The College Murder
Creative
Created on 5-14-08
Views(14)
Story Rating G
I never wanted to solve a mystery. I mean, I love to read all kinds of mysteries, even just trying to figure out puzzles. But actually solving a mystery? All those detectives in the stories seem so larger than life. No-one could never be like that. It would be so scary and too much adventure for me. The only thing that I can do is read about adventure. But one fateful day I had to put my brains to work....
“Is it the chlorophyll or the iodide that breaks its structure?” Dale asked, confused.
“Chlorophyll.”
“Of course.” Dale slapped his forehead, disturbing his dull brown hair, “I’m always forgetting...” I was visiting a college with my friend Dale who, despite being a genius and able to fit into any college, was a bit insecure. He only agreed to go on this college tour if I went with him. So there I was sitting in a stuffy, smelly cafeteria while Dale, bucktoothed and wearing huge glasses, talked to some redhead about dandelions, something that was probably Dale’s idea of flirting. I saw a young man storming through a quickly parting crowd searching for someone and looking very angry
He was tall, well built but with a slightly pudgy face and a look about him which suggested he didn’t get much sleep. In spite of this, he was well dressed in the latest fashions.
“Who is he?” Dale asked the redhead.
“His name is George. He’s the star student. Gets perfect on every test, project, and poem. Everything. He’s quite the ladies’ man and all the girls love him except me. I think he’s quite snobbish. There’s only one thing... “ Her face darkened as she whispered, “He claims to have a servant that does everything for him. No one has ever seen this servant. It’s kinda weird.”
“What do you mean he does everything?” queried Dale.
“Well, in each of his classes all of his books are always in their proper places and his homework is mysteriously turned in as soon as the first class starts. He has numerous jackets and every time he needs them they turn up exactly where they’re supposed to be. When he’s finished with the jackets, he drops them on the floor right where he’s standing and just leaves them there. In the morning things are right back where they’re supposed to be. It’s odd, I tell you.” After she had finished this monologue she nibbled a bit at her turkey sandwich.
“Golly, what do you think about that Amanda?” Dale whispered to me.
“It is pretty strange,” I replied, “But what who’s that man he’s walking toward?”
“Oh, him? He’s just the janitor.” the redhead answered and flipped her hair a bit and glancing at the potbellied, gray haired old man.
George had finally found who he was looking for.
“Mr. Lugswert!” he screamed at the janitor “Don’t you ever give me green apples again. Curse you!” The cafeteria was silent. “Curse your life! I will instruct my servant to kill you!” With that threat, George left.
“Oh, he won’t kill anyone,” Mr. Spritely, the excitable college director said when the normal hubbub had returned to the room and Dale had expressed his worry about the passing event, ”George does this kind of stuff all the time.”
“You mean threatening to kill someone?” Dale asked, his eyebrow going up behind his huge glasses.
“No,” Mr. Spritely admitted, his cheerful face turning red, ”I must admit it has never gone this far before.” Then he turned white. ”Everything he tells his servant to do always happens. Oh, what shall we do? What shall we do?!”
Eventually we got his mind off the much anticipated murder and on to other things.
That night we had to stay in the dorms because it was raining so hard the roads couldn’t be driven on. The girl’s dorms were packed, so Mr. Spritely said I could have his cot in the office. I sensed that something was wrong, but I just couldn’t put my finger on it. In the morning I finally did. At about five o’clock in the morning Dale rushed into my room and said he wanted me to come with him to the greenhouse before breakfast. I followed,, sleepily but what I saw there made me wide awake. Mr. Lugswert lay on the concrete floor with a flower pot on his head. The flower pot contained a strange looking purple flower.
“Iodidicol Peroxidiphilide.” Dale said examining the flower from a distance, “ This dandelion has been tampered with. It is extremely dangerous. Mere casual contact will kill a person in an hour without the proper treatment.”
By now I had run screaming to Mr. Spritely’s room. Soon everybody was up and buzzing with apprehension and the police had been notified.
“Well, it was an accident.” the policeman was saying, “The man was doing late night gardening and bumped this shelf while passing. The dandelion fell on him and he died.”
“No,” Dale said thoughtfully staring at the shelf. “If it was an accident, then several other plants would have fallen around him, but you see it is just this one.”
“Wow! You’re smart, kid. We could use you on the force.” returned the police officer.
“No, Thank-you though.” replied Dale.
“Come on!” I said, “An innocent man died and you don’t want to help him.”
“I didn’t say...”
“Oh, of course! “ I couldn’t be stopped now that I was on a roll, “You have all those brains in there, but you won’t lift a finger to help a poor dead, blind, old man.”
“Well...” I could see his reserve was crumbling. “Okay, but just this once.” he conceded.
That day was spent gathering information and by nightfall we were exhausted. I dove into my large cot and lay there too exited to go to sleep. After a few minutes had passed I heard the office door creak while it slowly opened and a small figure with large glasses and a nice but out of fashion haircut entered.
“Can you sleep?” Dale asked.
“No,” I whispered loudly.
Dale went over and lay in the large empty cot near her.
Both were quiet 'til Dale spoke in a quiet voice, “Amanda?”
“Hmm?”
“This case is a puzzler .” Dale had his eyebrows scrunched up behind his lenses he always did when he was thinking hard about something, ”There’s a blind man dead by a poisoned flower. The main suspect is delusional and insisting that an imaginary ‘servant’ did it, and the only lead we have is his roommate, Dick.”
“What did his roommate say?”
“He said that George took a poisonous plant class and several poetry classes and.... what was that other thing?” we wondered almost to himself.
“He slept with his eyes open.”
“Ah, yes,” Dale got a far off look in his eye, “Remember that Sherlock Holmes movie? The Lady in the Green Dress? That man was hypnotized in it and then Sherlock was...”
I always marveled at how Dale could be so smart and have the ability to have so many adventures and yet he preferred to curl up with a good mystery book in an arm chair next to the fireplace.
“...And Watson was almost too late..." Dale’s voice faded away into sleep.
“Tomorrow he’ll have the mystery solved. I just know it.” I thought as I drifted off to sleep.
When I woke Dale was shoving me in the ribs. “Come on,” he said. “I have to get to the green house before it’s too late.”
I dressed quickly and before I could ask him what it was he was looking for and why he wanted me up so early he said, ”I know who killed Mr. Lugswert.” He was wearing the same grin on his face that he wore when he had managed to solve a mystery before getting to the end of a book.
“Who did it?” I asked as we walked through the doorway sides by side.
“George.”
My mouth dropped open. “George? How?”
“Well, you see, Dick said George slept with his eyes open. Considering that sleeping with your eyes open is a fairly common trait in sleepwalkers combined with George’s history of psychotic behavior, well... It’s just a wild guess... I’d have to see his room myself to be sure...” his voice trailed off. ”That’s where we’re going now.” he concluded.
“Are you sure about this?”
“No.”
We silently entered a room with a huge bed on one side and a smaller, narrower bed on the other. Dick lay on the narrow bed. Dale quietly rummaged around the room, poking at things and looking in a few drawers. He pulled something out and was studying it carefully when the door creaked open and, lo and behold, a very shocked looking George stood looking at them holding a pair of shoes in his hands.
“Oh, dear. Oh, dear. Master will be angry.” He was muttering in a meek voice. He looked vastly different now compared to when she had last seen him. He was wearing a western shirt under overalls and mismatched socks without shoes.
“You are George’s servant! You’re the murderer!” Dale exclaimed triumphantly.
“Yes. I didn’t mean to kill the nice janitor. How did you know?”
“I’ll tell you that later. You’re coming coming with me.”
Mr. Spritely was overwhelmed and surprised with the news. After he had wound down he agreed to send George to a psychiatric hospital while he awaited a court date. Mr. Spritely got very touchy when brilliant students were at his school. He doesn't like to give them up.
On the way home, I asked Dale how he had figured it all out.
“Simple. First of all, everything I said before in the hall was correct, and what I found in the drawer confirmed it.”
“What was that?”
Dale looked at me and said,”Records of his past psychiatric therapy. Apparently, George had already been under psychiatric care. When he was twelve he began believing that he was really three people. His father took him in for psychiatric counseling and they were able to reduce him down to two personalities. After that, the psychiatrist said there was no more that could be done and his family lived that way for years. George, being exceptionally brilliant passed the years with straight “A”s and went to college still thinking he was both a king and a lowly servant. He was a king by day and a lowly servant by night. He never did any thing serious so he wasn’t noticed, until now.”
“Golly,” I breathed, ” This was a strange case.”
“Yes, stranger than any other case I have read about in short stories or movies or anywhere.” Dale shivered. “I hope this is the last case I’ll ever be the sleuth for. That was frightening, I’m glad its over.” Dale sighed and then his face brightened “I brought A Study in Scarlet. Maybe I can finish it before we get home.”
As Dale rummaged through his backpack I thought, This was a very confusing case. It’s a wonder Dale solved it. Sometimes I wish I could be as smart as he is and do things like this for people, really help people. But Dale has a mind of his own and he will do what he pleases. My mind went over again and again what had taken place over the last two days. I tried to put myself in Dale’s brilliant shoes, but that was impossible. As the sun broke through the clouds I was still thinking of Dale Windon’s first, last, and greatest case.
“Is it the chlorophyll or the iodide that breaks its structure?” Dale asked, confused.
“Chlorophyll.”
“Of course.” Dale slapped his forehead, disturbing his dull brown hair, “I’m always forgetting...” I was visiting a college with my friend Dale who, despite being a genius and able to fit into any college, was a bit insecure. He only agreed to go on this college tour if I went with him. So there I was sitting in a stuffy, smelly cafeteria while Dale, bucktoothed and wearing huge glasses, talked to some redhead about dandelions, something that was probably Dale’s idea of flirting. I saw a young man storming through a quickly parting crowd searching for someone and looking very angry
He was tall, well built but with a slightly pudgy face and a look about him which suggested he didn’t get much sleep. In spite of this, he was well dressed in the latest fashions.
“Who is he?” Dale asked the redhead.
“His name is George. He’s the star student. Gets perfect on every test, project, and poem. Everything. He’s quite the ladies’ man and all the girls love him except me. I think he’s quite snobbish. There’s only one thing... “ Her face darkened as she whispered, “He claims to have a servant that does everything for him. No one has ever seen this servant. It’s kinda weird.”
“What do you mean he does everything?” queried Dale.
“Well, in each of his classes all of his books are always in their proper places and his homework is mysteriously turned in as soon as the first class starts. He has numerous jackets and every time he needs them they turn up exactly where they’re supposed to be. When he’s finished with the jackets, he drops them on the floor right where he’s standing and just leaves them there. In the morning things are right back where they’re supposed to be. It’s odd, I tell you.” After she had finished this monologue she nibbled a bit at her turkey sandwich.
“Golly, what do you think about that Amanda?” Dale whispered to me.
“It is pretty strange,” I replied, “But what who’s that man he’s walking toward?”
“Oh, him? He’s just the janitor.” the redhead answered and flipped her hair a bit and glancing at the potbellied, gray haired old man.
George had finally found who he was looking for.
“Mr. Lugswert!” he screamed at the janitor “Don’t you ever give me green apples again. Curse you!” The cafeteria was silent. “Curse your life! I will instruct my servant to kill you!” With that threat, George left.
“Oh, he won’t kill anyone,” Mr. Spritely, the excitable college director said when the normal hubbub had returned to the room and Dale had expressed his worry about the passing event, ”George does this kind of stuff all the time.”
“You mean threatening to kill someone?” Dale asked, his eyebrow going up behind his huge glasses.
“No,” Mr. Spritely admitted, his cheerful face turning red, ”I must admit it has never gone this far before.” Then he turned white. ”Everything he tells his servant to do always happens. Oh, what shall we do? What shall we do?!”
Eventually we got his mind off the much anticipated murder and on to other things.
That night we had to stay in the dorms because it was raining so hard the roads couldn’t be driven on. The girl’s dorms were packed, so Mr. Spritely said I could have his cot in the office. I sensed that something was wrong, but I just couldn’t put my finger on it. In the morning I finally did. At about five o’clock in the morning Dale rushed into my room and said he wanted me to come with him to the greenhouse before breakfast. I followed,, sleepily but what I saw there made me wide awake. Mr. Lugswert lay on the concrete floor with a flower pot on his head. The flower pot contained a strange looking purple flower.
“Iodidicol Peroxidiphilide.” Dale said examining the flower from a distance, “ This dandelion has been tampered with. It is extremely dangerous. Mere casual contact will kill a person in an hour without the proper treatment.”
By now I had run screaming to Mr. Spritely’s room. Soon everybody was up and buzzing with apprehension and the police had been notified.
“Well, it was an accident.” the policeman was saying, “The man was doing late night gardening and bumped this shelf while passing. The dandelion fell on him and he died.”
“No,” Dale said thoughtfully staring at the shelf. “If it was an accident, then several other plants would have fallen around him, but you see it is just this one.”
“Wow! You’re smart, kid. We could use you on the force.” returned the police officer.
“No, Thank-you though.” replied Dale.
“Come on!” I said, “An innocent man died and you don’t want to help him.”
“I didn’t say...”
“Oh, of course! “ I couldn’t be stopped now that I was on a roll, “You have all those brains in there, but you won’t lift a finger to help a poor dead, blind, old man.”
“Well...” I could see his reserve was crumbling. “Okay, but just this once.” he conceded.
That day was spent gathering information and by nightfall we were exhausted. I dove into my large cot and lay there too exited to go to sleep. After a few minutes had passed I heard the office door creak while it slowly opened and a small figure with large glasses and a nice but out of fashion haircut entered.
“Can you sleep?” Dale asked.
“No,” I whispered loudly.
Dale went over and lay in the large empty cot near her.
Both were quiet 'til Dale spoke in a quiet voice, “Amanda?”
“Hmm?”
“This case is a puzzler .” Dale had his eyebrows scrunched up behind his lenses he always did when he was thinking hard about something, ”There’s a blind man dead by a poisoned flower. The main suspect is delusional and insisting that an imaginary ‘servant’ did it, and the only lead we have is his roommate, Dick.”
“What did his roommate say?”
“He said that George took a poisonous plant class and several poetry classes and.... what was that other thing?” we wondered almost to himself.
“He slept with his eyes open.”
“Ah, yes,” Dale got a far off look in his eye, “Remember that Sherlock Holmes movie? The Lady in the Green Dress? That man was hypnotized in it and then Sherlock was...”
I always marveled at how Dale could be so smart and have the ability to have so many adventures and yet he preferred to curl up with a good mystery book in an arm chair next to the fireplace.
“...And Watson was almost too late..." Dale’s voice faded away into sleep.
“Tomorrow he’ll have the mystery solved. I just know it.” I thought as I drifted off to sleep.
When I woke Dale was shoving me in the ribs. “Come on,” he said. “I have to get to the green house before it’s too late.”
I dressed quickly and before I could ask him what it was he was looking for and why he wanted me up so early he said, ”I know who killed Mr. Lugswert.” He was wearing the same grin on his face that he wore when he had managed to solve a mystery before getting to the end of a book.
“Who did it?” I asked as we walked through the doorway sides by side.
“George.”
My mouth dropped open. “George? How?”
“Well, you see, Dick said George slept with his eyes open. Considering that sleeping with your eyes open is a fairly common trait in sleepwalkers combined with George’s history of psychotic behavior, well... It’s just a wild guess... I’d have to see his room myself to be sure...” his voice trailed off. ”That’s where we’re going now.” he concluded.
“Are you sure about this?”
“No.”
We silently entered a room with a huge bed on one side and a smaller, narrower bed on the other. Dick lay on the narrow bed. Dale quietly rummaged around the room, poking at things and looking in a few drawers. He pulled something out and was studying it carefully when the door creaked open and, lo and behold, a very shocked looking George stood looking at them holding a pair of shoes in his hands.
“Oh, dear. Oh, dear. Master will be angry.” He was muttering in a meek voice. He looked vastly different now compared to when she had last seen him. He was wearing a western shirt under overalls and mismatched socks without shoes.
“You are George’s servant! You’re the murderer!” Dale exclaimed triumphantly.
“Yes. I didn’t mean to kill the nice janitor. How did you know?”
“I’ll tell you that later. You’re coming coming with me.”
Mr. Spritely was overwhelmed and surprised with the news. After he had wound down he agreed to send George to a psychiatric hospital while he awaited a court date. Mr. Spritely got very touchy when brilliant students were at his school. He doesn't like to give them up.
On the way home, I asked Dale how he had figured it all out.
“Simple. First of all, everything I said before in the hall was correct, and what I found in the drawer confirmed it.”
“What was that?”
Dale looked at me and said,”Records of his past psychiatric therapy. Apparently, George had already been under psychiatric care. When he was twelve he began believing that he was really three people. His father took him in for psychiatric counseling and they were able to reduce him down to two personalities. After that, the psychiatrist said there was no more that could be done and his family lived that way for years. George, being exceptionally brilliant passed the years with straight “A”s and went to college still thinking he was both a king and a lowly servant. He was a king by day and a lowly servant by night. He never did any thing serious so he wasn’t noticed, until now.”
“Golly,” I breathed, ” This was a strange case.”
“Yes, stranger than any other case I have read about in short stories or movies or anywhere.” Dale shivered. “I hope this is the last case I’ll ever be the sleuth for. That was frightening, I’m glad its over.” Dale sighed and then his face brightened “I brought A Study in Scarlet. Maybe I can finish it before we get home.”
As Dale rummaged through his backpack I thought, This was a very confusing case. It’s a wonder Dale solved it. Sometimes I wish I could be as smart as he is and do things like this for people, really help people. But Dale has a mind of his own and he will do what he pleases. My mind went over again and again what had taken place over the last two days. I tried to put myself in Dale’s brilliant shoes, but that was impossible. As the sun broke through the clouds I was still thinking of Dale Windon’s first, last, and greatest case.
Comments
Please Login to post comments| On May 25th 2008 leovex Said : | |
|
Sorry ! it was a shool project and my teacher said i should put it on the internet. i dont thing it is That good. oh well! |
| On May 14th 2008 JWalker2406 Said : | |
|
It's pretty good. Seems a little fast paced to me. But an alright job. |
