Christmas Murder Mystery
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The Three Sisters Inn, the small country inn near Tinton-on-the-Green. The air in this quaint little village was filled with laughter and holiday music as guests gathered for a festive Christmas dinner. All were merry and happy—except one guest who had other plans.
As he entered the dining room, Thomas Blackstone took note of all those around him. He saw his cousin Richard’s wife, Alice; her brother James; and their sister Martha—all seated at the same table as they were. They seemed to be having a wonderful time, but Thomas knew that wasn’t really true. Although there was no sign on any of them, it was obvious each one carried their own secret sorrows. As soon as everyone finished eating, they would go back to their rooms where these secrets could continue to fester deep within. It gave Thomas an idea.
He approached his aunt Edith, sitting by herself next to the fire with her cat, Mimi, sleeping in her lap. She looked up from the book she was reading and smiled at him. “Hello, Thomas.”
“How are you?” he asked.
She shrugged. “I’m fine, I suppose—as long as I don’t think about what happened twenty years ago.”
Thomas nodded. “Yes, Auntie, exactly right! You should try not to think about what happened during that horrible night. That way madness is avoided!” He laughed loudly and moved away.
Aunt Edith looked down at the cat in her lap. Its green eyes were closed in sleep. “Mimi. You are a sweet thing,” she whispered. Then she placed the cat on the floor. Looking across the room, she spotted Thomas again. He sat alone at another table, watching everyone else. His face wore a sad expression.
After everyone left the dining room, Thomas went over to his aunt and uncle’s table. “You’re going to stay here tonight and leave first thing in the morning?” he asked.
His aunt nodded. “We’ll have our breakfast with you tomorrow morning before we go.”
They decided to have dessert, then retired to their respective rooms. Within minutes, they fell asleep. When they awoke late the following day, Thomas and his aunt were gone. But when they arrived at the inn, it was empty.
Not far from the inn, Thomas hid behind a tree trunk with Mimi in his arms. He was trying to decide whether or not to kill his aunt and uncle. Or perhaps just run off with Mimi and never return? He was still unsure of what to do. Finally, he set the kitten down so he could consult his journal once more.
It was dark now, but he didn’t mind. He liked the quiet solitude of the woods. And the soft breeze blowing through the branches overhead made him feel like he was floating. He opened the journal to the page marked ‘Decisions.’ This is where he wrote down all the things he’d need to consider if he ever came to this decision.
Thomas tapped out the tune of a song from two centuries earlier. The words were ancient, but the melody lingered, hauntingly beautiful. Just as he was about to sing along with the music, he realized he wasn’t alone. Someone was coming toward him—walking quickly with purpose. He waited until the figure stopped some distance away from him.
It was his aunt. She must have been searching for him because she had no idea where he was. Her face was pale and drawn. With every step she took, the world seemed to tilt crazily around her.
“Where’ve you been?” she gasped.
“Oh, I’ve just been out walking in the woods,” he said. “I love the coolness of the night, the sound of the wind rustling the leaves.”
“I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” she replied, taking hold of his arm. “I couldn’t find you anywhere. Where did you disappear to?”
“Just out into the forest,” he answered. “Why?”
“Well, you know how worried we were when we couldn’t find you,” she said. “You’re supposed to come home immediately after dinner. I sent your uncle and uncle to look for you, but they weren’t able to find you either.”
“What time is it?” he asked.
She held up her wristwatch. “Only ten o’clock,” she said. “But you’re not the only one who’s worried. Your uncle and aunt are waiting for us. We’ll have breakfast together and then take the train back to London.”
“Train?” he asked.
“Yes, Thomas. It would be much faster than driving back to London. And that way you can get a good night’s rest without having to drive all the way home.”
Now that he thought about it, Thomas realized there was nothing wrong with riding the train instead of driving. It was a wonderful invention, he thought. People didn’t have to worry about finding parking spaces or filling up their gas tanks anymore. They just hopped onto a train and rode wherever they wanted to go. Much less expensive too.
The idea sounded perfect. “All right,” he agreed.
When they reached the inn, Thomas found his uncle and aunt waiting for them near the front door. “There you are,” Uncle James said. “Let’s walk around to the car.”
“Walk where?” Thomas asked.
Uncle James pulled a newspaper from under his arm. “We’ll read the paper while we ride home.”
Thomas looked closely at the date on the newspaper. It was dated four days before he’d been in the library. Suddenly he remembered the woman he had seen reading a book in the library. The one who had been talking to Aunt Edith.
He turned to his aunt. “Did you see a lady in the library today?” he asked.
“Who?” his aunt asked.
“In the library. Did you see a lady in the library?” he repeated.
“No.”
“Then why did she say that?”
“Said what?” she asked. “What is this nonsense about a lady in the library?”
“Tell me!” he demanded. “Was someone here?”
“Someone in the library?” she cried. “Why would anyone be in the library? There’s no one here but you.”
“Are you sure?” he asked.
“Of course I’m sure! Who else could it have been?”
“But I saw a lady,” he insisted. “A real live person!”
“Thomas, stop this babbling,” his aunt ordered. “It doesn’t make sense. You’re probably imagining things. Anyway, you’re lucky to have escaped the clutches of that madman. What if he’d taken you by force?”
They left the inn and walked to the car. As they drove away, Uncle James glanced at his watch. “It will soon be noon,” he said. “You should eat lunch first. Then we can visit the museum.”
Once inside the museum, Thomas headed straight toward the mummy case. To his surprise, the guard standing next to the case was the same man who had helped him escape the asylum. Even more surprising, the man now wore a uniform with the name ‘Crawford’ embroidered across the chest.
“Hello again,” Crawford called out.
Thomas stepped closer to the glass panel and peered through.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
“Much better,” Crawford replied. “And thanks to you, I’m happy to report that my wife and kids are doing fine.”
Thomas smiled. He was pleased to hear that Crawford’s family was safe. But he could hardly understand what the guard was saying. His speech was so slurred he sounded drunk.
“Is there something wrong with your tongue?” Thomas asked.
“No,” Crawford replied. “I just cut myself shaving.”
“Cut yourself shaving?” Thomas asked.
“Yes, I was trying to shave around the mummies as quietly as possible, and I ran the razor down my chin. The blade nicked me.”
“That must have hurt,” Thomas remarked.
“Not really,” said Crawford. “It’s just a flesh wound.”
Thomas almost laughed aloud at the absurdity. He stared into Crawford’s eyes and felt an unexpected chill run through him. “You don’t seem very well,” he said.
“No, not really,” Crawford admitted. “But at least I’m alive. And that makes all the difference.”
***
Thomas was about to leave the mummy case to continue exploring the museum when he heard a voice calling his name. At first he couldn’t believe it, but then he looked in the direction of the sound and recognized a young girl staring back at him.
“Emily!” he cried.
She hurried over to him and hugged his leg. She looked up at him with her big brown eyes and said, “I missed you.”
Thomas took Emily in his arms and held her tightly against his body. He kissed her on the forehead and caressed her hair. “Where have you been?” he asked. “Don’t tell me you’ve been in the asylum again.”
“Oh no!” she protested. “This time I wasn’t even there! All I did was go to the movies. We saw a movie called The Man Who Wasn’t There.”
“That sounds interesting,” Thomas said. “I’d like to see it.”
“You can’t,” Emily reminded him. “It’s only playing once. It won’t be showing here anymore after tonight.”
“Tonight?” Thomas said. “But we just got here!”
“Yep,” she said. “Right after you went to the asylum.”
“I didn’t go to the asylum,” he argued. “I escaped from the asylum.”
“You sure did,” Emily agreed. “But nobody believed you.”
“Well, maybe they were right to think I was crazy.”
“Yeah,” Emily said. “Just look at you. You don’t belong here in the museum. Not with real people. If you stay, you’ll die.”
Thomas looked down at his hands and saw that they were covered with blood. “If you want to help me,” he told her, “you need to find a way to get rid of these zombies.”
Emily turned to the guard and whispered something into his ear. He nodded and moved off toward the exit. A minute later, the guard returned carrying a large wooden box. He set it down next to Thomas and opened the lid. Inside lay an assortment of tools, including a hammer, a pair of pliers, and a knife.
“You know how to use those?” Thomas asked.
“Yes, sir,” the guard replied. “My dad taught me.”
“Then fetch some rope while I try to remember how to kill zombies.”
The guard left the room and returned shortly afterward with several lengths of heavy cotton cord.
Thomas grabbed one end and pulled it taut. He then started beating the zombie’s head with the other end of the rope. Once the skull had been crushed, the guard used his pliers to twist the broken neck. After two more blows, the skull shattered.
Thomas gathered up the remains and dumped them in the trash can. Then he leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. He tried to recall every detail he knew about zombies. They were slow moving and stupid, with poor vision and hearing. Their strength came from their bodies being made mostly of cartilage. Like sharks, they also preferred fresh meat. Zombies fed by drinking human blood became stronger and more dangerous. That was because they retained some of the characteristics of their former victims. So far, none of the zombies he’d seen resembled any people he’d known before.
He realized that the dead woman was the exception. She had apparently been a close friend of the man who’d hired him to kill her husband—a man named Gordon. The fact that she hadn’t recognized him or seemed particularly surprised to see him confirmed that the dead man was probably Gordon’s killer, too. But what had killed her? A bullet to the heart would have pierced the lungs as well. Thomas suspected that the damage to her throat had been caused by a blow from a blunt instrument wielded with considerable force.
When Thomas finally opened his eyes, he noticed Emily staring at him. She wore a worried expression on her face. “What?” he asked.
“Nothing,” she replied. “I was just thinking.”
Thomas watched her for a moment and then asked, “Do you ever think about going back home?”
“Does it bother you?” she answered.
“Not really,” Thomas said. “I guess I should feel guilty for leaving my family behind, but I haven’t talked to anyone at home since I’ve been here. My parents are probably worried sick about me.”
“Maybe they aren’t,” Emily suggested. “They might not care if you’re alive or dead. Dad’s always hated you. He thinks you killed his brother.”
“Why do you say that?” Thomas asked.
“Remember how you were arrested when you were seventeen years old?” she reminded him. “Your dad threatened to leave your mom until you promised never to talk about it again.”
“That doesn’t prove anything,” Thomas insisted. “My dad could have gotten angry and made that threat just to hurt me. Besides, why would he care so much if I’d killed his brother?”
“Because you were his favorite son,” Emily replied. “And now your sister is engaged to marry someone else. All of this means he wants to make certain you disappear forever.”
Thomas shook his head. “I’m sorry, but I don’t believe that.”
“Don’t you?” Emily asked. “Just look at yourself. Do you really think you can survive out here? When you start getting hungry, all you’ll be able to think of will be food.”
“I’ll manage,” Thomas said. “Besides, I’ve got to figure out a way to get home. I couldn’t live with myself if I let you die along with me.”
Emily smiled warmly at him. “Thanks, Thomas. It means a lot to me. Now, I suggest we go back to the main floor. There’s no telling whether the guard will return soon. And I don’t want us to be alone for long.”
She reached up to touch his cheek. “By the way, I like you better than those other guys,” Emily continued. “But don’t forget who hired you to kill me. Don’t blame me if he decides to come looking for you.”
“I won’t,” Thomas assured her. “You have my word.”
The End