“MURDER ON THE BRISTOL EXPRESS”
A Crime / Mystery Story

"Didn't anyone tell you that little girls shouldn't break into other people's homes?” The Lieutenant pulling up a chair in front of Carolyn Myers.

“Ya, so what? The front door was already open. And I'm not a little girl, I'm fourteen...so who the hell are you?”

"I'm the Lieutenant from Police Headquarters," opening a file. "Lets see what we got here," thumbing through the records: "One arrest for shoplifting, suspended from school six times, low grade reports; sounds like you're just a real princess."

"Screw you. You're just like all the rest of the cops.”

“Ya, I suppose. So where's your brother?" Striking a match lighting his cigarette.

"Probably upstairs. He found a bunch of money under some floorboards in one of the old bedrooms."

"And what did your brother do with the money?"

“He stuffed it in some bags.”

The Lieutenant leaned back in his chair staring at Carolyn. “Planning on buying a lot of stuff with all that money?”

“Sure, why not. Finder's keeper's ya know.”

The Lieutenant glances over towards the Sergeant by the door. "Bring the kid in here will ya Myers?"

"Sure thing Lieutenant," disappearing into the family room.

"Are we about done here? I gotta pee,” Carolyn squirming in her chair.

“Hold it...unless you want a bucket.”

“Smart ass cop...that's all I need.”

"Here's the boy Lieutenant," interrupting.

"Have a seat by your sister kiddo," turning a page over in his file, then looking at Tommy. "You must be about twelve."

"Thirteen next week," moving around on the sofa. "Do I have to sit next to her?"

The Lieutenant looked up and just stared at Tommy. “So where were you during all of this mess?”

“Counting the money upstairs...thought maybe we could borrow some of it..."

"I heard those kids!" A woman in her mid 30's screaming at the front door. "Let me in," struggling with officer Clinton holding her back.

The Lieutenant looks over. "Let her in Sargeant, it's alright."

"I knew it!" Approaching Carolyn and Tommy. "I heard all those lies you kids were tellin'. How'd you two get into my house anyway?” Fuming with piercing eyes.

"Excuse me ma'am," the Lieutenant cutting in. "Are these your kids?"

"Hell no, just a couple of street kids as far as I know."

"And you are..?"

"Margaret Dawson. I own this house. So where's my sister?" Walking towards the kitchen. "Julia? Are you in here?" Throwing open the kitchen door. "Julia!...damn that sister of mine. Where is she?"

"Bring her over here Sargeant."

"Yes sir," grabbing Mrs. Dawson."

"Get your hands off me you pig!"

"Cuff her Myers."

"No problem Lieutenant," latching handcuffs on her.

"Now sit down and shut up," the Lieutenant standing over her.

"Damn cops, you're all alike," mumbling.

The Lieutenant walks over to the fireplace mantle, reaches for a cigarette, flips his lighter, then picks up one of the framed photographs on the mantle, turning it over.
"Interesting. It says Julia Dawson. Your sister?" Showing Margaret Dawson the photo.

"Of course it's my sister. I just saw her today."

"Today? Are you sure Mrs. Dawson?"

"Of course I'm sure. We had breakfast together this morning."

"Well, I think it's about time we cleared up a few things," nodding at Sargeant Myers. Entering the room from the hallway was a woman in street clothes with a badge on her coat.

"I'd like you all to meet Detective Sorenson. She's been looking into a few things for me,” handing him two files.
"Let's see if we can clean up this mess," reading over the two files. "Apparently you own two homes," looking up at Mrs. Dawson. "This one here in Mansion Heights, and another smaller house closer to downtown. Quite an upscale neighborhood here in Mansion Heights, wouldn't you say Mrs. Dawson?”

“My husband inherited it from his father. So what?”

“Just being nosey,” pulling up a chair in front of her opening several documents from the file.

"Ever hear of a Joe Brady Mrs. Dawson?” staring at her.

“Never heard of the guy.”

“Sure you have. I got the report right here. Interested? Didn't think so. Says here that Mr. Joe Brady was taken into custody yesterday. He confessed that you paid him 10 thousand dollars to loosen up the bolts on the Bristol Express train tracks so it would collapse just at the right time - crossing over the Highland River bridge. Then, according to your husband's Will, you would stand to inherit his entire estate, including two homes, and one million dollars in insurance money,” moving out of his chair pacing in front of Mrs. Dawson.

"But then there was the problem of your sister Julia. You couldn't just let her run around with your husband. After all, they had been having an affair for some time and you couldn't risk a divorce, or you'd lose all those millions of your husband's estate.”

“I don't know what you’re talkin’ about,” staring at the Lieutenant.

“So you paid her to go along with your husband on his business trip aboard the Bristol Express. It was a perfect way to get rid of both of them on the same train - which, by the way, did crash, killing both your husband and your sister Julia. What do you say Mrs. Dawson? Sound about right?"

"It's all a big lie. You can't prove anything. Go to hell."

"Then why were you so desperate to hide in the kitchen pantry before we even arrived here at the house? Let me see if I can help you out on that one. We used one of our street informants to deliver a note to your home near the downtown area early this morning. He knocked, then slid the note under your door. The note mentioned two children that had found several bags of money in the floorboards of a third bedroom upstairs. After you read the note, you assumed these two kids were gonna steal the money you hid upstairs...the same money you had stolen from your husband's vault at his office the day before he died - or rather the day before you had him killed.”

"Just more lies. And why would I put money in the floor of a room?”

The Lieutenant moved in closer to Mrs. Dawson leaning over her chair. “I did my homework Dawson. It was your grandfather who used to hide money beneath the floorboards, right?”

“So what if he did?”

“Like Grandfather, like Granddaughter, and by the way, your prints are all over the bags and the money, including the money you tried to hide in the floorboards in the bedroom.”

“It's a bunch of lies.” Staring at Carolyn and Tommy. "You otta lock those two kids up over there...little piss ants."

"Since we're on the topic, we pretty much knew you'd be here listening to everything the kids had to say. You might even call it bait; and you took it all, hook and sinker. And we both know the kids had nothing to do with stealing any money, so don't even try to go there," walking back to the fireplace lighting another cigarette.

“The kids are mine, Mrs. Dawson. We had a great time rehearsing their parts for today. Pretty convincing, wouldn't you say?" winking over at Carolyn and Tommy. "And you heard it all from the pantry. No wonder you left the back entrance after hearing their conversation with me. And there you were, screaming at the front door begging to come in. You probably would have killed them too," pausing, then catching Detective Sorenson's attention.

"Book her on two counts of first degree murder, extortion, theft, and...well, I'll let you finish up. That otta keep her behind bars for about a century."

"Yes sir," as two officers accompanied Mrs. Dawson out the front door.

"Nice work dad," Carolyn standing up. "Can we do that again sometime?"

"Ya dad, that was pretty cool," Tommy joining in.

"No, I think once was enough Carolyn. You're just too good at being a smart ass," chuckling.

"Well ya know dad, I learned it all from you.”

"Don't tell your mom. She'll ground me for life," putting his arms around both of them. "How about some ice cream?"

"I'd rather have a train set," Tommy smiling.

"Why a train set," the Lieutenant looking puzzled.

"Probably wants to build a bridge and blow the train off the bridge like the case you just solved," Carolyn laughing.

"Okay, ice cream canceled!”

"Hey, I was just kidding dad."

"Ya, I know. So let's get out of here and get that ice cream," both Tommy and Carolyn running toward the car.

▪ Story by Abbie Stewart
▪ © 2018 ABBIE STEWART ALL RIGHTS RESERVED ON WRITTEN MATERIAL
▪︎ Photo: Train crossing over the Glenfinnan Viaduct, Scotland.
▪︎ Photo by Abbie Stewart.