Murder at Winterbrook

11. The Conclusion

          Blake contemplated on the grand varnished oak table for a moment or two the looked up at the baffle looking faces of staring at him. He then leaned back against the spat of the chair, spontaneously, placing himself into a cross-armed and cross-legged position, maintaining eye contact along with his sharp eyes which rolled side to side. He cleared his voice and said along with his always charming and elegant voice, "Mr Edgar died and concurrently, Mrs Clara but the murder of Mr Edgar stays the dominant of Mrs Clara's."

"What do you mean?" I asked along with my curious expression on both my face and voice.

Blake passed his tongue on his dry lips then went on, "Mrs Clara died due to an accident but still, though, Mr Edgar's murder is the cause of it."

"Oh! Come on be more precise!" Kingsley exclaimed, slightly annoyed but along with a mix of interest.

"Yes, I will," Blake said, rather sounding cool, pulling his eyebrows together and bringing it into a frantic frown, "I didn't take much attention on the death of Mrs Clara as I knew till the beginning that the murder of Mr Edgar was the cause behind it." Blake paused for a moment or two, then said, abruptly, "Now, let's jump to the conclusion."

Everyone glanced and gazed at Blake along with a startled expression, as if the words, "the conclusion" was unexpected and at the same time impromptu.

The only person who was the most surprised was Mrs Russel along with her hooded reptilian eyes which broadened in size.

"What already!?" I thought to myself along with a puzzled smile which bloomed in my face already describing myself utterly astonished by the words which Blake recently spoke out, alongside, my train of thought launching itself on at once, carrying the same question around my mind

"I went through my guesswork where I guesstimated and asked myself questions and understood the plot." Blake said, leaning forward and concurrently squinting his eyes, continuing, "and now, I'm going to narrate it to you." Blake paused for a moment or two and cleared his voice again then resumed much elegantly, "So, let's begin with the murder of Mr Edgar. The awful night when Mrs Russel reported him missing at eleven o'clock to the police, it was really terrible to you when you discovered him in the car in the garage, wasn't it, Mrs Russel?"

"Yes, yes," a response came from a low-voiced Mrs Russel, 'It was terrible, really terrible."

"And as to you, Mr Danny Watts, you were really puzzled yourself knowing that Mr Edgar died in his car, which the police suspected as an accident and baffled up of how the car was still in the garage, after meeting you in the wedding where he told you that he did an accident two days after you met him there. Wasn't it, Mr Danny Watts?"

"Yes, of course," replied a gentle Danny Watts, "It really puzzled me."

"And the accident of Mrs Clara took place on the same night. Which was quite confusing if it did have a link with the murder of Mr Edgar or not, but later, Kingsley belatedly made me aware that he saw both Mr Edgar and Mrs Clara in the camera entering in a restaurant ad getting out and making their way in another different car as Mr Edgar's which clearly implies that the car was and without a doubt in the garage."

Blake stopped at once and said, "Now, let's end with this conclusion." He cleared his voice and said, stylishly, "Mrs Russel, you worked at the Adlington Hospital in before in Headington then shifted in Winterbrook when you married to Mr Edgar. But after who noticed that his character changed and treated you badly. I could notice the bruises in your skin and later on, you knew that Mr Edgar was having an affair between Mr Clara."

"What are you talking about!" shouted Mrs Russel.

"About this," Blake said, reaching out for something in his coat-pocket and getting off a phone, "You found the messages about the rendezvous at the restaurant," Blake told, showing the messages on the phone.

"But!" exclaimed Kingsley, "Where on earth did you find this phone!?"

"I just took it off from Mrs Clara," Blake replied, rather sounding cool.

"But why didn't you give it to me!?" Kingsley declared out quite explosively, "You were supposed to help us!"

"Yes, yes," Blake murmured, gazing a sharp look to Kingsley, "But I profit of myself. Just like a hawk, he eats it's prey and prevents it to be eaten by the other."

Blake passed his salivated tongue on his dry lips and caressed his chin, "You may all know that the hawk symbolises the ability to use intuition and higher vision to complete tasks or make important decisions. And you may also have the knowledge that people often say that when you see a hawk that appears on your path is actually preparing you for some kind of leadership in a certain situation. Then, I believe that one has already appeared on my path." He took a deep breath and sighed it out heavily, "Finally, let's end up with the story." He glared at the still dumbfounded and confounded faces along with a cunning look which came into his eyes, "So, as to you Mrs Russel, you were working surrounded by poisons and you planned to kill your husband by poison and you knew the fact most poisons can't be found in corpses that are severely decayed or simply bones and in this case, you can still get away with the murder by poison. You tried to poison him and placed him into the car then phoned the police to report him missing. And purposefully wrote down the letter, the trap when you somehow saw me through the window just to make me go out of subject."

Mrs Russel was unquestionably shell-shocked and stayed still like a statue on her seat then stood on her feet, exclaiming out, complainingly and slightly repugnantly, "B-But this is completely wrong! It's totally false!"

"Sit down, Mrs Russel. The story hasn't reached its end yet." Blake said.

Mrs Russel sat down again looking much stressed along with Mr Gerome.

"So, as I said, the story hasn't reached its end. So, let us move on to Mr Gerome. You looked much stressed till the beginning but for what? That was the question that I kept on thinking of and finally concluded it."

Mr Gerome gulped a mouthful of his saliva which was mechanically gliding down his throat along with his panicked sweat-dripping face.

"But, after I eavesdropped into the strange conversation between you and Mrs Russel, I understood. Mrs Russel told you to play a turn of cat's paw which was to knock down her car which dropped Mr Edgar at home and made her way alone across the wood and to make it believed as though it was merely an accident. You two, brother and sister, were involved in the murder."

"But that doesn't make sense!" burst out a furious Mr Gerome still drowned into sweats of panic which rolled down from his forehead to his neck.

"No, it does," Blake said, "A real plot of a writer filled with mysteries of crimes. That's what it is."

"It doesn't make sense!" reinterred a low-voiced Mr Gerome.

Kingsley and I got up and handcuffed Mrs Russel and Mr Gerome together.

"Well done, though," I commented, glancing at Blake and Mort.

"Well, it just... simply..." Blake murmured.

"What?" I asked along with a puzzled smile.

Blake said, "The Hawk at his best."