The Problem of the Straton Murder, Page 2

"Let me show you what I mean." She left her food and began to sip at her juice. "I'll tell you one of the cases my father - he was, admittedly, far better at this than I am today - had in his early years. It was quite an interesting one.

  Sometimes, my dear, the lives of others are inexplicably tied together. And sometimes, due to the strange nature of one of the individuals on that crossroad shows just how bizarre of a world we really live in."

  "Sounds poetic."

  "In a certain sense, it is. But I'll let you be the judge of that." She cleared her throat.

  ...

  Years ago, on a cold March evening, much like this one--

  "It's noon." I pointed out.

  "Quiet, you. I'm setting up the tone here."

  -- much like this one, police came on the doorstep of the mansion belonging to Ms. Andrea Straton - a high judge. They were called for one simple reason - the poor judge had been murdered in her own home. However, this seemed like a relatively easy case. After all, as soon as they stepped in, they were told that the suspect had already been captured. He had apparently been caught, standing over Ms. Straton's body after a gunshot was heard coming from her room - a smoking gun in his hand. What's more - the man confessed to shooting her!

  It seemed like an open-and-shut case. But, as my father was among those policemen, he demanded that a proper investigation be done. So, they questioned everyone in the mansion.

  They soon found out that Ms. Straton was holding a party that night at 10:50 (she was quite an odd person when it came to times, apparently). She had invited three guests (the suspect found in her room was not among those three). According to them, at around 11 PM, Straton had come to meet them in the lounge. One of the guests noted how she appeared to be somewhat tired, but the woman had explained it by the fact that she had had a busy day in the office, as she had just finished a high-profile case of an accused murderer (the murderer was found guilty). They also assumed she had been under a lot of pressure, given the fact that she had been going through a divorce at the time, and her ex-husband had left the house just a few minutes before the guests arrived.

  She stayed with the three until 11:30, after which she suddenly got up and went upstairs, telling the rest not to move and that she "has something she needs to do". The three of them complied - they had not moved from each other's sights until they heard the gunshot.

  The gunshot was heard around three minutes later. All three of them rushed upstairs to Ms. Straton's bedroom (that's where they told them to look for her in case there was an absolute emergency or they needed something - so they assumed the gunshot had come from there). The door was locked, so they had no choice but to bust it down.

  Inside was the suspect, holding a smoking gun, as previously mentioned. Ms. Straton was lying at his feet, dead. The three guests restrained him and called the police.

  It should be mentioned that anyone going up or down the stairs unnoticed by any of the three guests was impossible - as all three of them had a clear view of the staircase leading to the floor on which Ms. Straton's room was located on. All three witnesses testified they saw nobody go up or down the stairs before or after the gunshot.

  Since all three guests appeared to be good friends of Ms. Straton's and all appeared to be unrelated to each other, their statements had no reason to be doubted.

  The room itself had what you would usually find in a bedroom - a bed, dressing drawer, mirror, nightstand, table lamp, a few framed photographs and, perhaps most importantly - a balcony door. It is very important to note that door was locked at the time when the door was broken down (note also that it could only be locked from the inside).

  The police, upon searching Ms. Straton's body, found the only key to the room on her person. Due to the fact that the door had no auto-lock but WAS locked at the time of the murder by all accounts, the police questioned the suspect as to how he got into the room.

  The suspect's story was rather simple in general.

  He wanted revenge against Straton for the verdict she had reached in the previously mentioned high-profile case. He approached the mansion and noticed that the door to the balcony was open. He scaled the mansion walls and entered the room from there. After which, he closed and locked the balcony door (this did not require the key to the room) and waited for Ms. Straton to enter the room. She did, two or so minutes later, locking the door behind her (she had not noticed the suspect's presence at that time). Upon leaving his hiding spot, he approached and threatened her with the gun - ordering her on the floor, specifically, on her stomach (this was the position she was found in when the door was broken down; the body showed no signs of being tampered with as far as positions went). She complied and he cold-bloodedly pulled the trigger - killing her. The act of murder had apparently shocked him to the point where he just couldn't move. Not even after the door was broken down and he was seen by the three witnesses.

  The room was searched by both parties involved - the three guests and the police - nobody was found to be hiding. The suspect himself confirmed that there was nobody else there.

  The only other thing to note about the whole scene was that the phones were out for some time that night - so the police came about twenty minutes or so later.

  Indeed, it appeared like the case was as open and shut as they get.

  And yet, something didn't seem right. Not to my father. He first examined the gun. Recently fired, one bullet missing, has the suspect's fingerprints all over it. So far, it fit the facts. But it still didn't seem right. Then, he checked the body. The bullet appeared to pierce through Straton's stomach and got stuck near her liver. There didn't appear to be a lot of blood around the bullet wound - somehow, the bullet had passed through all the major blood vessels and organs. Autopsy later determined it was the shock and pain that had killed her. After he had the body moved, he examined the area of the floor she was lying on and...

  It was a hole - one that looked very much like a bullet hole.

  It was then that my father knew there was more to this case that met the eye...

  (It is at this point where I would suggest that the reader take the time to consider the nature of the crime itself and attempt at reaching a solution of their own given what was said in the narration. -- J. R.)

  "...And then?" I asked.

  "Hmm? Is it not obvious?"

  "Well, er... It is, in a way, but I'm not sure if there's supposed to be an ending to this story..."

  "Of course there is. My father caught the culprit, naturally."

  "Yes, but what actually happened?"

  "Can't you figure it out for yourself?" She grinned.

  I could, actually. Well, I was pretty sure I could.

  The reasoning was this: due to the fact that the bullet in Ms. Straton's body got stuck in her, we can safely say that there was no exit wound. Well - what I mean is - there shouldn't have been one. Thus, the bullet never passed her fully. THUS, if you were to shoot her while she was on the floor, there would've been no bullet holes under her. And yet - there was one. Now, one could simply claim that the suspect fired twice - once at the floor and once at Ms. Straton - but this didn't fit the facts. The three witnesses heard only one gunshot and the gun found in the suspect's hand had only one bullet missing.

  In other words, only one of the two could've been caused by the suspect. To simplify it further - one of the bullet holes had to have been made before the actual crime - before the gunshot was heard.

  Let's continue our reasoning. Let's assume that the hole in the floor was the fake one. Hey, perhaps it wasn't even a bullet hole! That meant that the suspect had shot Straton, as he stated, and was still guilty. The problem of the other hole only happened to be a bizarre coincidence.

  But... there was a problem with that. In fact, there was a problem with one of the suspect's statements from the beginning. He claimed that he made Straton get on her stomach when he supposedly shot her. She was found in that position, as well. ...However. The bullet entered through her stomach
, not her back. Thus, she would've had to have been facing her shooter - be it as she looked at him face-to-face or if she looked at them as she was lying down on the ground. She had to have been facing them.

  And yet - according to the suspect's story - she wasn't. So... what could we conclude from this? Was the suspect mistaken somehow about how she lied down? Nah, that's too far-fetched. If he made her lay on her back, it doesn't make sense to turn the body over afterwards. So, she was lying on her back when he shot her.

  In other words, this must mean it was the bullet hole in the floor that was the one caused by the gunshot heard by the guests. The suspect must've, in fact, missed her when he believed he'd shot her.

  So what did this mean? If the suspect had shot the floor, how could they have explained the bullet in her gut?

  There was nobody hiding in the room after the door was broken down. In addition, the key was found in Ms. Straton's pocket. To add insult to injury, nobody could've gone downstairs, either - which, aside from the balcony - was the only way out of the mansion. In addition, the suspect himself stated that there was nobody else in the room. And even if there had been another person in the room - how come only one gunshot was heard...?

  There was only one explanation for that...

  "...Have you figured it out?" Claire asked me, noticing that I was deep in thought.

  "She didn't die instantly, did she?"

  "Hoh? And what makes you say that?"

  "She didn't die instantly." I repeated, that time as a statement - I felt like that was confirmation enough. "She was shot before the party had ever started. And was... dying the entire time."

  "Isn't that a little insane? After all, she would've needed to be bleeding-"

  "But she wasn't. You said yourself that there wasn't a lot of blood around the wound."

  "That wasn't going to be my question, though!" She lifted her index finger in the air. "If she was truly shot and dying, as you say, why didn't she bring it up to any of the three guests for the full half an hour she was there?"

  "That... I don't know. But if the pain was becoming too much for her - considering her old age and all - it would explain why she needed to go to her room."

  "Hm... Interesting. So, to you, the man found in the room was innocent?"

  "I suppose so."

  "Interesting..."

  "Was that the solution?"

  She giggled in a manner that I could only describe as awkward. "...Actually, yes. The true murderer was her ex-husband. He'd come to her house and shot her. A spur of the moment, apparently. Upon realizing what he'd done, he ran to the other side of town to the hospital - which took about an hour (this was because the phones weren't working at the time). He didn't know about the party Straton was having. And Straton, having still been in love with her ex-husband or, at least, having enough compassion for him, chose not to mention anything - even going so far as to socialize with a bullet in her gut! Wasn't that insane?

  ...It was, as she soon realized. The pain became too much for her and she decided to go to her room in a desperate attempt to preserve her secret. This, in the end, cost her her life. The suspect at that time had broken in, as well, and threatened her at gunpoint. She got down on her stomach as he requested - which was the breaking point - and she died. The suspect then pulled the trigger and missed by just an inch or so - leaving a bullet hole in the ground. Naturally, the ex-husband soon showed his face with an ambulance - but it was already too late for that. She was dead.

  Naturally, he confessed to everything and spent the rest of his days in jail."

  "I... see." I could simply say.

  "Do you also, then, see how this woman's odd behavior had turned this situation into a puzzle and forced the entire matter into a mess? If my father hadn't been there - or, at least, if the true killer hadn't had a conscience - an innocent man would've been put in jail for the rest of their life!"

  "Yeah, that... sounds like something that would be... relatively... awkward." I admitted.

  "You can criticize me for my lack of sympathy. But complete objectivity is necessary in reaching the truth. If you want the full, uncompromised version of it, you must treat every element of the crime - including the people - as puzzle pieces. The suspect claimed he was guilty. My father ignored him and chose to look at him as part of a bigger picture. He chose to look at all the facts. All the people. All the testimonies. And, in the end, he'd ended up with the correct conclusion long before her killer returned to the scene.

  But even if you were to disagree with me in that method, I shall still think it's a very bad idea, trying to connect with any of the people involved.

  After all, say that a person actually thought that Straton's murderer should've been set free just because he felt bad enough to rush to the hospital. Should we then ignore the fact that he shot her in the first place?! No! Never! It's inexcusable! You can choose to look at the 'why' all you want, but the 'how' will always remain there. The fact that the crime was committed will always remain there. Morality and understanding have no place in detective work. There is only cold logic!"

  The rest of the lunch we spent in silence.

  ###

  Thank you for taking the time to read this. It is my first attempt at a short story, so I'm not sure how much of a success I've achieved here (assuming I achieved any at all!). I am aware that it is harder today to get noticed than ever when it comes to literary undertakings, but I am still hopeful that at least some people will read this and offer feedback of some sort.

  This story mostly came from my curiosity in seeing how detective fiction would have a chance to function in a format that does not necessarily give it enough space to properly intrigue the reader and present the proper mystery. How much I've achieved so here is... debatable. Detective fiction relies heavily on two things: the crime and a certain atmosphere that keeps the reader pushing through, page after page, in their quest for a solution. With only eight pages (well, less), naturally - the reader most certainly reached the end. But was the reader ever given enough time to stop and think about the crime? Probably not, I'm afraid. I, as the writer, had to break the narration and ask the reader to do that themselves. Which, in the end, I do not consider a good thing.

  Still - the concept of the crime, if nothing else, I liked.

  -- J. R.