The Black Rose Murders

“I knew him even though I’d never seen him before in my life.”

“How can you be sure, Miss…?”

“Jones, but you can call me Darla.” She told him as she flicked the ash from her cigarette into the tray on his desk. It was already overflowing, the smell of stale smoke wafting as the dust was unsettled.

“Okay Darla, how do you know it was him?” He asked, taking a perch on the side of his worn desk. His trouser leg rose revealing a pair of worn black socks tucked into a pair of shiny shoes.

“Well,” She blew the last of the smoke from her mouth. He watched it billow. “I knew about him, everybody did. He was the local mafia, the big boss, you know what I mean?” Her blue eyes watched him, certain of herself. She flicked her blonde hair behind her shoulder.

“So you’d heard about him?” He asked trying to clarify.

“Everybody had.” Her red lips pouted.

“Okay Darla, what I’m getting at here, I don’t quite understand how you figure he killed your sister.” He was blunt with her.

“He left his mark.”

“What do you mean?” He leaned forward.

“He left a rose. A black rose on her body.”

She stood up and clutched her red patent handbag under her arm and smiled slightly, “Please Mr Jonas, find him. Don’t worry about money, I can cover it.”

She strolled from the office her heels clicking loudly in the dull silent. The door slammed behind her, the pane bearing his name, now worn and tattered rattling in the frame. For a few moments James sat on his desk, thinking about Darla. He caught a scent of her perfume.

What a lady, he thought.

He began by looking up old newspaper articles about the murders, he’d known about the guy, heard about the things he’d done, but then he had always lived in another place. And Mr Black had never been convicted, always had an airtight alibi. James didn’t think he’d ever come up against this.

The first article he read went like this:

BRUTAL MURDER IN LOCAL PARK

A woman, aged 23, has been found dead in park by a man on Monday who alerted the authorities. The young woman’s body was found with multiple wounds made with a sharp object. The coroner has deemed the time of death on Sunday evening and the cause as being blood loss.

A rose was left on the young lady’s body, a black rose. Police believe this is a token.

The young lady’s family have been informed. If you were in the vicinity of Jedburgh Park on Sunday night between 6 and 10pm please contact the police on 0845 243 243.

James read a few more articles, all similar cases, all of the women left with a black rose upon her chest. He decided a search would be appropriate. He typed in the name ‘Black, Mr’ to see what results he would get from the database.

He got 1300 matches back. He had to narrow it down. He tried ‘Black, R. Mr.”

This time he only got 300 matches, that was more reasonable. Opening the list he began to trawl through the names and check which cities these Mr Black’s lived in. Only four of them were currently residing in Los Angeles. He made a note of those four names and addresses on a pad next to his computer.

He would have to make some visits. He tore off the sheet of paper and folded it into his pocket and picked up his hat. He left the office, flicking off the lights behind him.

James Jonas, Private Investigator was closed for the night, officially.

He tried the first address, making it in good time across the night-time streets of LA. He was lucky to see the door open and watch as a young man walked outside. He looked to be around 20, his face still full of the youth it held so fully just a few years before. James doubted this was his man. He crossed him off on the list.

The second house was a big house in the biggest estate in LA. James felt out of place just being there. He sat outside in his car, minus lights and sound, for some time hoping to get a glimpse of the man behind the door. After an hour of watching and still no sign of any life James gave up for the night. He made a mental note to himself to check back there.

He drove home to his small flat, heating up some leftovers from the night before. He ate this fast, not tasting much but wolfing it down anyway. He climbed into bed and set his alarm for the next morning.

The next thing he knew he was woken up by a loud bang coming from the living room of his flat. It was still dark. James jumped from his bed and picked up his revolver taking the safety off. He always carried the gun but had never had to use it. With ease he crept forward making his way to the front room, bare feet falling silent on bare floorboards. He could feel his heart thumping in his chest.

He heard it again, another thump. Something dropping to the floor he thought. Then very quietly as if muttered under the breath, he heard a curse. He reached his hand around the doorframe, found the switch and flicked on the light.

The man who stood in his living room froze, caught like a deer in headlights.

“Who are you?” James asked, his voice gruff.

“I…I…” The man stuttered, his hands already in the air.

“I said, who are you?” His voice returned to normal. He lifted the gun pointing it at the man clothed in black. James could see he was shaking.

“He…he told me to do it.” His voice shook too.

“Who did?”

“The Rose.”

James stopped and straightened up, the gun dropping to his side. “The Rose?”

“Mr Black. He saw you outside of his house, wanted me to find out who you are.”

“A spy huh?” James smirked.

“Please don’t tell him, please, he’ll hurt me. He’ll hurt Kim.” The man pleaded, his eyes filling up.

“Don’t worry I won’t tell him. But I want you to report back nothing, say I wasn’t here and there was nothing on me. Got it?”

“Yes sir.”

“Go on, get out of here.” James motioned to the back door that stood ajar. The man raced towards it yanking it open and dashing outside. He heard the footsteps all the way down the metal stairwell clanking noisily.

So he was in, he just didn’t want me to know it, James mused. I’ve got the right guy, now just to catch him out.

James took to his bed again but didn’t sleep. He laid awake thinking of Mr Black, of The Roses and his token.

What made him choose those girls?

When the alarm clock buzzed at seven James was ready for it. He swung his legs out of bed meeting the brisk air with a small shudder before jumping in an even colder shower. He made it quick. Hopefully this case would get him the money to pay for some hot water.

He decided he would need to know more about the previous murders. He recalled the newspaper articles he had read the previous day as he reached the office. He walked in and felt the early morning sun warming him. In the office he brewed a pot of coffee and settled down with it, ready to face the day and catch this guy.

He read through dozens of articles from The Daily, The Star and The Telegraph. All had covered the Black Rose Murders, as they had been dubbed, with an eagerness. It seems the murders had culminated only a month previous. All of the girls were victims of the same crime as Darla had described.

Her sister had been found in a park not far from James’ office. She had died as they others had, the wounds indicating a sharp weapon. She had been sliced many times across her torso and she had died from blood loss. She had been found by Darla herself.

James remembered the conversation.

“I just knew something was wrong, we’re twins, it’s like telepathy.”

“And you knew where to go?”

“Not exactly,” She had lowered her eyes then. “I just knew something was wrong and as I got closer and closer the feeling got stronger. And there she was.” She had been worried James didn’t believe her.

Darla was worried she was next. She had seen there was a pattern to the murders as he had, but could not explain what it was. She was brighter than the average.

James soon came across a pattern in the MO of the murders. All of these girls were from well-to-do families. All of them had father’s who worked in the political business. Maybe that was the connection. Blackmail, threats. James had his lead and it was time to follow it.

The telephone rang. James picked up the receiver, “Hello?”

“Mr Jonas,” The voice was strong but muffled. “Leave well alone, stop pursuing this case.” The voice told him.

“Who-”

The phone clicked off. Somebody trying to put him off the case. Threats didn’t scare James.

He began investigating the families of the girl’s who had been killed. The men in the family were all involved in the same company, not spending all of their time together but the connection was there nonetheless.

How did the police not come up with this?{/}

He called Darla, “Hello?”

“Darla it’s Mr Jonas. Listen I think I can catch the guy. I need you to do something for me.”

“What’s that Mr Jonas?” Her voice purred down the phone.

“I need you to be my bait.”

“Where do I need to be?”

“Be at the park on Sunday night.”

“But-” Her heard a hint of panic in her voice.

“Don’t worry,” He cut her off. “I’ll be there, I’ll protect you.”

“Okay, I’ll do it. I’ll be there about seven.” She told him and put the phone down. James wondered how she was feeling.

Sunday soon came. James prepared himself, scouted out the park. Nothing out of the ordinary that he could see. As night approached he concealed himself and waited. He had his gun at the ready and waited. He had instructed Darla to sit on the bench and wait there for a while before taking a stroll.

Soon enough she appeared around the corner. She was wearing a long overcoat, bare legs visible beneath it. He wondered what she wore. Her blonde hair was pinned back from her face. Her lips were bright red, visible even in the moonlight.

She sat on the bench and pulled something out of her bag and began fiddling with it. James couldn’t be sure if it was real or a decoy. For the whole while she sat there nothing happened. After around 15 minutes Darla stood up sliding something back into her bag and began her route on the path as James had instructed. Her heels clicked noisily in the quiet night air.

James followed silently, keeping to the shadows of the trees, hiding behind their cover. He heard nothing though listened intently.

Then a scream pierced the night air, long and shrill. Darting from his hideout James rushed towards the sound just metres down the path. He saw a dark black figure hunched over, struggling; with Darla he presumed. He pounced on the back, feeling the muscles flex as the figure let go of Darla, aiming for him.

He heard a grunt as a pair of hands reached around for him but missed. James kicked out and hit something hard, a leg, and heard another grunt. Knees buckled and the figure fell to his knees. Taking his chance James stood up, cocked his gun and pressed it against the back of his head.

“Freeze!” He shouted, voice echoing around the empty park. The man held his hands high above his head.

James saw Darla on the pavement just in front of the crouched figure watching the action. Her coat had rucked up over her thighs, a black pencil skirt visible to him.

“You okay?” He called to her. She only nodded, panting a little.

“You, hands behind your back.” He spoke to the man. He complied and James pulled out a pair of cuffs, strapping them tightly together. He yanked him up by the cuffs, hearing the man curse in protest.

“Nice to finally meet you Mr Black.” James spoke, feeling a little smug.

The police arrived several minutes later, lights and sirens blazing.

“How did you do it?” One policeman asked him. “We’ve been after him for years.”

James explained to the cop about the connections between the killings.

“We knew about that, we knew what linked them all together, we knew we had him but he’s always got solid alibis.” The police man scratched his head.

“He’s was blackmailing the men, if they told, if they talked, he would go after their families.” James informed.

“But having their daughers killed, I mean, what's to lose after that?”

“Their wives. I found another article about a murder that occurred before any of the Black Rose Murders. Mrs Capell and her daughter were murdered brutally in their home, both found with evidence of being sexually assaulted. The husband, Mr Capell, owed a lot of money to these guys and couldn’t pay up. They went after his family as payment.”

The man’s mouth hung open in shock.

“And gentleman, this,” James pulled down the dark hood of the man he had cuffed. “Is Mr Capell.”

“Revenge murders,” The cop nodded as if he had known all along. “Thanks Jonas, we’ll take it from here.” He took hold of the cuffs that bound the man and led him to the police car.

Mr Capell said nothing.

“Darla,” James sauntered over to the woman who sat on the park bench set into the grass. She looked up to him.

“Thank you, Mr Jonas. I feel at peace now.” She smiled, thanking him.

“Just doing my job.” He muttered, not used to taking compliments.

“I mean it, thank you.” She leaned forward and pressed her lips against his. He felt the warmth and could smell her perfume overwhelm him.
“Oh and Mr Jonas,” She said as she stood up. “I wouldn’t look into investigating my father. He’s a bad man.”

She strolled away into the night, the clicking of her red heels fading into the distance.


Word Count - 2448



Winner of:

ID: 1559894 Invalid Item  This item number is not valid. by Not Available.