City of IF

[Geek_girl72]

Piedmont & Sheridan Mysteries
Case 1: The Missing Motive




Blam!


The noise rang through the whole house, violently evicting its inhabitants from dreamland. Vickie was the first out her door, but upon entering the hallway she hesitated. Two doors down, a sleepy-eyed man of middle age emerged, and seeing Vickie, ran to her, sputtering out his sentences with a slight stutter.

“V-victoria! What was th-that noise? It s-sounded like a g-g-gunshot. Are you alr-right?”

“I’m fine Uncle Pete, but I think maybe someone else here isn’t…”

Several more doors slammed, and the hallway quickly filled with frightened voices and confusion. Two old ladies in their fifties, a small boy of about 9, his mother (who was hanging on to him so tight he could barely breath) a man with graying hair and a slight limp, together with Vickie and her uncle made up the knot of confusion in the hallway.

“What was that noise?” “Is the house being broken into?!” “Momma, are we gonna get shot at like Daddy?” “Someone call the police!” “No honey, we’ll be alright...” “This sort of thing never happened before the war…” “It’s just like the Movies!” “Oh, stop talking Mildred.”

“Everyone shut up!”

The confused cacophony of voices ceased when Vickie shouted over their clamor. Like a heard of sheep before their Shepard, they collectively stopped and looked to her for guidance.

“Nobody panic. First things first: is everyone accounted for? Where’s Dad?”

“Yes, where’s Frank?”

Pete added to the end of Vickie’s question. The group looked around them, searching for the pleasant-faced gentleman that should have been there with them. When it became obvious that he was absent, Vickie’s face went white.

“Dad!”

She half-whispered, and darted down the hallway and up the stairs before anyone could stop her. Pete, followed shortly by the rest of the frightened mob, ran after Vickie, but before they reached the top of the stairs a curious thudding noise echoed down to them. Upon reaching the upper hall, they discovered the source: Vickie was hurling her delicate frame against a sturdy oak door for all she was worth. “It’s locked!” She cried, and threw her shoulder against it again, wincing in pain. “Dad? Can you hear me? Are you okay?”

With effort, the others restrained her, and Pete together with the old limping man tackled the door. It was a sturdy door, and the five minutes it took to compromise its integrity was agonizing to the group. When it finally gave way, Vickie broke free of her friends and rushed into the master bedroom. “Vickie!” Pete called, trying to unsuccessfully to grab her arm, “Don’t-”

Vickie’s ear-splitting scream silenced her uncle’s warning.

* * * * *

“It was not Suicide!”

Vickie yelled at the Police Sgt., who was unfazed by the zeal of her conviction. He sighed, and with a condescending expression addresses the young woman.

“It’s always difficult for the family to accept, but there is no other conclusion possible. The doors and windows of his-I might add second floor room-were all locked from the inside. It was a well-known fact that he’d left all his money to charities, so no one stood to gain anything. Death was caused by one shot through the left temple. The gun was found in his hand, with no other fingerprints. The victims wife passed away only a week ago, that’s reason enough in my book for ending it all.”

Vickie looked back at the cluster of her friends and family, waiting for someone to support her, but they all just stayed in their various seats around the library fire and wouldn’t look her in the eye. A rather pudgy officer of low rank entered the room, and announced that the examination of the crime scene was completed. The Sgt. gave a half-hearted, standard expression of sympathy, and left the room. The rest of the company slowly trickled out after him, except Vickie, who pulled a carton of cigarettes from her pocket, and searched unsuccessfully about her person for a lighter.

“Here.”

Vickie started, and looked up to see the rotund officer was still in the room, and offering his own light. Vickie muttered her thanks, lit her cigarette, and took a long drag. The officer regarded her a moment before speaking.

“Sgt. Elliot is a fool.”

“Huh?”

“Sgt. Elliot, he’s not the sharpest knife in the drawer, absolutely no idea how he got promoted. My name’s Harris by the way, Fred Harris.”

“Victoria Meadows, but I’m sure you already knew that. So what does one do in situations like these? When the police assume they know more about a person than his own family...”

Vickie had meant it to be a rhetorical question, but to her surprise Officer Harris smiled mysteriously.

“What one does is call for re-enforcements.”

“What do you mean?”

Officer Harris fished in his coat pocket for a moment and pulled out two cards. The name ‘Piedmont’ was written on one with a phone number beneath it, ‘Sheridan’ was on the other with a mailing address. Vickie took the two cards and gazed at them quizzically.

“Are these…business cards?”

“Well, sort of. But not for conventional businesses. That is the contact information for two of the best private investigators in the whole State of New York, possibly the country.”

“A private Detective? That…might actually help. I can’t believe I didn’t think of it myself. You’re, ah, not suggesting I hire both of them are you?”

“Oh, heavens no! They are two of the best, but they fight like cats and dogs to tip the compliment in their favor. I’d rather be back in the trenches than between those two.”

“Then which one do you recommend?”

“Well, that depends. Piedmont is much easier to get a hold of, but the price is certainly not cheap. Sheridan, on the other hand, would probably take one look at you and wave the fee. Humanitarian, you know. But by that token, can be a little…reckless. Not the most organized person you understand.”

Sgt. Elliot’s voice could be heard in the hallway, calling for his subordinate. Officer Harris tipped his hat at Vickie, and wished her a good morning. Vickie weighed what the friendly young officer had told her, looked at both cards in her hands, and bit her lip.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Sorry for the rushed nature of this introduction, I didn’t want to give away too much about the case until the actual investigation was underway. For those of you who haven’t heard about this yet, here is what’s going to happen: An auction will be held in the ‘Whodunnit?’ discussion thread, and the winner not only picks which detective Vickie chooses, but will outline their strategy for investigating (I’ll give them the details of the layout of the house and list of suspects so they won’t be just guessing) So let the first ‘Whodunnit?’ auction commence!

Note: Both detectives will be introduced in this first case, but the one that isn’t picked will have a very minor role. (Mostly just gripping that the other one beats them : ))

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[tramp in a storm]

Interesting. Very interesting. :lol: I also liked the font. Then again I'm a blind bat :D but I didn't need my glasses for it.

[D-Lotus]

Nice start! Simple, clear and crisp. The font doesn't bother me, either. :D

[Crunchyfrog]

It wouldn't now, you should have seen it before it was edited, I didn't even need my glasses for it! :lol:

Looks a lot better now though GG.

Very nice start, and the important details already look to be well set up. I'm going to be following this one closely as I have my own motives... ;) /shameless subliminal advertising

[Chinaren]

Nice start GG! I shall be interested to see how this one develops. My own Murder mystery was only half successful.

[Geek_girl72]

Quote: It wouldn't now, you should have seen it before it was edited

Yes, the type was a little wacky at first, my thanks to Zepher for pointing that out ;)

[NeverNeverGirl]

WOOT! good start there - i am looking forward to seeing how this plays out... :P

[Geek_girl72]

Thanks :D I just wish more people were bidding, my clever get-rich sceme is failing! Auggg!

[Geek_girl72]

Just one more day for the Auction... :shock:

[Cyberworm]

Sorry to have missed the bids, but I were and still am a bit poor. :) The fable deficit is constant in my case. So, how is the chapter going? I will try to be more active, although I'll need to make some Fatbacks first...

*goes to make fable molds so he can start forging money...* :D

[D-Lotus]

GG will be absent temporarily, so I'm guessing this story is on hiatus.

[Geek_girl72]

(this a bit of an in-between scene to set up the story before I get the investigation details)

Piedmont & Sheridan Detective Agency: New York

The esteemed Mr. Peter Sheridan was greeted by the sound of a typewriter clicking at an alarming pace the moment he stepped through the door. Marcy, the secretary, was sitting at her desk against the back wall and hammering away at the said device as if personally offended by its existence. He gave the usual morning pleasantries, and was returned by Marcy’s typical grunt of recognition. In the three years Marcy had worked at the Agency, Peter had never heard her speak more than five words together or look up from her typewriter, leaving him to wonder if the left half of her face matched the side that was presented to him every morning. A muffled voice wafted from the back office, causing Peter to pause as he hung his coat and hat on the rack by the door.

“Marcy, is there a customer here this early?”

“Phone. Go in.”

Marcy replied without moving her head from its slightly inclined position over her work. Peter pushed open the door to see his partner Lucile Piedmont replacing the receiver on the cradle. She picked up the paper on her desk and began twirling a strand of her ginger-colored hair around her finger without looking at him. Lucile was even worse than Marcy at making a person feel welcome.

“Morning Lucile, what was the phone call about?”

“Morning Pete. It was Joey; he said those pictures for the Marlow case are ready.”

“Oh…”

Peter trailed off and shuffled to his desk. The Entertainment section of the paper was waiting for him next to a hot cup of coffee. He smiled briefly to himself. Lucile might not have been much on the social graces, but she could be thoughtful in her own way. He sipped his coffee slowly, and pretended to be reading his paper while he spoke up.

“Ya know, speaking of pictures, I hear there’s a Clark Gable flick playing tonight. It’s supposed to be a good one, maybe after work we could-”

“Pete,”

Lucile set her paper down and directed her green eyes at her partner. Peter grimaced inwardly. He hated when she looked at him like that, like she was looking for something she didn’t really expect find.

“Pete, we’ve been over this: I don’t want to go to the movies with you, or anywhere else for that matter, stop asking.”

Peter cleared his throat and decided to try a different approach. “But why not? I’m charming, brilliant, with a wonderful personality, what’s not to love?” He flashed a lopsided grin to finish, but his weak attempt at humor was completely lost on his colleague.

“Well for one thing, you bite your nails.”

Peter frowned. “I do nothing of the kind. Seriously, what’s the hold up?”

Lucile paused for a moment, contemplating. “You really want to know?”

“Yes.”

Lucile reached for her own coffee cup and took a drink before responding. “Well, to be perfectly honest, I don’t find you the least bit attractive.”

She picked up her paper again, and if it wasn’t for the briefest hint of a smile that crossed her face before the paper obscured the view, Peter would have believed her.

The phone rang again. Lucile absent-mindedly picked it up, her attention still on the news. “Hello?” She murmured. A second later she sat bolt upright, dropping her paper and knocking her coffee cup off the desk. It shattered when it hit the ground, sending a caffeinated explosion all over the floor. Lucile didn’t seem to notice, but kept the receiver pressed to her ear, interjecting the occasional “uh-huh,”, “Really?”, and “I see.” into the conversation.

Peter rose slowly from his chair. “Oh, no, don’t get up. I’ve got it.” He muttered, and started hunting for something to clean up the mess. He found some wadded up napkins in the waste basket, and set to the task just as Lucile hung up the phone and dashed out of the office. He could hear her speaking excitedly to Marcy, and a moment later she entered the office again with her coat on and holding Peter’s own outdoor trappings in hand.

“Pete! We’ve got a hot one. There’s been a Murder in New Hampshire and the idiotic police up there are calling it a suicide. We’ve got to get to the station though because there’s only one train to-”

Lucile noticed the muddle of coffee and broken ceramic for the first time and started. “Peter? What on earth did you do?”

Peter sighed a weary, long-suffering sigh and shrugged. “I guess I’m just clumsy.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * *


Meadows Estate, NH

Lucile let a low whistle escape as the cab pulled up to the imposing structure that belonged to the Meadows family. Three stories of Victorian elegance frowned down at her and Peter in a way that made Lucile shiver.

“I have a strange feeling that I should be ashamed of something, Pete.”

“Too bad you have no shame.”

Lucile shot Peter a sidelong glance at her partner as the cab came to a stop. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Peter climbed out of the cab and paid the man his fare.

“I mean you have a tendency to be a little…blunt with people.” Lucile rolled her eyes, but didn’t try to refute the point. The cab pulled away, and Peter continued. “I know you like to take the…shall we call it the direct approach? But this is a sensitive situation.”

“Is murder ever anything else?”

“You know what I’m trying to say Lucile. You don’t have to buddy up to the clients if you don’t like them, or put on a front or anything. I’m just saying that this is the biggest job we’ve gotten in a while and I want to keep it; So just please try not to be so…so…”

“Me?”

“Exactly.”

Lucile muttered something under her breath that Peter didn’t catch, and the two walked slowly up to the door. Ready to begin the investigation.


....to be continued...

[Argonaut]

Very nice introduction, I like the way Piedmont and Sheridan interact... also that you snuck the name Marlow in there :)

[Mattheus]

Very interesting so far. I am liking it.

[DeadManWalking]

....

My head hurts.

Didn't you say that the two detectives fight like cats and dogs?

Also that they charge differently.

Yet, if they are part of the same agency, then how would that work?

I have been contemplating this conundrum for a long time (at least sixty seconds!!!!!!!!!! (which is long for my brain (bunny!))), and I don't get it.

Tell me why before my brain explodes from overuse!!!!!!!!!!!!

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

*decapitated body falls to the ground*