Story One
Jonathan Trench, the world’s leading private investigator, had found this mystery to be his most difficult since the Maharaja’s golden dagger had been discovered sticking out of the back of his servant boy. That case had taken Jonathan almost three days to solve.
Now he had gathered everyone in the drawing room of Lord Robert’s stately home. Lady Robert had been murdered, and Jonathan was finally ready to reveal the killer.
Everyone was there except Robert, the son of Lord and Lady Robert. His twin sister, Roberta, sat quietly beside the fireplace.
Jonathan stood in the middle of the room.
“I have to say I’m disappointed, although not surprised, that young Robert hasn’t joined us.”
Roberta looked up.
“Why would you be surprised? He isn’t required to be here. Legally, he can do as he pleases.”
Jonathan smiled.
“Indeed. However, during my investigation I discovered something rather interesting. You and your brother are very close, aren’t you?”
“We’re twins.”
“Precisely. And yet nobody I have spoken to has ever seen the two of you together.”
Roberta stared at him.
Jonathan turned to the room, sweeping one arm towards his audience.
“There can therefore be only one conclusion. Robert and Roberta are in fact…”
The drawing-room door opened.
Robert walked in.
“Sorry I’m late.”
Jonathan stared at him.
Nobody spoke.
“Exactly as I suspected.”
He turned to the policeman standing beside him.
“Arrest the butler.”
Story Two
They had finally managed to place the last point at the very top, exactly as the plans had shown.
In truth, the construction hadn’t been particularly difficult once they’d discovered the laser cutters and the levitating lift device. It was strange to think that after centuries of scientific investigation and invention, some of their greatest advances had come from old technology found buried in a cave on the other side of the world.
By the time the opening ceremony began, thousands had gathered around the two enormous structures. Some had travelled for weeks to be there. Others had come much further, arriving from the outer planets only that morning.
The speeches went on longer than expected.
Eventually, the man responsible for overseeing the construction stepped forward.
“Thank you all for coming. I know many of you have travelled a very long way. Some considerably further than others.”
There was laughter from the crowd.
“What we’ve completed here will, I hope, remain long after all of us are gone.”
He turned towards the two vast structures.
Someone handed him a glass. What it contained, we will never know.
He raised it above his head.
“The Pyramids.”
Thousands of glasses were raised.
“The Pyramids.”
Story Three
Every Friday, Margaret cleaned the flat.
She had been doing it for years. She changed the bedding, wiped down the kitchen and emptied the bins. Afterwards, she usually left a pint of milk in the fridge.
One Friday she noticed a second toothbrush in the bathroom.
She smiled but said nothing.
The following week there were two mugs beside the sink.
Then a pair of trainers appeared by the front door.
Margaret continued cleaning.
A month later she arrived and found a note on the kitchen table.
Mum,
Please don’t come in today.
Margaret read it twice.
She put the milk in the fridge, cleaned the bathroom, changed the bedding and vacuumed the living room.
Before leaving, she put the note back exactly where she’d found it.
The following Friday, her key didn’t fit.
Story Four
“What’ve you got for your lunch?” Andy asked.
“Well, my wife got me a new flask,” Arthur said. “Then she made me lentil soup to put in it.”
Andy looked at the flask.
“That’s love, Arthur. That is. Not only does she buy you a flask, she even lets you take it to work.”
Everyone laughed.
Arthur shook his head.
Mortimer walked into the canteen.
Mortimer was a quiet man. He brought soup to work every day in the same red flask. Today, though, the flask was tartan.
Arthur noticed it.
“New flask?”
Andy looked over.
“Soup again?”
“Yes, Arthur. No, Andy.”
Mortimer unscrewed the top, turned the flask upside down and emptied the contents onto a plate.
Fish, chips and peas.
Everyone cheered.
Story Five
Forty-seven shots to the head. That’s what all the papers said.
Jenny wasn’t an abused wife or downtrodden in any way. She and Paul had been married for twenty-six years, raised three children and, as far as anyone knew, were happy.
Paul worked hard at the plant. There was always a roof over their heads, clothes on their backs and food on the table.
Then one night Jenny shot him forty-seven times while he slept.
She never said why.
Not to the police. Not during the trial. Not once in the forty years that followed.
Her children grew older and one by one they died. When her daughter, the last of the three, died at sixty-two, Jenny had outlived them all.
Three months later, Jenny was dying herself.
She asked her grandson to sit beside the bed.
“You want to know why I killed your grandfather?”
He nodded.
“He broke my mother’s rocking chair. Snapped the frame. She’d been dead six years and it was all I had left of hers. He never admitted it. Never apologised.”
Her grandson stared at her.
Jenny closed her eyes.
“Ruined a perfectly good bed as well. And the pillows.”
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