Three Unusual Suspects

It was apparent by the look on their faces this was not the way the party was supposed to end. The detective paced back and forth in front of the former hosts, turned suspects.

The evening started out innocently. The party guests were all laughing and enjoying themselves. Old and new friends gathered together for an evening of drinks, tapas, and good conversation. Smooth jazz music echoed from the rear of the home near the patio; however, there was nothing soothing about what lay beyond the French doors leading to the back yard.

The pool was now a watery grave as five bodies floated face down. No life had been preserved on this night. The other guests’ bodies lay strewn across the patio and lawn like rolls of toilet paper draped on chairs and banisters as if part of a childish prank.

Now standing before the detective were the sole survivors. Eleven of the hosts' guests were dead. Cause of death undetermined at this time. The coroner was still examining the bodies. The victims had not experienced any trauma. The coroner would have to rely on a toxicology report to solve the mystery of their demise. 

Suspect number one was a former mixed martial arts fighter. The suspect’s muscles protruded through his shirt. It was possible he could have taken out half the room by himself. The detective recognized him from past matches he had attended. Suspect one was a pretty good fighter but he never won any major fights and because of it, the detective had never learned his name. The detective nicknamed him Leonidas. He could have easily been among the warriors in the movie 300. He was approximately 6 foot 7 inches, 280 pounds of all muscle. His primal instinct and need to survive had served him well. That is, if he was not guilty of the massacre.  

Suspect number two was a petite frail older woman. Her wrinkled face and deep set eyes told a story of a hard life. The detective named her Betty White. Not that she resembled the famous actress; it was purely because she was an old Caucasian female with white hair. The detective wondered how this frail woman survived the evening. She must have been hiding somewhere he supposed. Maybe she had gone to the restroom to freshen up when things went south. Her clothing was neat and not a hair was out of place. Betty fiddled with the buttons on her jacket as the detective passed by her moving on to the next suspect.

Suspect three sat in his wheelchair sobbing quietly. His legs had atrophied significantly; he had obviously been paralyzed for years. The detective dubbed him “Sticks” due to his thin legs. “Sticks” gazed into the detective’s eyes as if pleading innocence. Out of the three suspects, he was the only one to show any emotion. Suddenly, his head dropped to his chest and his shoulders slumped forward. The detective began to panic, was he down to two suspects. The detective summoned the coroner for assistance. Luckily, the paralyzed man still had a pulse. He had now gone from suspect to victim number 12.

Leonidas and Betty White continued to look forward, unfazed by the commotion taking place. The EMS techs hurriedly removed the man from the wheelchair and placed him on the gurney. Within seconds the ambulance was speeding down the road with its siren wailing. The hospital was only a few minutes away.

The detective returned his attention to the two suspects. Leonidas had begun sweating profusely. His bald head was now glistening, tiny beads of sweat rolled down his face. Betty White's eyes began to roll to the back of her head. She slowly sunk to the floor, her body slumping over her knees. Leonidas stood frozen in place, his eyes fixed not blinking, his limbs rigid. And then he fell backward as if a lumber jack had yelled timber. The detective kneeled down beside Leonidas and touched his hand, it was ice cold. The detective failed at each attempt to find a pulse. Within minutes of his arrival, all of his suspects were now victims. 

The detective’s last hope of solving the mystery was laid upon the feeble shoulders of the paralyzed man. Just as the detective prepared to make his way to the hospital, he received the call that “Sticks” too had succumb to the same fate of the others. 

With everyone deceased, the detective did a final sweep through the house to look for any additional clues. He could find nothing. His friends from the crime lab had arrived. There was no need for him to hang around any longer. He knew he could rely on their thoroughness to find any clues to assist in the investigation.

As the detective walked out the house, his grimace slowly began to turn into a big toothy grin. He had accomplished his task. His foes had all been vanquished. The paralyzed man, “Sticks,” had recognized him. The detective was not moved by the tears of remorse. His tears were too little, too late.

He recalled the grin on “Sticks” face when he was acquitted for the murder of the detective’s wife and children. “Sticks” had been driving while intoxicated. He had not only killed three people, but he had maimed himself in the accident.

The detective’s family was walking home from the park when “Sticks” blacked out behind the wheel. The car jumped the curb and struck down the innocent pedestrians. Betty White had been the forewoman on the jury that read the verdict. Leonidas was the paralyzed man's key witness who had committed perjury on the stand. Leonidas witnessed the entire accident. He lied and stated that “Sticks” was in the passenger seat; the real driver had escaped the vehicle and ran away. His motive for lying was unclear, but it didn't matter. The remaining party attendees were the jurors who allowed the man to walk free.

It had taken the detective five years to plan the perfect crime, but at last he had received his revenge.