Short story: The bloody lift

It was a sunny autumn day in London. I was stayed in one of the biggest hotels in the city. On this time of year London was great. I had a conference with famous journalists.

The wind began blowing just before I left my room. Two men and a woman was waiting for a lift so i decided to stay and to wait with them.It was impossible not to notice the one man. He was strong-looking and gray-haired, middle-aged. The other was round-faced with short brown hair. The woman was dark haired, youngish.

Suddenly my phone rang. It was my partner who had forgotten one document in our room, so she asked me to go back and to take it. However, I took the document, but the people and the lift wasn't there so I should call the lift again because i was late for meeting.

The lift came fast, but when the door was opened the picture was terrible. Blood, more blood and a numb, dead body. I started to scream, because I couldn't believe in what I see. It was one of the most terrible things I have ever seen.

After ten minutes police was in the hotel. All people was scared. One policeman asked me some questions, but I couldn't realise what had happened yet. All inside my head was the picture with the bloody lift.

A detective story

It was a hot summer afternoon in a small town near Manchester when the Sergeant phoned me. “There was a murder of a young woman” he said. She turned out to be one of my closest friends who lived in an apartment across my house.
It was crushing for me when I walked in the room and saw her pretty face limp and all in blood. She didn’t deserve to die… But I had to be a professional. The body wasn’t noticed for three days and because of the heat, it was very decayed. It was horrible. Other strange think was that the whole room was a mess which is very unusual for her – she was the tidiest person I knew. So that was definitely a murder. But who was the killer?
I had some suppositions. I went to talk to her ex-boyfriend first because I knew he hadn’t lived through the break up. He wasn’t very polite and he was all nervous while talking. I asked him when was the last time he saw her. He answered in defense that he wasn’t in her flat the last three days for sure. The only strange think was that we didn’t tell him when the murder was.
Then I went to talk to her present boyfriend who looked devastated. It was normal but there was also something weird here. If they loved each other so much, why didn’t he call her the last three days?
Was the murderer one of them? Or it was another person? Was it her ex-boyfriend who thought that if she wasn’t his, she won’t be anyone else’s? Was it her present boyfriend who was still jealous of her last man? It is still a mystery.


Dessy Tartova

Short Story: The strange mechanic

The strange mechanic

It was a freezing cold, a frosty night in London. A long line of paddengers queued impatiently for the 82 bus, stamping their feet in an effort to keep warm. An icy wind was blowing and temperatures had been below zero since just after midday. An earlier fall of snow had made the nearby small park look like aniced cake.

The bus came and the people went in. There was a grey-curly-haired, elder female. A dark-haired, smart-looking, tall in the middle aged man. A grey-haired, middle aged, tall, round-faced, of a mediun height male. And smart-looking with fair-hair woman.

The man with grey-hair was a mechanic and really interesting person. He was nervous and he looked every person in the bud, just like he was searching for someone or sometihng. And he was wearing suitcase. The bus was in front of a tunnel. When the driver drove in the tunnel it was dark. After a while the people were screaming because someone steals things from their bags.

When the bus stopped everything was in a mess. People couldn't find their bags or something really important like documents and other things. The person who stole the things had left his belt maybe because he was running. One old lady was had been shotted in the head and she was death.

Everyone remembered the person in the bus who was a mechanic. They looked at the belt and they saw that the things on it must have been carryed by him. They looked around them but the mechanic wasn't there. He was gone. But where was he? And why he did this?

Short Story: A MURDER FOR MONEY?

Although it was summer, it was cold outside. This night there were lots of clouds and there weren’t any stars in the sky.
While I was looking the sky through the window, the phone rang. It was the police officer, who told me that there was a murder in frond of the local school. When I heard that I grabbed my coat hurriedly and after 20 minutes I was on the scene of the crime.
It was dark and started to drizzle. When I got out of my car I felt the cold wind and yes, I was sure that it would be a long night. There weren’t any clues on the street, just a dead body. Then when I saw the victim I couldn’t believe on my eyes- the man who was lying dead on the street was my former class teacher Mr. Smith. I was wondering who could kill so polite and kind men like Mr. Smith. I thought that he hasn’t got enemies, but I was wrong. Somebody hated him so much, that he/she killed him.
Although the weather was bad, I started to inquire the witnesses. They were very scared and told me that they heard just a noise on the street. All evidences was useless accept one. The men told me that he had seen the crime. He saw a black Mercedes and the driver of that car was the killer. The witness told me that the first number of the car number was 8. Yes, this evidence was very useful for me, but there were lots of black Mercedes in the town, which first number of the car was 8.
After that I had to ask his wife some questions, but she wasn’t at home. It was strange, because their neighbors told me that she is unemployed. On the other day she wasn’t at home again. Then I visited some of her friend and asked then some questions about her. And when I asked then what kind of car she drives they said: a black Mercedes and the number of the car were 8689. And after that I still wasn’t sure that Mrs. Smith was the killer, because she hadn’t got a motive.
After two hours wondering what Mrs. Smith’s motive was, I realized that I didn’t inquire the victim’s mother. I was sure that she could know more than the others. And she knows. The old lady was their neighbor and she told me that 3 days ago there was a scandal between them. She heard that Mrs. Smith intimidated her husband with murder, it he don’t give her the money. “But what kind of money?” I asked the victim’s mother surprised. Then she told me that 3 weeks before Mr. Smith won 1000000 $ from the lottery. She told me that her son didn’t love her because of her bad character so that he wanted to leave her. And when Mrs. Smith realized that Mr. Smith wouldn’t give her the money, her last chance was to kill him and to still the money.

Yes, after this evidence I was sure who the murder was. The only one thing we had to do was to find Mrs. Smith. But this wasn’t not very easy.


VERA