Needle in a Haystack

I wrote this back in high school, and it needs some work. Still, I like the concept and may develop it into a series of shorts or even a full book (of course).

Needle in a Haystack

The body was slumped almost gracefully over the small writing desk. It was the first time in his terminated life that Count Halrick Melborne had ever looked graceful. His body overflowed from the chair in gently rolling waves of fat, and his once ruddy complexion was made fashionably pale by the coldness of death. His eyes were open, and where once they had been a pale azure, now they were like chips of ice that matched the sparkling shards of a broken wineglass lying on the rug. It was a beautiful and poetic death; it would almost seem as if the count had died of a heart attack. But, then again, there was the knife protruding rudely from the count’s back to consider.

“I fetched you as soon as I found him. I know you’re here to relax and get away from the city, but I didn’t know who else to turn to.” The young maid wrung her hands nervously and looked out from behind a protective curtain of lank, dull brown hair.

“I’ll forgive you this once, Mena.” Lucky smiled to take the sting out of his words, but the smile did not reach his grey eyes. Running a hand through sable hair, he stepped closer to the body. As a thief, he was no stranger to death, and he could understand why Mena had called him of all people. He was, after all, the man who had found and killed her brother’s murderer. It had been an accident at the time, but still.

Carefully, the thief stretched out one long-fingered hand and touched the body just where the knife protruded. He pursed his lips in puzzlement, and stepped back until he stood beside Mena. Idly, he scratched his head.

“I’m not used to being on the side of the law. But…well, I suppose the first question to ask would be, what killed him?”

“Lucky, there’s a knife in his back.”

“I see that, but do you notice how little blood there is? That’s wine on the floor. The count was dead long before he was stabbed. So what killed him? We can’t even call this a murder until we know that. Also, who would be vengeful enough to stab a corpse?” Lucky looked around the room and nodded to a closed door. “Where does that lead?”

“To Lady Ursula’s quarters.”

He walked over to the door and jiggled the handle. “Is it always locked?”

“Usually. The Lady and the Count haven’t so much as spoken to each other much since their son was born. But when I got here this morning, it was open a little ways. Someone must have closed it when I sent for you.”

“Huh.” Lucky glanced at the count’s bed. It was neatly made. “You didn’t touch anything?”

“No.”

“Well, the count obviously didn’t indulge in any…activities last night.” Grinning lasciviously, Lucky dug a bent wire out of his pocket. Inserting it into the keyhole of the door, he jiggled it around for a moment and triumphantly pushed the door open. He stuck his head into Lady Ursula’s room, but only looked around before withdrawing and closing the door.

“Well, I think it’s safe to say that the Lady did enjoy some late night antics.”

Mena paled. “You don’t think…?”

“It’s a possibility. If the lady preferred her lover to her husband, it’s entirely plausible that she would try to get him out of the way. The door being open is very suspicious.”

“But you said it might not be murder.”

Lucky shrugged. “It might not. Then again, it might. I really want to find the person who stabbed him. Their motive could be interesting. But for now, let’s visit the dear Lady Ursula.”

“Uh, well…” Mena hesitated. “I really should be getting back to my chores.”

“Right. I’ll talk with you later then.” They left the room, shutting the door carefully behind them. Lucky walked quickly toward the entrance hall of the mansion, hoping to find a servant who could direct him to the Lady.

He reached the grand staircase leading down to the hall and paused as raised voices floated up to him. Mentally, he saluted Lady Luck, his own personal deity and namesake. It would appear that his search for Lady Ursula was over before it had a chance to begin.

“To hell with that!” a man raged, “I want it now! None of this damn investigating! You will give me my money, or so help me…!”

“How dare you speak to me that way? I am your mother! For god’s sake, your father is dead! Show some compassion!”

Standing at the top of the stairs, Lucky cleared his throat.

“Who the hell are you?” Lord Halvard Melborne snapped. Lucky opened his mouth to reply, but Lady Ursula cut him off.

“He’s the investigator, dolt! Am I correct?” She glared at him suspiciously.

“Uh,” Lucky stammered, “You’re correct.” He descended the stairs.

“You look somewhat familiar…where have I seen your face before?” Lord Halvard turned away, muttering to himself. Lucky winced; there were wanted posters for him all over the country.

“Ah! Have you ever visited Clarissa’s?”

Recognizing the name of a popular brothel, Lucky smiled. “Guilty as charged, I’m afraid.”

“I knew I liked you.” Lord Halvard beamed. His previous bad mood seemed to be completely gone. “But now, about this investigation. Is it really necessary?”

“The count was an important man with important friends who will be curious about the suspicious nature of his death.”

“He was stabbed, wasn’t he?” Lord Halvard’s morbid curiosity shone clearly on his face. Lady Ursula was pale.

Lucky hesitated. There was no sense in telling them more than they needed to know. “Yes, he was stabbed.” But that wasn’t what killed him.

Lord Halvard waved a bejeweled hand nonchalantly. “I don’t give a damn who killed the old bastard. I want my inheritance.”

“You inherit quite a lot, don’t you?” Lucky smiled disarmingly.

“Everything. I inherit everything.” He rounded on his mother. “And the first thing I’m going to do as count is get rid of you.” Turning on his heel, the young lord stormed out of the mansion.

“Quite a temper that one has.” Lucky turned to Lady Ursula. “May I ask you a few questions?”

“I suppose. If you think it will help. But I will tell you flat out that I didn’t kill my husband.”

“Oh, I know that. You were much to busy last night to worry about your husband.”

“How…?”

“I am a very good investigator, Lady. Who were you with last night?”

Ursula shifted uncomfortably. “He’s a servant.”

“A servant? That’s quite a comedown from a count.”

She snorted. “Not really. At least Alexander has a decently sized…” She froze, eyes wide in shock. “Forgive me. I should not speak with such vulgarity.”

“I find it charming.”

The Lady smiled nervously. “Is that all you wanted to know?”

“No. The connecting door between the count’s room and yours was open when the body was found, but closed and locked when I arrived. Do you know anything about that?”

“No. That door hasn’t been opened since I conceived Halvard. How strange. Is that all?”

“I have one more question. May I have the body?”

“What?”

“I would like to examine your late husband more closely.”

“Please. I may have been married to the man, but he was not my husband. You may mutilate his body in any way you wish.”

“My thanks.” Lucky turned to leave, but Lady Ursula stopped him.

“You will be staying here tonight?”

“If I don’t solve this murder today, yes.”

She nodded. “I will have the servants prepare a guest room for you.”

Lucky bowed and left the hall. After a slight hesitation, he decided to leave his examination of the body for later. He would spend his time questioning Lady Ursula’s lover instead. It would be interesting to compare their stories.

It took Lucky half an hour of wheedling with the maids and another half hour buttering up the cook to track down the elusive Alexander. It turned out that the boy was a groom whose love affair with the Lady Ursula was the most openly kept secret in the mansion.

The stable was dim. For a moment, Lucky stood still, letting his eyes adjust. A soft nicker to his right made him turn toward his gelding, Jackpot. He slid his feet sideways so as not to bump into any unseen objects and held his hand out to his horse just as a pitchfork whistled past his head and buried itself in the floor where he had been standing. Lucky lunged forward, placing Jackpot’s body between himself and his unseen attacker. Mentally, he thanked his Lady Luck.

Footsteps pounded in the hayloft above him. Lucky leapt out of the stall and scrambled up the ladder. He saw the dim shape of a man hiding in the shadows before a pile of straw was thrown into his face. Sneezing convulsively, he scratched frantically at the dirt in his eyes as a body tackled him. They rolled through the hay until there was emptiness below them and they fell from the loft. Lucky twisted in midair so that his attacker was under him when they crashed into the floor.

Breathing heavily, Lucky staggered to his feet and looked down at the broken body of the young man who had tried to kill him. Slowly, Alexander opened his eyes.

“Why…?” Blood frothed at his lips; a broken rib had punctured his lung.

“I am sorry. I didn’t want to kill you.”

Alexander closed his eyes wearily. His breathing gurgled gently as larger bubbles spilled out of his mouth. “You! I…saw the assassin…he came in…through Ursula’s window.... It was...” Alexander never revealed the murderer. Blood frothed out of his mouth as his eyes dimmed.

Lucky slowly bowed his head. “No witnesses,” he whispered. Giving Jackpot a quick pat, he left the stable.

Lord Halvard stood just outside holding the reigns of his palomino stallion. “Detective, tell that layabout of a groom to get off his arse and attend me.”

“I’m afraid I can’t, my lord. Alexander is dead.”

Lord Halvard stared at him. “What the hell happened?”

“He fell out of the hayloft,” Lucky shrugged.

For a moment, Lord Halvard just stared. Then he grinned sadistically. “Probably got a little too feisty with one of the maids. Serves him right; he was a lazy bastard.”

Lucky nodded absently, then sighed. “My lord? May I ask you a few questions about your father’s murder?”

“The hell you cannot!” Lord Halvard’s temper snapped. “The bastard deserved what he got, and if I was facing the man who did it right now, I would shake his hand and offer him half the inheritance. Good day to you.” The young lord stomped off, leading his horse into the stable.

“Interesting,” Lucky murmured. Shaking his head, he walked into the mansion.

The entrance hall was empty. Lucky looked around, for a moment unsure of what to do next. No incriminating evidence had manifested and the only witness was dead. Granted, Alexander had attacked him first. Lucky sighed. He was not looking forward to facing Ursula over the death of her lover. Perhaps it could be avoided if he busied himself with the examination of the body.

He half ran up the stairs to reach the count’s bedroom. Opening the door, he strode in and began swearing. The body had been moved to lie on the bed. More importantly, the knife had disappeared.

“I thought it would be easier for you to examine.” Lucky whirled to face the side of the room hidden by the open door. Mena stood beside a cabinet, wringing her hands. Lucky’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, and he stalked toward her. She shifted, putting herself more firmly in front of the cabinet.

“Mena….” He growled warningly.

With a strangled sob, she dashed away from the cabinet. Lunging, Lucky just managed to catch her arm. He dragged her back and threw her into the chair that the count’s body had recently vacated.

“Stay there,” he snapped. Then he turned his attention to the cabinet. It was well made, but the lock was a cheap thing. He inserted his wire and had it open in a trice. Inside gleamed the missing knife. He removed it, and held it up. Mena buried her head in her hands.

“Why, Mena,” Lucky sighed, “Why did you stab him?”

“He raped me! The bastard raped me! And then he laughed. When I saw him there, dead, I couldn’t help myself. I had to get some sort of revenge! Please, Lucky, please believe me! I didn’t kill him!”

“We’ve already established that the knife didn’t kill him.” Mena hiccuped and looked on hopefully as Lucky moved to stand over the body. “I wish you hadn’t moved him.”

“Then you believe me?”

“Yes.”

She threw herself out of the chair and into his arms. “Oh, thank you, Lucky! Thank you.”

He pushed her away. “I want you gone, Mena. Leave this place. You know that to defile the body of a noble is a crime. Go back to the city.”

She hesitated, then nodded and left the room. Lucky sighed and shook his head. His attention focused on the body in front of him and his eyes narrowed.

“Let’s find out what really killed you,” he muttered. Deftly, he stripped the body and examined every inch. His hands gently probed, searching for wounds that the eye could not see. Below the count’s right ear, his fingers found a slight swelling.

He drew back and turned the count’s stiffened neck to view the area in the light. A tiny puncture wound marred the skin. He touched it again, and then stood back, smiling slightly.

 “Looks like nothing more that a bee sting. That’s the mark of a good assassin,” he murmured to himself admiringly. With a grin, he left the room.

Lucky prowled down the hallway until he reached Lord Halvard’s small suite. The door was conveniently unlocked, but he still took extreme caution slipping inside. Shutting the door behind him, he gazed around. His eyes lighted on a writing desk, and he approached it slowly. Sitting openly on the desk was the item he had been searching for. It almost looked as if it had been planted. Except there was a half-finished note in the young lord’s handwriting that mentioned some vague plan to murder the late count.

Snatching up the note and the other item, Lucky left the room and quickly descended the stairs to the entrance hall. Lady Ursula and Lord Halvard faced each other, once more arguing. Lucky quickly stepped between them.

“Lady. Lord. I have solved the mystery. I know who murdered the poor count.”

“Good man,” Lord Halvard stated, “End this damn investigation so I can claim my right as count.” Lady Ursula sputtered indignantly at this statement.

Lucky shook his head. “I’m afraid you won’t be the count of anything. You see I found this in your room.” He held out the letter. Lady Ursula snatched it from his hand and quickly skimmed the contents. Her eyes blazed when she looked back up at her treacherous child.

“How could you? He was your father!”

“That letter doesn’t mean a damn thing! Yes, I wrote it, but I did not kill my father.”

“Oh,” Lucky said, “I think you did.” He held out his other hand. In it was nestled a thin silver needle. “Do you know what this is, Lady? I believe you do, Halvard, since you used it to murder the count. But for the Lady’s benefit…. It is a hollow needle. Filled with serpent venom. The needle was inserted into the count’s neck, just below the right ear. Very little blood would have been spilt, and he would have died within seconds. What say you to that, my lord?”

“I have never seen that thing before in my life.” Lord Halvard spoke quietly, aware that his life hung by a thin thread.

“But it was on your desk, next to this letter planning your father’s death.”

“It isn’t mine!”

“Lock him up!” Lady Ursula gestured, and two liveried armsmen appeared on either side of the young lord. They grabbed his arms and led him away, shouting.

“No! I didn’t do it! That damn woman wants my money! She gets everything, now! Everything! Damn you! Let me go!” His shouts died away. Curious servants returned to their duties until only Lady Ursula and Lucky remained in the hall.

“Thank you,” she said.

“It was no trouble,” Lucky replied, but he held out his hand. “I would like to be paid now so I can get on my way.”

The lady shook her head. “Your horse is already being saddled. You will find your payment in the saddlebags. Here. This is for your...extra trouble.” She handed him a small, heavy velvet bag. He opened it and peered inside, then raised an eyebrow.

“It isn’t half the inheritance,” Lady Ursula said, “But I thought you deserved something special.”

Lucky closed the bag, hiding the fiery diamonds within from sight. He bowed to the lady, and then strode outside. Jackpot was saddled as the lady had promised, and his saddlebags fairly bulged with gold coins. Lucky shook his head. No, it wasn’t half the inheritance, but it was a fortune for a thief from the city.

He climbed into the saddle and swung Jackpot out the gate onto the main road. After walking for a bit, he slowed the horse to a stop. Leaning down, he slid the small silver needle into a hidden seam in his boot. Beside it rested other, similar needles. Clicking to Jackpot, he continued on his way back to the city.

He had lived on his own since he was a very small boy and had learned many skills. He really was a jack-of-all-trades; policeman, judge, thief, forger, ...and assassin.