Fan Mail Murder by Lauren Sisley

The woman had discovered Alton’s badge in his pocket moments before she knocked him out with a crystal pitcher. His legs and arms were bound when he came to in the back of her Range Rover. Each bump in the road was painful as his head banged into the top of the trunk. His death was imminent, but in his last moments Alton had confidence that his partner would be able to solve his murder. He had done all he could to finally catch the killer in the act. It would be up to Patel to see this through. The Range Rover came to a sudden stop. The sounds of cars on the highway were the last things Alton heard as the knife was driven into his back and midsection.

It was a cool morning when the body of Detective Alton Snow was found by a driver outside of Trenton, New Jersey. Blood had soaked through his clothes and stained the rocks below him. Detective Patel, armed in latex gloves, shifted Snow’s arms to reveal a message scrawled onto his right palm- I was right. Her suspicion had been confirmed. Patel took one look at the body and shouted at the police chief in the distance, “Please bring in Ms. Rae Windsor to the station for questioning.” The chief looked confused as he pulled out his phone.

“The author?” The chief questioned.

“Yes.” Patel would not rest until Ms. Windsor paid for what she had done. This morbid woman had been making a living on writing about murders by creating them first herself. Detective Snow was convinced of this and now he had become her latest victim. With great remorse Patel hopped back into her cruiser and made her way to the station in Manhattan determined to catch the killer.

When Rae entered the interrogation room everything about her was immaculate. Patel couldn’t shake how much she resembled the photos on the back of her best-seller jacket covers. Her shoulder-length hair was curled and although in her mid fifties there was little evidence of aging to her skin. She found a seat in a folding chair across a narrow wooden table from Patel.

Patel was armed with a yellow steno pad and a black fountain pen. Her skin was a dark shade of caramel and her hair was the purest black.

“Ms. Windsor, let’s begin with why you are here.”

“Yes, the ridiculous accusations.” Rae Windsor spoke sharply. “What would you like to know?”

“Ms. Windsor, let’s talk first about Mr. Snow. How did you know the victim?” Patel made eye contact with the large decorated officer seated near the door to the room. He nodded at her and began to sip at the coffee in a styrofoam cup in his large clumsy hands.

“About a month ago I started a pen pal relationship with Mr. Snow. It all began from a bit of fan mail. He was an admirer of my books .” Rae recalled.

“And what did the initial letter from Mr. Snow say?” Patel questioned.

“In his letter he praised my newest novel which he had placed in his collection in Nebraska. He also stated his affinity for the vivid details that I used in my books when I discussed crime scenes. He talked about someday meeting me, but no plans were ever made.” Rae answered.

“Okay, tell me a little bit more about last night. Were you with Mr. Snow?” Patel pushed. Rae looked at the blackened window across the room. Being a murder mystery author she was well-aware of the fact that on the other side of the glass stood a number of officers.

Within seconds of an incriminating testimony they would burst through the door beside the hefty officer in the corner and have her in custody reading her Miranda Rights. She began to tread lightly as she recounted yesterday’s events.

“He had come to visit me that day, yes. It was an unexpected visit. I was at home when there was a knock on my apartment door. I was sitting at my desk in the living room and extremely bothered by the guest who had arrived and interrupted me.

“I opened the door and found myself greeted by a short, balding man with spectacles half the size of his face holding a bright bouquet of flowers in his rough and calloused hands.

‘Ms. Windsor, My name is Alton Snow. How very nice to make your acquaintance.’ Mr. Snow put his hands out and after a few seconds of apprehension I decided to accept his commodity and placed my polished hand in his. We shook and for a moment then I decided to let him enter my apartment.

‘I have waited so long to meet you, Ms. Windsor. So many of your novels and short stories make me feel like I know you already.’ He said.

‘Is there something I can do for you, Mr. Snow?’ I asked, again wary of his unscheduled presence. He began to make small talk while combing through my apartment. His clothing pressing into my suede sofa caused my pulse to race. He made himself comfortable while I felt the opposite. As he took a seat on the sofa I caught a glimpse of something shiny in his pocket.

‘Would you like a drink?’ I asked my guest.

‘I would indeed. Would you excuse me?’ He laid the flowers on the coffee table in front of the couch and walked back to my guest bathroom to relieve himself, I suppose. Something within me began to sense that he had arrived in my apartment with ulterior motives.

“I made my way back to the kitchen to pour Mr. Snow a glass of water from a pitcher. He returned after only a moment. We talked about a manuscript I was working on and then he left.” Rae recounted.

“Ms. Windsor were you aware that Mr. Snow was an officer?” Patel looked up from her steno pad.

“Not until I was brought in. About twenty minutes ago” Rae admitted. The officer in the corner stopped drinking his coffee and sat up straight. Rae felt the eyes of more than just Patel and the officer on her.

“Mr. Snow was working undercover on a case he built himself. He was honest when he said that he was a fan. Mr. Snow was one of the most literary men on this task force. Recently, he had spoken about the cunning resemblance between some of your novels and several unsolved murders in the city. He was commissioned to visit your apartment that day to gather evidence.” Patel explained the motives of the now deceased officer.

Before Rae could respond to this new information there was a knock on the door. Patel stood up from the table and straightened her black blazer as she walked toward the door. A man on the other side of the door peeked his head in and whispered something to the detective. Patel tried not to show any emotion as she was informed of new evidence in the case, but Rae caught the raise of her right eyebrow. Rae’s palms began to sweat as she feared her ride to the top as an author was coming to an end. The door shut and Patel made her way back to the lean onto the table with both arms fully extended.

“Ms. Windsor, it appears that some new evidence in the case had just surfaced. You said that you were sitting at your desk when Officer Snow came to visit? On that desk were you working on a manuscript for a new novel?” Patel questioned knowing the correct answer.

“I was, yes.”

“Was anyone else aware of this manuscript?” Patel asked. Rae’s pulse was racing. She swallowed hard.

“Just myself. I was to have the first draft to my publisher by the end of the month.”

“Please explain to me the crime committed in this novel.” Patel questioned with a straight-lined smile replacing her stone-cold glare.

“A good author never reveals the plot of their story. You will have to read for yourself when the story is released.”

“Well, I don’t know if that will be necessary. One of my colleagues has combed through the manuscript and just informed me of its contents. What name have you chosen for this novel, Ms. Windsor?” Patel asked.

“I have not yet settled on a title.” Rae answered.

“Well, how about this one: The Fan Mail Murder. Ms. Windsor you are under arrest for the murder of Detective Alton Snow.” The heavy-set officer took his cue and lept from his seat in the corner to slap a pair of handcuffs on Rae’s wrists.

“You will never be able to convict me in a trial. I am a world-renown murder mystery novelist. I’ve studied the art of crime and you have nothing on me. I know how to perfect the art of cover-up just like my characters.” Rae shouted.
Patel smiled. There would be justice for her partner.