Day 622: 5 Minute Freewrite: Thursday - Prompt: wet carpet

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Mrs. Arachne Dowager – five feet three, red hair, black eyes, gorgeous figure – ran crying into the arms of Lofton County's on-call man for the holiday for all matters more serious than grand theft: Captain Ironwood Hamilton of Tinyville, VA. This was a murder.

This was the story as the captain received it: Mr. Dowager was lying out back in the garden, a bullet through his heart. His neighbor had discovered him and run to the house to get to Mrs. Dowager, and Mrs. Dowager had come running and started screaming and had finally had gotten herself together and called the police.

Captain Hamilton got the call, drove up in his truck, cordoned off the scene, gently lifted up the body after examining it, then stood up.

“We need a sheet, and I need to call the coroner – may I use your phone?”

“Of course,” said Mrs. Dowager, and up they went to the mansion. She was pleasantly surprised to see that Captain Hamilton took off his shoes before passing through her sitting room.

“How thoughtful!” she said.

Captain Hamilton made his call, looked around, and then addressed himself to Mrs. Dowager.

“I've got enough room in my truck if you don't want to ride in the coroner's wagon – I'd just like you and your neighbor, Mr. Border, to come on down to the station and make your statements.”

“Oh, okay,” said Mrs. Dowager. “Bill, we've got to go to the station to give our statements...”

Eight hours later, Mrs. Dowager and Mr. Border were booked for suspicion of murder, and each trying to compete for a plea deal by blaming the other for Mr. Dowager's murder.

“How did you know?” said Deputy Sheriff Alexander, who had just come from the scene.

“Mr. Dowager was shot through the heart, but his lividity – the way the blood settles in the body after death – was way off for his position, more in his back than his front, although he was face down when I found him. There was also no blood under his body. So: he had been moved.

“Once I knew that, the question was, from where had Mr. Dowager been moved, and who did the moving? Not Mrs. Dowager – but Mr. Border is 6'5, and he had just changed his shirt. Collar still up, cleaning tags still on it – so it had been quickly done. Yet Mr. Dowager was not a small man either; the logical place from whence he had come was the house.

“If you smell wet carpet in a room that looks very lived in, then you know there is something wrong. Add to that: most of the wall furnishing has been up for a few years because of the fading on the sun side – but a gorgeous new wall hanging was up. I took off my shoes to spare the pristine clean of the carpet, but also to get my toes to the perimeter of where that hanging was. The carpet was still damp, and got more damp as I approached that wall.”

“And, that was the site of the murder – blood still all in the carpet pile, though not visible at the surface, and splattered on the wall behind the wall hanging,” said Deputy Alexander. “See why we can't let you enjoy a holiday?”

“Oh well,” said Captain Hamilton. “I am ever in the service of justice in my country, so why not on July 4?”

Photo Credit: Jared Subia on Unsplash