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The Forged Murder
“I am sorry dear…… but I will have to do this.” A flash, a glint of silver gleaming in the moonlight, a scream and all was still……
“NOOOOOOOOOO!” emanated a shriek from the girl’s mouth as she threw away her sheets; her eyes wandered upon a spectacle…… a flash, a glint of silver, a scream and all was still……
The door swung open as the housemaid walked in, whistling cheerfully to herself. She opened the door of the bedroom and let out a blood-curdling scream as a flashing of silver reflecting the brilliant sunlight hit her recognition……
It was but a matter of seconds before the police were there, shaking their heads in numb disbelief as the encountered the scene before them; a man lying dead upon the bed, the hilt of a silver dagger protruding from his heart, his face indiscernible, a pool of blood surrounding him; beside him, on the couch, sprawled up on all fours, his wife, an expression of horror and terror adorning her face, her silhouette a ghastly figure to witness in the broad daylight……
The policemen started the regular course of investigation, questioning everyone, trying to seek the arcane truth, the clue to which was not to be found. They did their best but to no avail, and after a few days, the case was buried among the ever-growing stack of files on the inspector’s table……
And meanwhile, as they sought to expose the real cause of the matter, there was, in a car speeding away on the highway, a man with his fiancée, a man whom no one would ever suspect and a man who laughed, feted and giggled, a non istwentus entity celebrating the freedom from the bond that linked him with her…… his wife……
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