Blanche White yawned and raised a perfectly manicured hand to pat down her sleek black bob. The sixteen year old girl smiled at her reflection in the mirror, her plump ruby red lips stretching slowly over her white, straight teeth. She straightened her navy dress out and took a nervous glance in the mirror.
"You look lovely dear." A woman's soft voice purred behind her. Blanche jumped and turned in surprise. "Oh, it's just you." She gave an embarrassed laugh. Her visitor smiled and perched on the edge of the chair. "With looks like yours your just destined to be crowned Portland Princess." Blanche sighed. "The competition is stiff, I'm kind of nervous." The woman gave a tsking noise. "Blanche, Blanche, Blanche. Just look at you. Skin as white as snow, hair as black as ebony…" Her voice trailed off as she patted Blanche's hair with a cold hand. "You are gorgeous." She said, with almost contempt.
Blanche smiled softly. "Thank you, you really are too kind." The woman gave a tight lipped smile. "Well, I came by to give you a good luck treat." She pulled a crimson apple out of her purse. Blanche raised an eyebrow. "You brought me an apple? That's very thoughtful of you but I don't think I should eat before going on stage." The woman looked at her icily. "You're too skinny dear. One bite won't hurt you know." Blanche self-consciously touched her stomach. "No, I guess it wouldn't." She took the apple and tentatively took a bite. The woman smiled at the crunching sound. Blanche stood. "I must be going, it's almost my turn." The woman regarded her silently.
Blanche's delicate features contorted in pain as she grabbed her throat. "I-I don't feel…" She swayed to the side and grabbed the chair for support. She stumbled forward before falling to the ground, the apple rolling from her limp hand. "You're still so pretty." The woman spat at the fallen girl. She looked coolly in the mirror. There was no reflection. With a scream she picked a piece of makeup off the vanity and threw it in the mirror, shattering it into a million pieces. "Good luck… Blanche." She sneered as she swept silently from the dressing room.
"…With a poisoned apple. Can you believe that?" Police detective Hank Griffin laughed. His partner, Nick Burkhardt looked up in shock. "Did you say poisoned apple?" The African- American man nodded. "Sure did. It just got called in." Nick checked his watch. "At 7:30 in the evening?" Hank laughed. "Does crime ever stop because of the time?" Nick sighed and grabbed his leather jacket. "Fill me in."
The two men left the station and into the nippy Portland air. "Victim was identified as Blanche White; she was a sixteen year old contestant in the Portland Princess teen pageant. She was found dead on the floor of her dressing room." Nick gave a low whistle. "We have a dead beauty queen?" Hank shook his head. "I don't think so. We haven't determined a cause of death yet but there was an apple with a bite mark lying on the floor next to her." Nick looked out the window in disbelief. "A princess eats a poisoned apple and dies?" Hank looked at him sternly. "No. This is not a fairytale. A girl is dead and now she is never going to get a chance to do a lot of things."
The car stopped and the two men looked out into the evening air at the tall brick building. "Welcome to the Portland Performance Hall, home of the Portland Princess Pageant. When they arrived in the tall marble lobby, they found a throng of crying teenage girls. An Asian police officer, Sargent Wu, walked over to the officers. "The pageant was canceled after Blanche was found. All of the girls must be pretty impressive actresses, because they all seem pretty devastated that their competition was killed." Nick nodded. "Take us to Blanche." The police officers began to push through the girls. "She's in her dressing room." Wu explained. He led them to a door. "She, well, she's not too good looking anymore."
Nick steeled his gut and pushed the door open. An overwhelming smell of perfume and flesh hit him dead in the face. "How long has she been dead?" He gagged. "The pageant director came by Blanche's room at 6:30 to make sure she was ready for her 7 o'clock appearance but she never made it to the stage. At 7:15 a pageant attendant found her in here. We didn't call the precinct until 7:30." Nick nodded, taking it all in. "So, our victim was killed between 6:30 and 7:15."Nick concluded. From his spot at the door all that was seen of the girl was the bottom of a navy blue dress and a black stiletto heel. "Why does she smell so foul?" Hank asked. "I mean, she's been dead for what, an hour and a half?" Wu pursed his lips. "Maybe you should just check her out."
Nick and Hank walked over the leg and around the chair. Blanche was laying sprawled on her side, but the visible half of her face was more than enough. Hank bit his lip. Her skin, which had once been fair, was bloody and crisp, as if she had been burned. Her eyes were gooey blobs and her lips and teeth were nonexistent. "Poor kid." Hank muttered. Nick crouched down. "Wu, she was burned. Why is there no burn marks around the room?" Wu shrugged. "But she was killed in this room, right? I mean, was there any chance she could have been killed elsewhere and moved into here?" "No." A woman's voice whispered. "There are people everywhere. If Blanche was killed anywhere but here, people would have noticed." Nick stood up to get a better look at her.
She had perfect blonde hair and big green eyes that were clear though she spoke as if she had been crying. "I'm sorry mam, but this a crime scene. May I ask who you are?" Nick tried to block her view of Blanche. The woman looked startled. She pursed her plump pink lips and ran a honey colored hand over her tight black dress. "Helen White, I'm the pageant director." She covered her mouth with polished nails. "I was the last one to see Blanche alive when I came into her room pre show." Nick cocked his head. "Did you say your last name was White? Is there any chance that you're related to the victim, Blanche White?" The woman nodded sadly. "Yes, Blanche was my step daughter. I married the poor girl's father a few weeks before he died of a heart attack."
Hank nodded. "I'm so sorry that a woman as…. Beautiful as you has to suffer such tragedy." He consoled. Nick elbowed him in the rib. "Whoa Romeo." He whispered. Hank looked confused. "I loved Blanche, she was a kind girl." Helen said. "I don't know w-who w-would do something so t-terrible!" She wailed. Hank went over to console her and Nick took another second to examine the body. "Can we get a test on the apple?" He asked a medical examiner who was standing nearby. The man nodded and went to retrieve the apple.
Nick walked over to the vanity. A bottle of perfume was lying on the desk, scented liquid dripping onto the tiled floor slowly. "Could there have been a struggle?" He asked Wu. "The mirror is shattered and this perfume bottle was smashed." He picked a glass shard up with a blue gloved hand. Wu looked at the mirror. "Possibly; there's something wet on the mirror. Maybe the mirror was smashed with the perfume bottle?" Nick nodded thoughtfully. "Maybe, let's get Blanche to the morgue so we can find out exactly what happened to her."