"115 B.E." named Mort studying the black door's address sign, scrutinised-eyed.
"Yep." announced Blake opening the door and entering inside, "I'll share one of my room with you. Gonna be roommates."
"Ohh, Blake, where have you been. Kingsley's waiting for you upstairs." announced a lady suddenly, toddling towards them.
"Thanks for the information but I already know, Mrs Stella. I've spotted the police car."
"And who that gentleman with you?" asked Mrs Stella, glaring at Arthur interrogatively.
"A friend of mine." he replied, "Arthur, Arthur Smith. Now let me go and see this 'Mr the Policeman'." answered Blake, smiling at "Mrs Stella then clomped upstairs along with Arthur following him back.
He unlocked the rented room and entered inside. There was Kinsley with his British Warm standing against the wall next to the detective's inky armchair and fidgeting his feet.
Blake sat on it like The High Tables do, cross-legged in an elegantly smart way with his light beard. Sometimes they don't know really if he's really a detective or high-level crime lords.
"At least you arrived." he said, "There's a special case for you. The torn in the thorn case as they call it. We've discovered it in the early morning at about 5 a.m... We've spotted a bulbous man, a businessman from the Roy Company, a Mr Henry Dolp, picked rigorously into a tree full of long and razor-sharp thorns at the Dealt family's palace in the garden."
"Wow, new assistant, new funny case... what a miracle. So, what are we're waiting for." Blake said, standing and pulling on his Milford Coat, ready to go, "Let's go to the spot."
...
The black gate with two gradient rubiginous teensy-weensy lion statues on both sidings opened and two entered the colossal crypt mansion with a fountain in front.
"They seemed to be posh," exclaimed Blake.
"Yep, the Dealt's," responded Kingsley.
Penetrating the hedge maze, on the side, they saw the dreadful tree filled with picks, long and razor-sharp picks. There was a flabby man picked in soaked with bloody dripping blood all over his body.
Blake whistled, "Gone to hell."
There were a cram-full lot of media, journalists and reporters; cameras filming and taking of snaps with flashings outside the police cordon tape noted on it: POLICE DO NOT CROSS.
Blake entered inside it and examined the corpse, hunting for some clue or clues.
YOU ARE READING
The Poker Murders
Mystery / ThrillerBlake Edward, the detective, the crazily clever detective. Befriending Mort Smith, they solve mysteries together and fall into new great grand adventures. Facing lot of foes and dangers, that's gonna be a mysterious mind maze story. So, what are you...
