Título: Sociedad de Espinas.
Capítulo: Uno de Tres.
Género: Misterio, policial.
Palabras: 3,158 (el cap).
Raiting: T.
Advertencias: Muerte de Personaje, Hipocrecías y cosas no aptar para ese tipo de sociedad y cultura (?).
Notas: Ha costado, pero aquí esta el trabajo de los Pajayunos.
:Sumario:
En un mundo donde todo es perfecto, donde todos deben tener la vida que se espera para ellos, la muerte llega a destapar los más oscuros y retorcidos secretos. Un hombre, encargado de solucionar el misterio, termina por descubrir algo que cambiará la vida de más de uno.
Control de Capitulos: I Parte , II Parte , III Parte .
Capítulo Primero
Los rayos de la luna eran opacados por las espesas y grisáceas nubes, pero no evitaban que fuera testigo de la tenebrosa escena que se desarrollaba en aquel lugar.
Los árboles del espeso bosque parecían querer escapar, huir de allí, dónde el Demonio había made its appearance, made their mark and feel grim in the air that it was dark and pagan.
screamed in pain branches to be broken by strong feet, which made their way through the undergrowth, trying to get to the stage: a cabin was in front, wood dark and elegant, a single floor, stone fireplace in one of its sides. Elegant and unique, had to say, because its structure was unusual, but not out the standards of "cottage", keeping the typical rustic style. Opposite her, a wooden rocking chair moved absently, making it look sick at all, being a sort of introduction to the horrifying fact that had been inside the walls refined.
The door creaked open only comparable with that of a lost soul escaping from his suffering, after giving way to a scene that would mark the nightmares of those who had had the misfortune to see it: those surfaces, and fine luxury concerns, were now covered with a thin liquid layer, crimson, which seemed to glow dimly with the breed site lighting. The cabinet that was next to a small window was dotted with further drops, as if the painter of what he had suffered a stroke of inspiration, but in fact was evidence of something darker.
Near him, a young man of wiry texture and dark hair in a trance watching the show: on the couch on board, lay the body of a young woman. Who ignore the true color of the furniture, I would say that only slept, ignoring, of course, shocked and somber expression that captures the light and fine features, typical of a lady society, which made him look like a porcelain doll. The skin, white as milk earlier, was now destroyed, cut and stained with blood, which sadly shone, just shed.
seemed as if an angel had fallen from the sky, Divine Disgrace.
could see, if one did with care and efficiency of the years of occupation, that the reason for the new red decoration, was none other than due to a gash on the neck of the victim, but at the same time and elegantly as if he were part within the standards of this woman. Also, if you looked at him, you could recognize a brand of blood on the simple and elegant white dress for women: just above the heart. And, by the suspicion that it had for the job, could infer that there was another injury, perhaps in the back.
But when put aside the cold reason, that stood to their feelings, they seized it: a life lost in a despicable and cowardly, an angel who never see again light, a girl who would not know adulthood.
His eyes, dyed and sorry for such a waste of existence, they turned to scrutinize the other individual present, and what seemed in shock.
His body was robust, sinewy, broad shoulders, square chin, a grown man through and through. But horror tense, bloodstained and stunned, watching the play.
His gaze turned to the tense arms, up to the grotesque and large hands, they held firm, fine silver knife, a dagger fair society, which was marred by traces of fresh blood and sin. His eyes widened in fear, then, go to the face of blasphemy.
- What have you done? She managed to utter, as if afraid to summon a demon, as though committing a sacrilege to do so.
Through the door came more soldiers, who were shocked to see the job done.
The man blinked. Lerdo, gradually turned his face, as if he could not take his eyes of the body that lay their last sleep on the couch. fully open her eyes sparkled in the light insanely
-
A clean and simple case, say a beginner. But not him.
The culprit was, and, in the confession room, while the police who had witnessed the words of the young, who answered to the name John, gave his statement. They wanted it all together to perfection, not a single loose end.
For all he knew, the suspect, because they needed the signature of a judge to confirm his crime, was the only one with access to the cabin, where the alleged caretaker of the place. But despite knowing and half-life of the young brown-haired, as was verified in the light-I could not find any relationship between the victim.
Besides, you had mentioned at the last moment one of the experts not closed: there were three different tracks at the crime scene. " are three in total, some belong to the young, you just go, others to John who also just come in and finally a third person that are not identified, they exit and enter the hut " then added "I guess third of them being a young man for his size, between fifteen and sixteen ." At the moment he decided to take the case. Something did not fit there.
The chief came to the table, sat and stared at him, scrutinizing. Must admit, I felt the strongest of the asci, harass, a cruel murder, in cold blood of an angelic being.
"Good night, John. The young man winced to hear his name, but who did not know his crime, in fact, had not noticed. But he did know. You've been behaving badly, eh, John?
The boy looked around, disoriented, as if they'd just realize where he was. His movement was slow, sleepy and stupid, while his eyes were empty, but at the same time, cloudy and bright.
- Where did that girl knew so pretty, John, how did you meet?
Jhon looked like but I could understand, then his eyes brightened for a moment, but were again lose nothing.
- What did you do, John?! Why, John?! Why kill him?! The anger was tense all the muscles of his neck and could not contain it. Christ, that he had a daughter your age! I could almost see her lying there, surrounded by blood. He sighed.
The young look is dark brown, opened his mouth and spoke, quietly, as if it cost him speak:
-Yo-Yo ... I killed him took a deep breath and turned his brown eyes on Captain Black. Cla-I ... I drove a dagger into the heart-the final word may well have taken as an anguished sigh. It seemed he was going to collapse, but at the same time as if nothing had meaning for him.
- And what about the hack on his back, John? Where is the ax?, Because otherwise you could not have done that, Jhon. ―el capitán lo miraba fijamente, como si pudiese ver su alma. Pero sólo chocaba contra una pared vacía y perdida―. ¿O sobre el corte en su garganta?
El joven volvió a posar sus ojos en él, casi provocándole un escalofrío. Su rostro espesaba aún más confusión que antes.
―Sólo ―Inspiró profundamente ―. Sólo le clavé la daga en el corazón.
Then his face contorted with force, relaxed and fell into a silence that nobody could remove it.
There was more to do thought shocked the captain.
-keep it in the thirteen gentlemen. Confessed and ran a hand over his face in exasperation. And he sent to Smith.
knew the situation was not the best detective, family problems prevented her from working. His wife had gone with her daughter, leaving him alone. He did not want to bother you, but he did not end up closing things.
Any other had left the case there, but not him. Something did not smell good there.
-
The sun began to light the streets of the city. Beginning to be movement of people and life in general, the ladies came out to sunbathe with their knights, servants bought. He felt joy in the air, dynamic.
But it was through ignorance of the terrible event that happened in the night while sleeping in their comfortable beds.
He would have happened between people, imposing his presence. A mature man in years. Hair white as jasmine, hard-faced and serious, such as who lived and live horrible things. His step was firm and strong, despite everything the right way, as if he touched the cross carry, crawl with dignity.
entered the station and looked around, checking the well-known place.
"Good morning, gentlemen," he greeted. His voice was thick and strong and cunning in her eyes.
A man looked at him and smiled, then return the nod.
"Good morning, Mr. Smith," I greeted a man Seriously, about thirty years. He just nodded, and then further into the site, looking for someone commanded to call.
-Smith gave way to greet the captain, I waited.
"I know, growled, annoying. The Chief only raised his left eyebrow.
"We have a case that could be interesting ..." Actually, I knew it would not be so, but needed his help. Although I would never say those words.
Another grunt was his reply.
"This is the murder of a young woman. He waited to see his reaction. We just identify it as Alice Porterfield, daughter of the Earl of Porterfield.
The green-eyed detective roughly fixed it.
- For a case of rich, call me, James ? He asked. Come on, you know I have no time for these things.
James looked at him as he took from a drawer a paper, a photograph in reality and then give it to the detective.
The reaction was immediate: from a cold and disinterested face, his eyes went from indifference to the surprise, recognition, doubt and returned to their normal state: silent.
did not know what had been, but was sure he had his claim.
Smith just grunted again y lo miró con rencor, mientras él sonreía arrogante.
―¿Qué tenemos de ella? ―preguntó, luego de un minuto.
James agarró un papel y leyó―: “Alice Porterfield, hija el Conde de Launceston. Diecisiete años, prometida del Marqués de Cornwall. Cabellos rubios con rulos, ojos celestes, un metro setenta.” Joven perfecta, vida perfecta. Amigas perfectas, también. ¡Estaba a punto de casarse con al marido perfecto!
- Many perfection, do not you think? Ironic, "said Smith. Give me that, I have to work.
then went to the door, closing with a bang.
James smiled triumphantly.
-
After getting a car to take him, Smith went to the first place where any detective worth his salt, he would.
the victim's house.
Well, "house" was not, really.
A tall man with dark hair, aristocratic bearing and exquisite. His gait was impressive, but still be fine.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Smith-waved away. Smith got up and shook his hand as she saw him come through the door of oak. The Count had a majestic air, like a King who was walking through his kingdom, and that provided a feeling of déjà vu.
"My deepest condolences, Mr Conde said.
"A terrible misfortune has overshadowed my day, Mr. Smith lamented.
"Sorry if I come to annoy, Count, but, you know, this case should not run out of criminal and has to pay for his crime, he said.
"I thought they already had. The Count's face was compared only to its tone, frightened and resentful at the same time. Labels, thought Smith.
"We have a suspect " corrected the detective, but the police chief ends to convince him not his fault and wants, with all her soul surrendered to the Almighty that the real murderer to suffer for their guilt among mortals, and that God in his supreme wisdom, know precisely when you get to punish him Its doors.
-understand, I understand, 'he said. But what help could give me, Detective?
-Information on friendships, problems, everything.
- Oh! You should know that my daughter and I, despite being so lonely since the death of the Countess
- Who, if I may ask? -Narrowed his eyes suspiciously.
-Her fiance, the Marquis of Cornwall, is in this humble home now "he said, with a sign, implied a servant to call the promised.
He arrived, minutes later, accompanied by a lady.
"Let me introduce you to my deceased daughter's fiancé, the Marquis of Cornwall, Pierre Bongiovanni and her friend, also my dear friend Alice, Miss Lady Mirelle of Gardyner.
The young, aristocratic bearing, dressed in sober clothes but full of jewelry, hair and dark eyes, kindly look, their bearing reminded the Prince himself. Her friend, so you could see on the other hand, was small, frail-looking, brown hair and brown eyes. Its movements were graceful, as if dancing, his face exuded kindness.
"My deepest condolences to those who suffer from this terrible loss," Smith said with a bow, then kiss the hand of Lady Gardyner.
"Our suffering is unbelievable, but it is diminished to see that others share, thank you very much to do with us," The Marquis seemed to suffer, but something about him gave him feeling that was in fact quite the opposite.
"Gentlemen, I must retire. A taste detective. And I hope they find who makes us go through this grief-Count retired.
"My Lord-Smith ruled by a sign, suggesting a seat.
Bongiovanni The Marquis gave his consent, Gardyner Lady sat down slowly, then look around and ask: - What is required of us, Mr. Detective? You know, we will do our best to help. "His voice was high, but according to your body.
-Coméntenme about his friendship with Lady Porterfield-asked, as he pulled a small notepad and a pen.
- Oh! She was a wonderful person, "he said. His voice ... it was beautiful, his way of being gracious. He moved like a bird! And his kindness was compared only with that of an angel.
"I had very good friends," said the Marquis, as he pressed the hand of his friend. He was faithful, intelligent, educated. How much he loved her! I could not have asked for better wife, but two weeks of our marriage, I snatched it.
- You mean that was getting married in two weeks? "Asked the detective.
"Yes, yes. She had gone to visit my hometown, days before. We wanted her to choose our quarters and requiring changes. "The Marquis sighed, moved.
"Beautiful, too. His face was ... worthy of a work of art. Oh, God! How I will miss his presence.
- I can not imagine what Jean has to suffer! "Said Pierre.
- Jean?
- Ah! The best friend of my dear Alice, "said Lady Mirelle. They were very close, almost like sisters.
"Yes. Jean and Alice were very friendly. They were always together, were so intimate-El Marqués something spiteful tone dyed a second, but did not go unnoticed. Then he tried to repair it, adding, "A woman part.
"Sure, clear, "said Smith. Any other friends? "People with whom you met?
-
"I understand. Anybody who had any problems with, touch?
"Nobody and no wonder, said women.
-avoid lending to discussions, it behaved correctly. It was nice to everyone! No one could hate her, even envy, "added the Marquis.
- Any friend more closely?
"Just Jean, who was the closest. And then, of course, those of
After visiting the homes of some of the friends named by Lady Mirelle and the Marquis, who provided him with directions, not only learned what I know: kind, friendly, quiet. Yes, he had disputes with her fiance, but never exaggerated and always arranged by the help of Lady Mirelle and her friend Jean, who had said, always kept on the right track.
tell But nobody knew where he knew the cabin or something that relates to John.
Annoyed and worth say, intrigued, decided to investigate more about the latter. After any way, although Alice Porterfield investigate about the only thing that would find more people saying the long list of virtues of the young. So I decided to travel to the town where he was born. There he met Rebecca Archer, sister of the accused. A cheerful girl, low height, long brown hair and brown eyes, a very cheerful and lively, despite the dark circumstances.
Ms. Archer said that some months ago, John was beginning to work caretaker of the cabin, but he did not know the owner, for his brother contacted him through his lawyer. Jhon just going to clean it, he said, once a week, for no one seemed interested in stealing it.
- Do you know about some people who go to your brother? "Questioned.
Rebecca looked thoughtful for a few seconds, then replied, triumphant and listless at the same time:
"I know you wanted a girl, liked prophesied his love, but do not know his name, I could not tell. Ah! and recently completed.
silence was established. Smith looked lost, puzzled and, if it could be even more annoying. Nothing fit there, nothing.
thing that confused him was that he could not Jhon conceive of that behavior. Could say that he knew John, even when told the name of "suspect" had doubted that this was the same John Neita Archer that he had been known for a few years ago when they lived in the same village and agreed on
How does someone with these characteristics, may have killed a young woman in cold blood?
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