Forums → Art, Music, and Writing → Whodunit?

Cooool. I love mysteries. . . That I get to solve. Epic.

Oh, so it's like a live-action more complex game of Clue? Fun~

Don't expect the next one anytime soon though. Not only am I procrastinating right now, even when I get off my lazy butt and start writing, it'll still take ages. Mysteries are extremely difficult to write. I admire manta a lot for his Blackout series.
Anyways, I'm glad there is at least one person that I can count on to participate!

I admire manta a lot for his Blackout series.

Yeah. I am awful at keeping things organized though, so right now I am making character profiles. Then I will get to the plot. Then I will get to the actual bit that the readers will solve. Then I will have to work out subtle clues. Then I will get to the actual writing.
Sigh...
Anyways, you're welcome.

Ok, part of the hurdle is over. I've got a basic outline of the characters and plot.
Now...I just need to actually write it.

Woohoo! I love mystery stuff. I read Sherlock Holmes =D

I'm looking forward to this. Yet another great project from Moat. =D

At long last, the story is complete! I will accept guesses for five days. The first person to guess correctly the things stated in the OP gets to choose the next story if they would like. And if they guess correctly, I will add a final paragraph, where Detective Jason Carlos accuses the perpetrator. Otherwise, if it's not solved by five days, then it will remain unsolved...


"Ok, Jay," said Nikki Saint-James briskly, slapping a case file on her friend's desk. The police station bustled with activity, blue-clad uniform officers trotting this way and that. Detective Jason Carlos looked up from his computer, his dark brown eyes encircled by dark rings and bags.
"Hi," he said, trying to add his usual lilting tone to his voice, but failed. It sounded raspy and exhausted.
"Jason, you need to sleep more," said Nikki, sounding suspiciously like his mother. One of the nearby detectives barely contained a snicker.
"Yeah, well. I have two new cases to work," replied Det. Carlos. "Now what's this you have?"
"Timothy Wilheim. Married man in his late thirties. Found dead at his house last night with his throat slit. A former employee of his found him," Nikki replied. Det. Carlos sighed. This ruined his plans for lunch.
"Right. So, chief wants me to take care of this one?" asked Det. Carlos.
"Above all other priorities," Nikki said, smiling slightly. "That means we get rid of this and this and this." As she spoke, she snatched Det. Carlos' other case files right off his cluttered desk. Det. Carlos didn't complain.
"And this case is so important because..." he said, waiting for an answer.
"The victim ran a large chain company, worth billions, and was also one of the department's greatest supporters. The chief wants to impress the new owner, the victim's widow, by solving this case quickly, and she seems to think you're the best detective for the job," answered Det. Carlos' assistant.
"Right..." said Jason. "Flattered, really," he added sarcastically. "So this is my new case. I'll get right on it."

Det. Carlos sighed as he drove to the victim's house. His fingers impatiently tapped the steering wheel. He pulled up to the victim's house, and examined it enviously. It was a mansion, white and beautiful. The white steps were carved ornately, with a iron rod twisting elegantly around and leading up to the house, in the style of a Victorian. Det. Carlos walked up the steps and rang the doorbell. He noticed a small amount of a strange white powdery residue on the railing, but before he could examine it further, a young maid opened the door. She had a broom in her left hand and a mop in her right, and seemed to clumsily stumble as she opened the door.
"Hello, what can we do for you?" the maid asked politely, although she sounded a bit strained.
"I'm Detective Jason Carlos. I'm here investigating the death of Mr. Timothy Wilheim," said Det. Carlos. "I'm here to get the statement from his widow and examine the murder scene."
"Detective?" repeated the maid, looking quizically at Jason. He followed her gaze. He was wearing a red t-shirt and blue jeans, along with sneakers.
"Ah well...early fall Santa Barbara is too hot to wear a suit," Det. Carlos said hastily, slightly embarrassed. He rubbed his right hand over his brown hair, messing it up even more than it normally was. When the maid still looked suspicious, Det. Carlos retrieved his badge from his pocket and waved it at her impatiently. Finally, the maid let him in. Det. Carlos found himself having to duck down slightly to get into the doorway, his six foot four frame impeding him.
"Where's Mrs. Wilheim?" asked Det. Carlos.
"She's not here right now, she's out shopping. But you can catch her tomorrow at the funeral. And several of Mr. Wilheim's employees would be at his company, Thorax Hydraulics, right now. You can talk to them," replied the maid helpfully.
"Hm. Well, while I'm here I might as well look around," said Detective Carlos, talking to himself more than the maid, who walked off briskly, the swish-swish sound of the broom audible. Det. Carlos scanned the room thoroughly, looking for any clues. None in the welcome room. He walked through the hall to the living room, where the victim had been found. A bright, streak of arterial red stained the white wall. A chalk mark of the body was on the floor. Blood drips, presumably from the murder weapon, stained the carpet. Another small mark of the odd white powder Det. Carlos had noticed on the railing was on the wall. Of course, it could be chalk, but it could also be something else. Detective Carlos swabbed a small sample of it and pocketed the baggie. He also noticed a blonde hair on the floor. Carlos picked it up, then he continued his search for clues, but didn't find any. No signs of struggle, just blood spattered on the wall and a bit of powder on the floor. He left the murder scene and continued his search of the house. But he didn't find a single other thing out of place. Sighing, Det. Carlos left. This will be a long investigation, he thought to himself.

"Yes, that's what I said about the powder," said Det. Carlos, exasperated. The cell phone in his right hand seemed to be the source of the frustration.
"Well, did you send it over to the lab?" asked Ms. Saint-James on the other end of the phone.
"Isn't that what I just said?" snapped Jason. He hadn't yet had his coffee or any real sleep.
"Sorry," replied his friend sharply. Det. Carlos immediately regretted his words.
"Look, I need to get to the Thorax Hydraulics building, then I need to get to the funeral. Just let me know if any results come out," said Det. Carlos.
"Will do," said his friend. And Det. Carlos reached his destination; the Thorax Hydraulics building. The victim's business.
"Hello, I'm Detective Jason Carlos with the SBPD. I'm investigating the murder of Mr. Timothy Wilheim," said Det. Carlos, waving his badge at the doorman, who let him in promptly. Det. Carlos looked around, at the hustle and bustle of factory workers on the first floor, and then looking up, the rapid click-click and talking of the secretaries on the second floor. He would have to interview each and every one of these people.

"How did you know Mr. Wilheim?" asked Det. Carlos for the hundredth time that day. A mousy man in a revolting brown suit sat across from him.
"He was my boss. I was about to be promoted to co partner, though," said the man, whose name was Victor Monroe. At these words, he seemed to glow with pride.
"Right. Have you heard any rumors, Mr. Monroe?" asked Det. Carlos.
"Well, it's not much of a secret, but this business was going under. Not long ago, Mr. Wilheim fired Thomas Hack for no good reason but that he didn't have enough money to pay him anymore," said Mr. Monroe.
"I see. Anything else you've heard, Mr. Monroe?" asked Det. Carlos
"Not that I can think of," said Mr. Monroe.
"All right then. Thanks for your cooperation, sir. And if you do remember anything else, here's my card," Det. Carlos said, handing Mr. Monroe his detective business card, which the other man quickly pocketed.
"I will, Detective," said Mr. Monroe.

"How did you know Mr. Wilheim?" repeated Det. Carlos as the next employee walked in.
"He was my boss," answered the new employee, a young, small woman by the name of Maria Tudor.
"Right. So, anything you heard about him?" asked Det. Carlos.
"De mortuis nil nisi bonum dicendum est," hissed Ms. Tudor. Then, with the clicking of her strange, painful looking cheap gray office shoes, she walked right out of the room.
"Well," said Det. Carlos to himself. "That went well."

"Okay, then. Next up is the best friend, Charlie Wyatt, and then I should probably talk to that man Victor Monroe mentioned, Thomas Hack," muttered Det. Carlos a few hours later. After interminable headaches, he'd finished the employee interviews and made it to the funeral on time, switching his normal t shirt, jeans, and sneakers for a solemn black suit. He observed the widow, Mrs. Deana Wilheim, with swollen eyes red from crying, dressed in a black lace gown(which must have cost several hundreds, if not thousands, of dollars)speaking at the altar. Det. Carlos also noticed several employees at the ceremony, heads bowed. Among them was the fired man, Thomas Hack, his blonde hair cropped short. He didn't seem all too perturbed, but remained silent and respectful during the ceremony. Det. Carlos spotted Maria Tudor there, as well as Victor Monroe and his wife, Cynthia Monroe. Next to his tall, beautiful blonde wife, Mr. Monroe seemed even more timid and small. He saw Charlie Wyatt, the best friend, a lanky man who seemed shaky and nervous, and unsteady on his feet. Sweat beaded on Wyatt's brow, dripping down onto his dark, grim suit. His eyes were swollen and red, showing symptoms of often crying, and a few tears dripped down as Det. Carlos watched, and bags under his eyes and dark circles around them attested to lack of sleep. Poor guy, thought Det. Carlos, he must really be broken up about this. Of course, his best friend had been brutally murdered, what did he expect? As the funeral attenders trudged up to the casket to say their last words, Det. Carlos noticed a note being put into the coffin by Mrs. Monroe. He could faintly hear the words the attenders were saying.
"Good night forever, you (ba-star-) ," growled Thomas Hack angrily. He swayed slightly as he left the long procession, and Det. Carlos realized he was drunk.
"I'm sorry it had to go like this. But what comes around goes around," spat Maria Tudor
"Forgive me for what I have done," murmured Mrs. Monroe gently
"Goodbye. I will miss you, but you deserve what you got," said Mrs. Wilheim. His own widow! Saying something like that!
"I'm sorry, my friend. For this," said Charlie Wyatt, patting his friend's forehead with his left hand.
"Well, sir. Nobody will miss you, but nobody deserves to go like that either," said Mr. Monroe. He seemed rather devoid of emotion.
Well! thought Det. Carlos. That about narrows the suspect list down to everybody he knew!

"So, Mr. Hack, you found the victim?" inquired Det. Carlos
"Yes, that's correct," said Thomas Hack
"Could you describe it for me?" asked Det. Carlos. Hack winced.
"I'd rather not, Detective," he said.
"Please, sir. It might be difficult but it's necessary for the case," persuaded Det. Carlos
"All...all right. He was laying on the floor. I ran over to him and checked his pulse. That's when I realized..." Mr. Hack stopped suddenly at the last few moments, closing his eyes.
"It's all right, Mr. Hack. You don't need to go on. Could you describe how you felt about the victim?" said Det. Carlos
"Well, he was all right, I suppose. Then he fired me for no reason at all. I was very angry at him..." said Mr. Hack slowly.
"I see. And when and why did you arrive at his house?" asked Det. Carlos
"Well, about 7:00 pm. I went there because I thought maybe I could talk him into giving me my job back," said Mr. Hack. Suddenly, Det. Carlos' cell phone rang.
"Hello?" he asked
"Hi, Jason. This is Grimes, down at the lab," said the voice on the other end
"Right. What do you have for me?" asked Det. Carlos.
"Well, why don't you just come here?" asked Grimes. Det.Carlos sighed. He didn't particularly like the coroner.
"On my way," he said.

"Look here," said Grimes, pointing his rubber-glove clad finger at the body.
"I'd rather not," said Det. Carlos, feeling queasy.
"Just look, will you?" said Grimes, sharper now. Det. Carlos forced himself to stare at the corpse of Timothy Wilheim.
"What...what am I supposed to be seeing?" asked Det. Carlos.
"First of all, look at the throat. See how the knife cut starts at the right?" asked Grimes
"Yeah," said Det. Carlos, his natural curiosity winning over his disgust.
"Right to left cut means our perp is left-handed," said Grimes. He took a bite of a half-eaten hamburger sitting next to his incision tools. "Want some?"
"No thanks," said Det. Carlos. "How can you just eat with a body right there?" he asked, amazed
"What is that, rude? Am I supposed to share?" said Grimes coarsely.
"Forget it," said Det. Carlos. "So now we're looking for someone left-handed. Anything else?"
"Yeah. You know that powder residue you sent to the lab a few days ago?" said Grimes, taking another bite of the sandwich.
"What about it?" said Det. Carlos
"We just got the results back. That is a trace amount of an anti-hallucination drug," said Grimes.
"Anti-hallucination?" asked Det. Carlos, confused
"That's right," said Grimes. "You know how when you get pill bottles, there's always that faint layer of powdery pill on the bottom? That's what it was."
"So our perp is left handed and takes anti hallucination drugs," said Det. Carlos
"Possibly," said Grimes. "The pill residue could as well have been from days ago, if someone visited or something."
"All right," said Carlos.

"Look here," said Mr. Hack. "I found the victim. I don't take pills though."
"All right. Who does?" asked Det. Carlos
"I don't know! Why are you asking me, aren't you supposed to be the detective?" said Hack.
"Look, can you just tell me?" snapped Det. Carlos
"Fine, fine. I think that um...Charlie Wyatt takes that crap. He said something about a mental problem. I'm not sure," said Thomas Hack
"I'll check it out," said Det. Carlos. "But can you run through this just one more time with me? What else did you know about the victim?"
"Um...well there are rumors," said Hack, glancing around.
"Rumors about what?" asked Det. Carlos
"That...that he and Mrs. Monroe were having an affair!" blurted out Hack. He immediately looked guilty.
"Really?" said Det. Carlos, his interested piqued.
"I don't know any more. Can I go now?" said Hack, looking nervous.
"Fine. A few more questions then we're done," said Det. Carlos. "Run through the night you found him again."
"Fine. I got there at about 9:00. I wanted to talk to him about hiring me again. I found him, checked his pulse, and called the police," said Hack.
"Right. Ok," said Carlos.

"It stings, but it looks like Hack's tip was right. Charles Wyatt does take that exact kind of anti-hallucination drug," said Grimes.
"All right then. I'll have to talk to him..." said Det. Carlos, smiling. He had just found his perp.

Knocking on Wyatt's door and receiving no answer even after he threatened to bust the door down, Det. Carlos followed through with his threat, kicking down the door. He gasped. Charles Wyatt hung from the ceiling, suspended by a rope, slashes all over his body.

"CARLOS!" bellowed the chief.
"Yes ma'am," replied Det. Carlos sharply.
"I brought you on this case so that people would stop dying. Now I'm going to need some answers fast, or you can kiss your job here goodbye," said the chief.

Now, it's your move. I WANT SOME ANSWERS!

HELP there is too much literal information in that post.

*POurs water into hard drive*

OK I am just going to go for the most strung out theory possible first, and that would be that the murder itself was committed by Charles Wyatt, and the evidence would be the drugs of course. Other signs include him being left handed, and showing signs of being nervous at the funeral. Now the motive...that is where it becomes complicated. I have thought this pretty thoroughly and have managed to narrow it down to possibly one theory of motive. The victim may have tried to end the affair with Mrs. Monroe and so she possibly hired/seduced someone the victim trusted to kill him, such as Charles Wyatt. Then when the police started to investigate the crime she feared that the police figured out who had done it, and since she was afraid that he might turn her in as well that she would kill him so that he couldn't rat her out.

Was I even close?

It was in fact Timothy Welheim's pet dog.

Well crimson...
I'll tell you in your profile so more hopefuls won't find the job easier =)

So far we have no right answers, but you still have four days left.
And guitar, if you're going to post, at least put some thought into it. Come on.
And I know that's no Sherlock novel, but I was rushing to finish it, and besides, I intend each story to be about that short, the reason being that if I made each story a ten page novel filled with ten thousand complex twists, it would be entirely too difficult to write and no one would read it.

hmm I never even bothered paying attention to Thomas Hack, and his features. The motive was a bit of a stretch for me since I had to figure out why in the world a guys best friend would kill him with no motive of his own. I guess I will have to try this again to figure out the true motive here....

I can't put my finger on it right now, but I have a feeling that the motive could have been directly linked somehow to the anti-hallucination drugs. I will try coming up with a good motive later. Maybe after someone else has tried their hand at it.

*struggles to keep mouth shut*
Agh this is so frustrating. I know the answer and nobody's guessed it yet, granted it's been less than a day. Crimson made a good shot at it, not correct, but a good shot.
But I'd be so sad if I made this beautiful mystery story and no one could solve it and then I had to keep the ending to myself until someone did guess it. Depressing...