Mercy Abbott - The Kiss of Death

The New Case

Mercy's hands began to shake in anticipation of what she was about to read. She knew the letter was from Amy.

She sat down on her bed and held the letter near the light. Bobo sat beside her purring softly. The letter read-

"Today's the day I shall be free. I'm going to face my stalker and reveal his identity in front of everyone.

Enough of this fear- this constant dread of not knowing who's lurking in the shadows with their dirty eyes on me.

I am being watched since the last few days. I don't how but I constantly have this feeling that someone's always watching me everyday. It started as soon as I met that charming guy at the after party. He was smart, kind and offered to walk me back to my room. I felt a strange connection with him after that and we began to see each other for a few days. But after a week everything changed, he failed to show up at our last date and he stopped replying my calls or the countless messages I sent him.

I was frustrated and worried sick and that's when this creepy feeling started to arise- there's someone watching me all the time- I haven't seen his face but I know he's there. I have seen his silhouette once or twice- he seemed to be a tall, slender guy.

He's there when I brush my hair in the morning- I can sense his presence as I look out of my window- or when I'm in the library all alone- I can feel him standing behind the rows of endless books. Call it a woman's intuition but I know he doesn't mean well- he's here to hurt me.

Could it be the same guy I met earlier? My date? But he seemed so nice. He said that he was a chef from France and was invited here as a guest. He said his name was Miguel. He spoke with a bit of an accent so I think he's genuine. No, I don't think that's my stalker.

But today I'm gonna find out - I'm gonna go after him and face him. He likes to hide in the shadows? I shall wait for him in the shadows...I can't bear it anymore...even if it's dangerous i have to do this.

This letter is meant for you Mercy. I know I haven't been kind to you but you seemed like a sensible person to share my story. Nobody else will ever believe my story and they'll think I made it up to gain more attention. After all who'd not want a secret,charming and rich French boyfriend?

**P.S** I will find a way to sneak this letter in your bag.I have to do it in a manner that my stalker doesn't notice .I may or may not return but I wanted someone to know about my misery...

With love,

Amy.

Mercy couldn't believe her eyes that such a vital piece of information was hidden in her bag all this time? But when did she put the letter in her bag? Then she remembered their last encounter when she met with Amy and sat with her on the park bench, she must have sneaked the letter then.

But what is she supposed to do now? The stalker? The secret boyfriend? Are they same person? But why would the boyfriend disappear only to reappear and haunt her? Was she murdered because she faced her stalker?

All these questions made her adrenaline rush. She jumped out of her bed and began to walk up and down her room trying to put the pieces of the mystery together. She looked at her table clock- it was almost 3 in the morning - "the devil's hour"- as they say. Mercy felt like she was possessed by the devil itself- she couldn't sleep anymore. Amy had trusted her as her only reliable friend and here she was thinking that she never thought of as her friend. She felt sorry for her and at th same time - she knew that she had to do something for her- but what could she do?

"Yes! The party! Amy said that she met the guy at some after party- I need to start looking for some names of the people who came to the party….yes… but which party? Probably the one that the boys from the university celebrated after they won the amateur Chess competition…but that would mean that loads of people were invited, it would be like looking for a needle in a bucket of needles! No… I just need to find about a french guy- who's a professional Chef. But what was a french chef doing at a party in our university? He said he was invited? I need to know more about this party….and I think I know exactly whom to ask.",

Mercy thought as she sat on her bed.

It was almost morning and Mercy still didn't feel like sleeping. She went to her kitchen and prepared some tea. She then took out her diary and copied down the key words and phrases from Amy's letter and circled those words. Words like - Chef,Party,French,Stalker,guy disappears,stalker appears…etc made her list. Then she thought about contacting the police and handing the evidence over to them but then they would arouse more suspicions if they started investigating in the boys hostel. She thought it would be best that she'd better find all the evidences on her own and then invite the police to help her.

She looked at her clock again- almost 6 a.m. She thought it would be better for her to take a cold shower. She had her classes at 9 but she thought of skipping class and investigating the case on her own.

An hour later, she got ready to go out and do some investigating. She opened the door of her room and stepped out. As soon as she did , she stepped on something. She looked down and saw a flower- a single hydrangea flower sitting right on her doorstep. Mercy gasped. It was the same type of flower that she saw on Amy's bed. She immediately looked around to see if there was anyone else. But all she saw was an empty hall way and all she heard was the relentless gossiping and laughing coming from the rooms of the other girls in the hostel.

Mercy kneeled down and picked up the flower. What was a flower doing at her doorstep? Does this means that the killer had spotted her? But how?

She stood up and looked at the flower- there was nothing special about it - they were very common and easy to find, nevertheless she put it in her bag and began to walk down the stairs. As she descended downstairs - she began to wonder whether it was a co-incidence that she found a flower on her door step or was it the killer's way of letting her know that he has found her and he knows that she has the letter. Mercy knew that this would mean that the letter holds the key to the killer's identity.

She walked out into the morning sun- she felt warm and cozy. The grad students were rushing towards their classes and a few of the professors were slowly walking behind them. Mercy walked towards the cafeteria- she knew it was the best place to start her investigation and also she was starving.

The cafeteria was in a rush that morning - some of the grad students had their semester exams in a few hours and they gathered there to grab a cuppa joe and to discuss about their exam strategies. Mercy never liked coffee- she prefered tea. She stepped upto the counter and ordered a simple breakfast of an omelette and bread. She took her meal and sat at the corner table. She looked around- she was surrounded by noisy, nervous kids- some going over their notes in silence- others arguing over football.

She started having her breakfast in silence but her eyes were fixated on the door- she was waiting for her junior- Rudy. She knew Rudy came here every morning at the exact same time and sat there in silence while she had her morning coffee. Everyone kept their distance from Rudy- she was known to be weird and it was also rumoured that she practiced Black Magic! She stayed with her aunt in a remote neighbourhood who dabbled in the black arts and voodoo. Mercy never believed in all these rumours and actually thought that Rudy was a shy but brilliant kid but lacked social skills. She never talked much and kept to herself but she had a keen sense of observation - she somehow knew things that no one else knew- she kept her eyes and ears opened and always had information on anything going on in the university. She was like a spy in disguise except everyone knew about it and people would approach her and ask for some information for a small fee.

Mercy nervously kept looking at the door and her watch. It was almost 8 a.m. Rudy would come any minute. She began to shake her legs in nervous anticipation.

Mercy turned and twisted in her chair as the killer drew closer swinging his axe- whistling playfully- like a predator playing with its prey one last time before it kills it.

She knew it was a do or die situation- she had to put together all the clues to reveal his identity now or he will know that she's bluffing.

"Think Mercy think!!", she said to herself closing her eyes.

"So? Who am I? Tell me!", asked the man pointing an axe to her face.

Mercy felt a spark in her mind- she suddenly knew who he was.

"You are not a chef- nor are you french-you're the one who owns Rotunda!!", she replied.

The killer froze. His cover was blown but he was calm.

"Everyday you watch and stalk pretty women who come to dine at your restaurant with their men and you secretly tape their bedroom affairs and blackmail them- asking them for regular favours- you have everything you need- money,luxury,influence but you can't seem to satisfy your lust for women you can't have- I'd say you had some serious heartbreak in your early years and somehow it turned you into this perverted, sick and disgusting animal that you are now….Shall I continue Mr.Phillip Braugher ?", said Mercy triumphantly.

The killer was shocked. He put down his axes on the ground and took of his mask.

"God Damn it! You're smart!", he said sounding quite impressed.

"it just makes me want to ave you even more…Wow…nobody … nobody knew about me… but you…umh! You're one helluva girl…But how did you find out?", he asked squatting down on the floor.

Mercy was getting scared now. He was behaving like a mad man and she had no other defence to protect her from this craziness- all she could do was stall him with her words.

"The flowers- you shouldn't have left them everywhere-", Mercy replied.

"Those stupid flowers led you to me?C'mon you're kidding me!", he said laughing at her.

"Yes, in case you haven't noticed, you sent those flowers wrapped in a bouquet and it's wrapped in a particular style- always in one particular style- You use this style of decoration all over in your hotel on all of your flower designs...", she explained.

"Wait … wait .. hold on… you got this from a style of decoration?", he asked.

"Yes- you had easy access to the flowers from the shop across the street and you wrapped those flowers by yourself like you do in your hotel…a force of habit and you spike those flowers with a strong anaesthetic which you get from one of your client who's a doctor.. so it makes sense now…",she continued.

"Go on…how di I kill your friend?", he said attentively listening to her explanation like a kid.

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