If You Go Down In The Woods Today

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Mystery and Crime  |  House: Booksie Classic
Hey, This is written for a story competition by Km2 (Check his work out) under the genre of Mystery, (don't be fooled by the name of the piece) I did write this with a cold but it has all been edited and hopefully people like it - Rose Burg xx

Submitted: June 25, 2013

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Submitted: June 25, 2013

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If You Go Out In The Woods Today

“Did you hear?” The pompous woman asked the tailored man.
“Hear what, Madam?” He replied, enthusiastically.
“James Tinker was apparently murdered.” They began to walk down the side walk. “Who would have thought, I mean him, of all people. I know the family – lovely people.”
“Why no, I hadn’t. Yes, they were lovely people, I’ll have to write. I went to school with his father, Phillip.”
“They must simply be distraught.” The woman exclaimed. A small paper boy walked up to them.
The Daily Times: SIR JAMES TINKER MURDERED. Read all about it. SIR JAMES TINKER MURDERED.” The tailored man flicked the boy a penny and picked up a paper.
“Oh dear, he was murdered just last night.” He pronounced.
“My, does it say exactly where he was murdered?” She asked.
“No, it just says he was murdered last night.”
“Well, good day then.”
“Good day, madam.” They departed ways.

Detective Wilkins sat in his office; he was reading over one of the reports a junior had written up for him. “What is this shit?” He moaned – he was going to have to rewrite it; probably going to have to hold another seminar on how to write a proper report. The steaming brew of coffee sitting on his filing cabinet wasn’t going to last him. One of the sergeants opened up his office door and poked his head in.
“Sir, we have another one.” The sergeant said sheepishly. Five murders in one week – what holy hell is this?
“Just leave me the details and I’ll meet you there.” The sergeant started to walk away. Wilkins clicked his fingers at him. “And send in the idiot that wrote this report.” The sergeant nodded and walked out, closing the door behind him. Wilkins put his head in his hands. “God,” He moaned.

Marnie was leaning over the man. He looked peaceful; quiet. Marnie looked at the blood oozing out of the man’s shirt where he was shot. “Ooh, red cordial.” Marnie dragged her finger over his chest and licked the blood off her finger. She spat it out. “Eek, too strong! Too strong!” She exclaimed. Blood started to drip out of the man’s mouth. She giggled and stood up. The blood had stained her white nightie. “Bye, sir.” She said to him. The man didn’t move. “How rude,” She said. Marnie ran off into the trees; she fluttered her arms like a butterfly. “We have to get home, Peter. The doctors need to give me my tablets.” She said to herself; fluttering off down the road towards the asylum.

Mrs Clarice Tinker was in hysterics when the man walked in; Mr Philip Tinker stood above her; comforting her with a soft pat on the shoulder. Their marriage was arranged by their parents; she was new money – and from America; while he was old money and his family had lived in this house for centuries. The hired private eye sat in front of them – he wore worn out clothes and smoked and old looking pipe. With one leg on the arm rest and the rest of his body draped across the elegant chair, Mrs Tinker silently questioned her husband’s choice of private eye. “Name’s Fredrick.” The private eye stated in a cockney accent and extended his arm out at Mr Tinker. “Please’ to meet you” He said. Mr Tinker gravely shook the dirty hand.
“You have to help us; we need you to find out the killer of our boy, James.” Mr Tinker said, handing the private eye a photo album.
“That is his album.” Mrs Tinker wept. Fredrick quickly flicked through the photos and pulled out a profile photograph of James Tinker.
“This’ll do. I’ll get to work. Payment will be expected when I return.” His accent had gone. Private eye Fredrick stood and grabbed his worn briefcase, walking out of the sitting room towards the foyer.
“Oh, my baby,” Mrs Clarice Tinker sobbed on the arm rest of the lounge she was perched on. “My poor baby.”

Inspector Wilkins was back at his desk; the crime scene had offered nothing promising. He read over the profile he had quickly typed up.
Victim: TINKER , James
Age: 25  ,  Twenty – five
Time of Death: Between 9 at night and 5 in the morning
Time of Discovery: 10AM the following morning
Place of Death: Near Woods
Witness/s: NIL
Inspecting Officer: Detective WILKINS
No. Years of Service: 10 years
Financial Status of Victim: Wealthy

He wrote up a page report; detailing what he had seen. He filed it with the other five murder reports from this week. They were all killed near the woods; but each were from different walks of life. “Looks like a serial killer to me.” Wilkins mumbled under his breath. One of the junior’s opened up Wilkins door.
“Sir?” The junior asked. Wilkins looked up at him.
“Yes?” He sighed.
“Sir, we have a suspected murderer for those five deaths there.” The junior pronounced. Wilkins fluttered his eyebrows. “James Tinker’s wife – she’s in the nut house. She’s been escaping the asylum on the nights of the murders. Last night when she came back to the asylum; she was wearing a blood soaked night gown.” Wilkins stood up from behind his desk and put on his coat.
“Thanks,” Wilkins said to the junior. The junior beamed.

“Marnie? You have a visitor.” The doctor opened the door. Marnie was sitting up on her bed and pretending to catch butterflies that were fluttering around her head. The man walked into the room and sat on her small desk.
“Hello, Marnie.” Private eye Fredrick said.
“Hello Freddy,” She replied.
“Marnie how would you like it if I got your sister to visit?” Fredrick tested.
“Caroline is coming to visit?” Marnie said excitedly.
“Only if you help me.”
“Ok, Freddy, I’ll help.” She said, nodding her head vigorously.
“Did you hear that your husband has been murdered?” Fredrick said immediately and waited for a reaction.
“Yes, we had red cordial together before I left. It seemed like he had spilt it all over himself, Freddy, he was always clumsy, just like Caroline. You two were best friends in school; I remember seeing you in the afternoons at our house.” Fredrick smiled at her.
“Red cordial?” The private eye asked the mentally deranged girl.
“Yes, he had made it too thick though, and too strong for my liking. I don’t think he liked it either, the cordial was dribbling out of his mouth.” Fredrick listened intently.
“Did you kill you husband, James?”
“Yes, because he wouldn’t listen. Nobody ever listens to me.” Marnie wrapped her arms around her legs and started to rock and look off into the corner of the room. Her hair had frazzled to the point of no return; sticks and leaves had made a home in it – settling in the rat nest. “James never used to listen to me; he would say that I was sick – but I did not have the flu. And then they sent me here to get better.”
“Marnie, how did you kill them?” Private eye Fredrick asked her.
“I have to show you.” She replied.

Detective Wilkins saw them walk out of the asylum. “Hey, where are you taking her?” He called out to the nurse and the man.
“Name’s Fredrick, I’m a private eye – hired by the Tinker’s.” Private eye Fredrick called back. Wilkins stepped out of the vehicle and walked towards him, pulling Fredrick aside from Marnie.
“What kind of shit are you trying to pull, ‘private eye Fredrick’?” Wilkins interrogated. Fredrick smiled back calmly.
“None, I was hired and came here. I’ve know her since we were in school – I dated her sister Caroline. Look, she’s always been a bit off, but she just confessed to me that she killed him because he wouldn’t listen. She is taking us to where she hid the weapon.”
“Where she hid the gun.” Wilkins corrected.
“Yeah, you coming?” Fredrick asked.
“Hey doctor, could you please escort this patient? I’m with the police” Wilkins called out at a doctor smoking by the entrance to the asylum. “I’m going with you, but I’m taking him with us.” The doctor walked over and held onto Marnie’s arm; she didn’t seem to mind.

Marnie guided them down to The Thames and stopped at the edge of the water. “Good thing it’s low tide” Wilkins mumbled under his breath. Marnie walked five steps into the water, so that she was in line with the building behind her and felt around the water with her fingers. The private eye stood by; watching Marnie wade around the water to make sure that she didn’t do anything foolish. Marnie ripped her hand out of the water. The Detective moved forward towards her cautiously. “Did you find something Marnie?” Wilkins called out to her. Fredrick moved towards her and held out his hand. Marnie placed a silver barrelled gun in the private eye’s grasp.
“Thanks Marnie, you ‘ave really ‘elped me out with that one.” Fredrick said in his true cockney accent. “Been wan’ing to kill off this bugger since I met ‘im.” Fredrick pointed the gun at Marnie’s head. “You ‘ave always been ge’in in the way of my shit. Always stickin’ you head where it don’t belong. You almos’ got me las’ time. But I got away with it.” Fredrick looked back up at Wilkins. “You don’t even know who I am. I can tell you tha’ I killed those five people because they stuck their nose in where it don’t belong. Say goodbye to Marnie, Detective Wilkins.”
“Wait, Fredrick. We’ll make a deal. Just don’t shoot her.” Fredrick looked up at Wilkins and moved the gun away from Marnie’s head slightly. “Ah, I’ll drop any charges against you.” Wilkins pleaded.
“Come on, Detective. You can do-” The doctor had snuck around the back of Fredrick and tackled him to the ground; grinding his face into the pebbles that created the floor of the river. Marnie escaped and fluttered off into the water while no one was holding her. She began to swim in the icy water.

“Guilty on charges of: five counts of murder and one count of attempted murder.” The judge announced, banging his gavel on the table. “You have been sentenced to life in imprisonment as a convict and future considerations for you being taken to New Holland where you will still serve under the Holy British Empire. Court is adjourned.” Full name Fredrick Harrison Anderson was directed out of the court room to be taken to his cell.

“Turns out Anderson convinced her to confess to the murders so that we stopped investigating. Marnie had no idea of what was going on; Anderson didn’t want to be caught by me because of some earlier murders I had persecuted him with, so he blamed the murders on her. I hadn’t seen him in seven years – but I am truly sorry that I didn’t recognise him. He was also Marnie’s friend from school, so she trusted him and believed him. He had even trained her to remember where the gun was hidden in the river. As to the location, Anderson’s mother was kicked out of a nunnery because she slept with the minister and the nun’s told each other because his mother got pregnant with Anderson. Anderson believed that it was the nuns fault that she was kicked out because they apparently stuck their noses into everything. He killed them near the woods because that is where his mother was forced to raise him. So, he continued to kill anyone who had stuck their nose in his business. Your son had never met Anderson, but Anderson knew that James had put Marnie in the insane asylum because she was sick. I’m sorry for your loss.” Wilkins smiled slightly then stood and walked out. Mr Phillip Tinker stood and watched him go while Mrs Clarice Tinker wept on the arm rest of the elegant lounge.

Marnie sat on a rock in the woods. She began to sing to herself.

If you go down in the woods today you’re sure of a big surprise
If you go down in the woods today you’d better go in disguise
For every bear that ever there was will gather there for certain
Because today’s the day the Teddy Bears have their picnic.”

Marnie giggled to herself. “I like that song, don’t you Peter?” A figure appeared from the bushes. Detective Wilkins stepped out.
“Yes, my dear, I do like that song.”

 

**Author’s note: This was written for a competition where the theme was Mystery.**

 


© Copyright 2017 Rose Burg. All rights reserved.

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