting hurt. The corridor ended at a large ornate door which one of our captors pushed open revealing a well furnished room with a man in a black suit, wiry gray hair to his shoulders, a gaunt face and sunken eyes sitting in a large high-backed leather chair. ‘Chivalia,’ I thought, it was certainly him, Chase had been right. The men behind us stopped us halfway to Chivalia who surveyed us with his cold gaze. He waved a hand and the men left the room, then speaking slowly, his voice deep he asked, “Who are you?” I met his gaze, “My name is Valdear, Miss Scarlet sent us.” Chivalia raised an eyebrow, “Did she now? What does she want you to say?” he sounded amused. “She wanted me to tell you that she’s dead. The servants in the house were poisoned but by mistake she ate some of the tainted food. Before she died she did complete her job, he’s dead.” I informed him, keeping my voice steady. He tapped his fingers against the arms of his chair, pondering what I had said.
Then, looking at Finny he asked who he was. I paused, that was one thing I hadn’t planned for. Although Finny faced him, jaw set and said firmly, “I’m Finny, Mr. Boddy’s gardener. I just want to know why you killed him, it doesn’t matter to me that you did but I’d like to know the reason.” I was surprised, but didn’t let it show on my face. Finny looked determined to have an answer to his question and Chivalia laughed. “You’re the gardener hm?” he chuckled. “And you’d like to know why I killed your master? Well Finny the Gardener, I’ll tell you why.” here he paused, simply for effect. “He’s rich! Have you not seen his second basement?? It’s mountains of money, for he does not put trust in banks. Miss Scarlet gave me this information; she was good at meddling with people’s heads to make them show her what she wanted. I am upset she has died.” Finny controlled his emotions well, none of his thoughts displayed themselves on his face and he just nodded. “I never saw either of Master’s basements, just the ground and first upper floors. I didn’t need to go anywhere else.” he told Chivalia, who nodded.
I had one hand in my pocket clasped around a small capsule, which I then nudged out of the pocket. It fell to the ground, not making a sound as it landed onto my boot, luckily Chivalia didn’t notice it, he was too busy explaining about the second basement to Finny. I kicked it with as much force as I could muster; it flew across the room and popped on Chivalia’s forehead, then exploded. Chivalia started coughing as the smoke from the small sleeping-gas bomb surrounded him. I quickly leaned over to Finny and whispered, “Cover your nose and mouth, only breath through your shirt if you want to keep conscious.” He nodded and pulled his sleeve over his hand and covered the lower half of his face. I did likewise and strode up to Chivalia’s chair, whose inhabitant was now sound asleep.
Wrapping one of his arms over my shoulders I strained to pick the older man up. Finny came up to help me, and together we dragged the mafia boss back to the door. Opening it I found that the men from earlier were outside so I reached back into my pocket and threw another sleeping bomb at them. The one it hit cursed and tried to get out of the smoke but his movements were slow and he crumpled to the floor before he got very far. Pulling Chivalia along between us Finny and I hurried out of the building and started to the police station. Conveniently it was close to the mafia hideout and no cars passed us on our way.
I pushed the door open with one leg and held it as we got the unconscious man inside. Plopping him down on one of the seats I went up to the front desk, which was empty, and rang the little bell. A man with a coffee cup in hand came out the door to my left and looked at me, puzzled. “I’ve come about the murder of Mr. Boddy and the majority of his hand servants.” I said importantly, gesturing to Chivalia and Finny, who waved. “We’ve caught the man who arranged the murder. Francis Amos Chivalia.” The cop’s eyes widened and he put down his coffee. “Chivalia??” he said, obviously astounded. Hurrying back into the room he came from he gathered up some more police men and picked up Chivalia, taking him to a cell. One stayed behind to thank us. “What are your names boys?” he asked, a notepad in his hand. “Valdear Radinere,” I answered. “And Finny the Gardener!” Finny added, happy with his self-appointed title.
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It's long and stuff, I know :D 8 pages on word! Probly didn't need to be so long but oh well!! XD Hope you all enjoyed~
