Chapter One—
It was a beautiful day and snow had never been so eager to show itself during this time. A man and wife had preferred staying at home behind closed doors, performing their marital duties.
Loud moans escaped the door and a final breath subscided the unspeakable activity.
"Gregory," Claudette rolled out from bed with white sheets shielding her ivory skin-toned body. Her hair was flawless white, curly and yes, the latest in this era. Pillowcase blonde if one may to describe it like that. "I will be leaving for dad's get-together party."
Claudette's fringe was plastered across her forehead, soaked from perspiration— despite the chilly atmosphere outside, the inside was as warm as newly bought teddy bear for a kid.
"Whenever shall I meet him?" Gregory performed an accent, holding a cigar in his fingers. He was undressed having just his in-between lively friend covered with a pillow.
"You know dad hates you."
"Haven't even met me."
"Time…" Claudette sang reaching out to the light brown man to comfort. The blonde went on with her persuasive attitude, "In due time, alright?"
Gregory puffed out minute circles of smoke in the air. "That's what you said last season. And I didn't mean to disrespect your father by fleeing from his presence like a coward, marrying you behind his back. God how grateful I am he's forgiven you."
Claudette heaved a breath still having an arm across him. "It was love." Her eyes gleamed assurance. "I'll be back, let's say during the weekend. She attacked his inviting pouted lips with hers and he did the same.
It was as if their last intimate feel.
With that she left the room shielded in newly worn clothes.
Gregory stared through the window witnessing the snow descend as his wife, Mrs. Gregory Claudette moved out through it.
He was a detective. Gregory was a new one but his wits were surely not new to this field. He had always loved solving mysteries and it all started at a young age. First, it started with him noticing an old man always wandering at the backyard of his house.
Gregory was just eight but knew something was absurd. The man had claimed he was a gardner but then on one night, he heard a loud yelp from upstairs in their neighbour's house and his own father thought to ignore it.
"Go away kid. It's one of those random grown up stuff," his father slurred, seeming tired with his newspaper at the front of his "flat" tummy. He sat on a recliner chair dressed in a white singlet, black trousers and red and white socks with love designs.
To cut the long story short, eight years old Gregory discovered the mystery of the old man and the widow.
Rising up from bed, he presently headed towards the bathroom to clean up. He was handsome to an extent, though not magazine worthy. His hair was now drenched from going under the shower and body dripping too.
Gregory stopped by the mirror to examine himself. He possessed slight chest hair and a bit arm muscles.
He cleaned his face with a towel and puffed air from his mouth.
He was going to start work today.
He wore his coat, a shawl with cap for protection from the cold weather, and also inner wears too.
*~*
"A beautiful woman." said Gregory. "I wonder who could've killed her."
"Yep," a man with white gloves bent down to examine the body. "That's what crazy persons say before executing their tasks." His name was Mike.
They were in a hotel room, a classy one at that. The woman was a brunette, pouted lips with podgy cheeks, ocean blue eyes, light skinned and to add to this perfection~ she had the natural endowments of a woman.
Mike stared at the lady for a while before covering her body.
"Love,"
"What?"
"Love. It was love, I think." This statement was from Gregory. Mike's eyes scanned around for any clues while Greg took photos.
He brought out a cigarette and began to light it inhaling smoke from it. "Ideas," He breathed facing up the ceiling.
"Why do you think it's associated with love?" Mike questioned out of curiosity. "I mean.. it could be a thief or an assassin, seeing she's rich. "
Detective Gregory then went on to squat near the body. "Yes, it could be. But jf you look at Melissa's finger you'd see round marking showing she had a ring there; a wedding ring I persume. But it was taken away. She's beautiful yet live alone in a hotel with no legal proof of divorce with her husband."
Mike held up a profile on her and gawked in surprise. "Yeah"
Gregory blew smoke out from his nostrils. "We'll go meet him. Her husband, Dr. Lockwood. I'm not saying he did this but we are in dire need of suspects. A stab wound and the killer leaving no evidence. She was scared of him and also scared of having a proper home, perhaps so he couldn't find her that's why she decided to stay in a hotel where she could easily move to another."
"Farewell, Missy." Mike then said, holding up a camera and took a final pic of her. "I'll make preparations to meet the Doctor."
*—*
They were inside an office of displayed awards hung on the walls and some neatly arranged in a shelf. The desk was made of fine wood coulored burguny. There was a large transparent glass behind them where one could see the outside view and the man was a partly bald-on the top mister seated.
Gregory and Mike just comported themselves on their chair. Gregory let out from his mouth, "Sir—"
"—She was a good wife." The man began, Interrupting Gregory. "She never deserved this." The man's tears streamed down his eyes and he gave out a crying sound.
Detective Greg adjusted his body forward to continue his talk. Sir Lockwood was clad in a white lab coat. He talked to the man that actions weren't convincing,"Dr. Lockwood, I know it's hard to accept this but it's the truth. We also need your help in finding the killer. I and my partner have some questions for you."
Gregory sensed something fake.
Lockwood sniffed in and took a tissue from a box to clean his tears and continued acting in this dramatic way.
Gregory and Mike just looked at each other.
Mike went on, "How long have you and your wife been together and have you always lived with each other?"
Still sniffing in, the suspect answered, "For about four to five years. Yes we've stayed with each other not until she decided to move out."
Mike continued, "How long?"
Lockwood replied, "Let's say two weeks now. She's been out for two weeks."
Gregory asked, "Did you two have any arguments? Not— the usuals, I mean any serious one?"
There was an angry expression on Lockwood's face. He pronounced, offended, "Excuse me? Are you implying I did this to her."
"No sir. Just asking what I should." There was a cold air from Greg as he didn't care about the man's feelings. "When last did you speak?"
Fed up, Lockwood stood up gave a from speech, "I haven't spoken to my wife for up to a week. If you need further explanation I'll come and make my statement at the police station. Properly." A tense look was the man's face.
Gregory ran his fingers through his hair and stood up alongside Mike. He concluded, "Of course." He whispered to his partner as they ambled away, "There's something off with him."
"But it doesn't give us the next clue. I checked who Melissa last spoke to on her phone and it have us a Jefferson Jack."