Everyone is Fair Game

Placing his trusty and tattered black notebook back into his jacket pocket, the detective scanned the crime scene one more time. The notebook that he carried everywhere, all dogeared and with some pages barely holding on to the book’s gutter. He kept the book in two places, either his jacket pocket or at his bedside. When he’d received the notebook he distinctively noticed the scent. It was that all familiar and very unique aroma that only books possess. One of his favourites smells in the world.

He'd noted the bright red splatters on the carpet and curtains. The half empty wine goblets. Shoes strewn around the living room. The upturned furniture. A once meticulously bundled large sum of money flung around the room. He'd determined the motive, the most likely suspect and the potential weapon of choice - an antique iron was sitting on the dining table. A small Scottish Terrier lay under the table, statue still.

To the outside world the crime was shocking. They were a typical family with mum, dad and three children. The eldest in his second year of university studying commerce with a steady girlfriend, the youngest in her final years of high school and the middle child, a recent high school dropout being paid minimum wage at a local coffee shop. Mum worked part time at a local dress shop as a seamstress, spending her days off tending to the family home and sewing handmade clothes. Dad was a partner at a real estate agency. Dedicated to his job throughout the working week and a seemingly committed family man. They appeared the perfect family.

No one on the outside could have suspected a thing. Cases like this no longer surprised the detective. He'd become desensitized over the years spent in his job but his level of expertise meant he could solve a case in record time.

To the untrained eye the gruesome scene looked like a possible break and enter gone terribly wrong. Years of experience told the detective otherwise. It was a family get together turned ugly. Innocent looks across the dinner table turned into teasing glances and kittenish banter between the father and his son's girlfriend. The wife blissfully unaware as she sat with her needle and thimble. The middle child suspecting all along the father's charlatan ways and confronting him in secret earlier that day at the train station. The father ultimately exposed for his duplicity when passing hush money to her under the table. Twenty thousand dollars to be exact. A lot of money for a 17 year old waitress to comprehend. Such a large, unexpected amount of cash to part ways with, considering his position. She could only imagine what she could do with that kind of money. Investments, real estate, overseas holidays...

She'd held it briefly in her hands and thought the handover had gone unnoticed.

It hadn't. Her younger, highly observant sister saw it and started asking questions. First in whispers, so her mother could not hear and then loudly and accusingly; demanding to know why her father would cheat and how her much admired older sister would cover for him, helping him cheat. Ever the peacemaker during rare family squabbles, the dutiful wife had snapped the moment she'd realised her husband's philandering ways. A side of her came out that day in a fit of violent and brutal rage that no one knew existed. A family torn apart so viciously in a split moment over something that didn't need to happen if it weren't for the actions of a phony, unscrupulous husband and the reciprocal behaviour of a common hussy.

Who could have imagined such carnage could have resulted from a family gathering? A traditional family gathering.

The detective surmised.

The game of Monopoly definitely wasn't what it used to be...