WHODUNITS

Short story : A cigar never lies

Jane got out of the swimming pool and began to dry herself when she heard a stifled noise. She asked :

«  Daddy ? Has anything fallen down ? 

As he wasn't answering anything, she repeated louder :

- Daddy ? Daddy ! Are you allright ?

- ... »

As she was running towards the house, she felt more and more anxious. She rushed up the stairs and opened at once her father's bedroom door. Usually, after breakfast, her father would go to his bedroom to have a rest.

But this time, he wasn't in his bed. Between that bed and the window, there was a blood stain on the floor. There was a smoking cigar on the desk. She went to the balcony and found a bloody knife. She had a look at the ground, 12 meters below. Her father was lying down. She screamed and fainted.

Jack Vermee was doing his crosswords when Sergeant Bracks knocked at his door.

“Come in!

-Hello, inspector Vermee…

-Hi, Bracks. How are you?

-Fine, thank you…

-Something new?

-Maybe, yes. Lady Mac Ewan called 15 minutes ago. Apparently, her husband had an accident and... he’s dead.

-You’re talking about Richard Mac Ewan, the billionaire?

-Yes, of course!

-Damned, where's my suit?”

Half an hour later, Vermee and Sergeant Bracks were on the road to the Mac Ewan’s manor, the inspector was driving with one hand, holding a cup of coffee in the other one and a cigar between his teeth. It was a really sunny afternoon, which was very rare in Norfolk. It took them more than an hour to go to the manor which was remote, lost in the middle of nowhere. Finally, he stopped in front of a huge house totally made of rough black stone.

”Why do they live there? They are one of the richest families in England but they have to live in a dark castle without heating… said Vermee to Bracks who was standing next to him.

-It’s the family manor, sir. They have been living there for more than 300 years…

-I know that but it’s totally stupid. Like all billionaires, they are totally crazy…”

They walked to the entrance and rang. At once, a tall butler in tail coat opened the door and told them that Lady Mac Ewan was going to receive them. After a while, a tall blond 50 year old woman joined them in the library where they had had to wait. She was holding a tissue in her hand and there were traces of tears on her cheeks. Vermee took off his hat and said to the lady:

“Mrs Mac Ewan, please accept my condolences. Your husband was one of the most appreciated personality in the county and…

-Thank you, officer, that’s really nice… You want to see the bedroom, I suppose?

-Yes, you’re right.

-Follow me, please…”

They climbed up the main stairs and turned right, then left. Finally, they arrived in front of a big wooden open door. Vermee entered the room and, immediately saw the blood on the floor and on the bed. He bent to look under it and said:

-Bracks, I would need gloves.

-Here they are, sir.

-Thank you”

He took on the gloves, and picked up something under the bed.

“Well, I think we’ve got the crime’s weapon…

-That’s not an accident? asked Lady Mac Ewan.

Vermee looked at her as if she was joking.

-An accident, with this blood and this knife? Are you making fun of me? Well, just think about it: Mr. Mac Ewan was playing with a 15 centimeters long knife when he hurt himself. He was afraid of his own blood, so he moved back to the balcony and fell in spite of the rail. No, I’m afraid your husband has been murdered… and you’re the first suspect!”

Back in the library, Vermee and Lady Mac Ewan were having a small conversation:

“So, what were you doing when your husband was killed?

- I was here. I enjoy reading a bit after breakfast.

-Which book were you reading?

- The sign of four by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. I’m crazy about this kind of literature!

-I see… Did anyone see you and could testify?

-Well, in fact, I don’t think so. I am used to locking the door to be quiet.

-Mrs. Mac Ewan, do you know what is in your husband’s will?

-Yes, of course.

-So, you know that you’re going to receive 50% of his fortune? How much does it represent?

-About 600 million pounds, I think.

-Hmm… personally, I think that it’s enough to commit a crime.

-Are you telling me that I’m the murderer?

-No, of course no…

-I prefer that. And why don’t you think so?

-Mrs. Mac Ewan, I saw the body of your husband. He was taller than a basketball player and stronger than a wrestler. You’re thin and old. You weren’t able to kill your husband with that knife and you couldn’t push him over the balcony… You can go; I have to talk to your daughter Jane. Could you show me her room, please?

-Of course officer”

They got up, left the library and climbed up the stairs again. They turned on the left, then on the right.

-“It’s the red door, just over there, said Lady Mac Ewan.

-Thank you”

Vermee knocked quietly.

“You can come in, inspector.

-Hi, Miss. I would like to ask you a few questions.

-I’m listening to you.

-What were you doing when the murder happened?

-The murder?

-Yes, your father was murdered.

-Oh! I thought it was an accident…

-Sorry about that…

-I was in the swimming pool.

-Did anyone see you?

-Yes, Mr. Kalasha, the gardener. I talked to him just before I heard the noise.

-Thank you. I’m going to see him. One last question… what are you going to do with your money?

-I’m going to move to the USA, L.A. I think.

-Ok. Bye, miss.”

Five minutes later, Vermee was in the garden, looking for M. Kalasha.

-“ Hello ? Mr. Kalasha ?

- I'm just over there.”

Kalasha was an old Indian gardener. He held clippers and he wore gardening gloves.

- I'm the inspector in charge of the investigation about the death of Richard Mac Ewan.

- How can I help you ?

- I'd like to ask you some questions.

- Listening to you.

- Miss Mac Ewan told me that you talked to her before the murder. Yes, it's a murder.

- Yes, I remember that. It was maybe one minute before the noise.

- Can you prove it ?

- You should check with the cameras.

- OK. One last question. Where is the son of Richard Mac Ewan ?

- John is in the kitchen. He is crazy about cooking.

- Really ?

- Yes, he has been very famous since he did Masterchef in France, don't you know him ?

- No, no … See you later.

- Good bye, inspector.

Vermee walked to the castle's kitchen. There was a smell of roasted chicken with a curry sauce. He pushed the door open and went in. A tall young black haired man was cutting carrots on the table. Vermee immediately saw that he was using the same kind of knife as the one which had been used to kill Richard Mac Ewan. The man was using it incredibly quickly and precisely.

“John Mac Ewan, I presume ?

- Yes, that's me.

- It smells good, said Vermee, talking about the chicken in the oven.

- It's an Indian meal. Kalasha gave me the recipe.

- I should maybe taste it.

- Sorry ?

- Nothing. What were you doing when your father was killed ?

- I've been cooking all morning.

- Could you prove it ?

- No, I am used to cooking alone.

- Kalasha told me that you were a good cook. Is it true ?

- I've been working for more than six years ...

- And what are your specialties ?

- Meat, fish ...

- How were your relations with your father ?

- Bad. He didn't want to let me go working in a restaurant in London.

- I see … Would you like to follow me in the library, please ?

Half an hour later, Bracks, Lady Mac Ewan, Jane, John and Kalasha were sitting in the library, listening to Vermee :

“ Ladies and Gentlemen, it's maybe one of the easiest case I've ever met. Three people had reasons to kill Richard Mac Ewan. His wife because of the inheritance, his daughter for the same motive and his son because of the money and because of his projects. His wife wasn't strong enough to kill him and his daughter didn't go to her father's room. I checked with the cameras. But John, you know how to use a knife, you are strong and you had good grounds to want your father's death. More than that, you don't have any alibi.

- Are you mad ?

- No, I think that 300 million pounds is enough for a murder … You are under arrest John Mac Ewan. You are allowed to keep silent …

There was something strange in this case. Too easy, too simple. For the first time of his career, Vermee had a doubt. He was sitting in front of the fire place, thinking about it. For three hours, he tried to remember everything about the crime scene, but he couldn't find anything. Finally, he got up, took a cigar and began to smoke. He looked at it, and, at once, he understood. He took his phone and called the manor :

“ Kalasha ? Sorry to wake you up.

- What can I do for you, inspector ?

- Just say to Lady Mac Ewan that I was wrong and that I found what really happened. I will come tomorrow with John.

- OK, I'll tell her.”

The next day, everybody was in the library again. Vermee got up and said :

- First, I'd like to apologize to John.

- You are totally excused, inspector.

- Since the moment I arrested you, I have been thinking that this case wasn't as simple as it seemed to be. In fact, it's one of the most complicated I've ever seen. There were too many clues but I didn't see them, because I was sure it was a murder. First, the knife. Why didn’t the murderer pick it up ? Then, the blood. Too much for an accident, not enough for a murder. But the most important thing in this case is the cigar. A totally burnt cigar …

- What does it change ? asked Jane.

- It changes everything. Who finishes his cigar as he is being killed ?

- Maybe he smoked it before ? Said Lady Mac Ewan.

- No, because there was blood on it, and it was put in a place where we didn't find any blood. Strange, isn't it ?

- But what does it mean ? Asked Kalasha.

- In fact, despite everything we could think, this death isn't a murder, but a suicide.

- Oh my God ! whispered Lady Mac Ewan. But why did he do that ?

- I think he discovered that John wasn't his son.

- How ... How do you know that ? said John.

- Because of your hair. Lady and Richard are blond, but you've got dark hair. In fact, he tried to simulate a murder to accuse his wife and to have a revenge. Everybody knows that he had a cancer. He was going to die and he tried to punish you, Lady Mac Ewan !

François Mottais and Charles Coudour