'Tranquil Beauty'
The Case:
The light of the July moon glowed a silver shade. It pierced through the darkness that engulfed the streets of Venice and illuminated them with the effect a single burning candle would have in a small, confined room.
I leaned over my balcony, and peered into the canal below. A gleaming white sphere shivered upon the black, leather surface of the water, reflecting the clear image of the Italian moon that draped, each night, among the sporadic stars in the Italian sky. I drew a deep breath from a cigarette that hung limp between my lips, feeling the intoxicating fumes dissolve the heaviness that grew from my lungs like a tumour.
The night was so placid and I was so perturbed in mind to enjoy its tranquil beauty. The murder of an Italian nobleman occurred the previous month and was evidenced to be the work of the Mafia. The nobleman was a member of this notorious and elusive organisation and had prepared to escape the country with the hoard of money he had earned from a crime without apportioning it with his accomplices. So, undoubtedly, the disloyalty saw nemesis in his death.
It is difficult to conceive because they are portrayed by society as being purely sinister or malevolent, but the Mafia does not kill people for no reason; they do have principles, although they may not be moral; and that is why my mind was perturbed by the murder case I was presented with today. A middle-aged businessman was found dead in his home, brought to the end of his life by the Mafia's method of settling their victims: one shot in the head- simple. They also cut off a handful of hair and placed a white rose on his chest. However, the man's profile showed that he had no relation to the Mafia at all and for this reason, I was near certain to believe that the Mafia had not committed this second murder.
My cigarette had nearly burned out after I awoke from my deep contemplation and so I savoured the potent fumes, letting it deluge my senses and mind before smouldering it with my foot and kicking it into the canal. I turned around to face my apartment: a dark, seemingly neglected and deserted room with newspaper cuttings pinned up upon the walls, covering the disintegrating wallpaper. I liked to submerge myself entirely into the cases I was working on, mentally, and a side effect of this was being submerged physically in paper, files and clothes strewn all over the floor and occasionally, ash and cigarette ends that over-flowed from the ashtray.
Before I stepped into my den, I took a breath of the night breeze. It possessed a much different aroma to cigarettes. A sort of fresh, purified air tinged with the spice of coldness. Would it aid in purging my mind of the barrier to thinking more clearly? Since my cigarettes were not working as usual, I gave it a try and then entered my apartment. Sleep- would that escort me to another realm of thoughts to solve the crime.a sudden spark in my dreams? I didn't know about that but I knew my body would benefit from a little rest.
The light of the July moon glowed a silver shade. It pierced through the darkness that engulfed the streets of Venice and illuminated them with the effect a single burning candle would have in a small, confined room.
I leaned over my balcony, and peered into the canal below. A gleaming white sphere shivered upon the black, leather surface of the water, reflecting the clear image of the Italian moon that draped, each night, among the sporadic stars in the Italian sky. I drew a deep breath from a cigarette that hung limp between my lips, feeling the intoxicating fumes dissolve the heaviness that grew from my lungs like a tumour.
The night was so placid and I was so perturbed in mind to enjoy its tranquil beauty. The murder of an Italian nobleman occurred the previous month and was evidenced to be the work of the Mafia. The nobleman was a member of this notorious and elusive organisation and had prepared to escape the country with the hoard of money he had earned from a crime without apportioning it with his accomplices. So, undoubtedly, the disloyalty saw nemesis in his death.
It is difficult to conceive because they are portrayed by society as being purely sinister or malevolent, but the Mafia does not kill people for no reason; they do have principles, although they may not be moral; and that is why my mind was perturbed by the murder case I was presented with today. A middle-aged businessman was found dead in his home, brought to the end of his life by the Mafia's method of settling their victims: one shot in the head- simple. They also cut off a handful of hair and placed a white rose on his chest. However, the man's profile showed that he had no relation to the Mafia at all and for this reason, I was near certain to believe that the Mafia had not committed this second murder.
My cigarette had nearly burned out after I awoke from my deep contemplation and so I savoured the potent fumes, letting it deluge my senses and mind before smouldering it with my foot and kicking it into the canal. I turned around to face my apartment: a dark, seemingly neglected and deserted room with newspaper cuttings pinned up upon the walls, covering the disintegrating wallpaper. I liked to submerge myself entirely into the cases I was working on, mentally, and a side effect of this was being submerged physically in paper, files and clothes strewn all over the floor and occasionally, ash and cigarette ends that over-flowed from the ashtray.
Before I stepped into my den, I took a breath of the night breeze. It possessed a much different aroma to cigarettes. A sort of fresh, purified air tinged with the spice of coldness. Would it aid in purging my mind of the barrier to thinking more clearly? Since my cigarettes were not working as usual, I gave it a try and then entered my apartment. Sleep- would that escort me to another realm of thoughts to solve the crime.a sudden spark in my dreams? I didn't know about that but I knew my body would benefit from a little rest.