Footsteps | Teen Ink

Footsteps

May 16, 2023
By Anonymous

     It  was  a  Friday  night,  December.  It  was  blasting  outside,  nearly  30  inches  of  snow  had  already  accumulated.  Everyone  from  the  town  country  club  was  gathered  in  the  mayor's  mansion  for  a  dinner  party  he  and  his  wife  were  throwing.  I  was  the  chosen  journalist  sent  there  to  cover  the  occasion.  There  were  fancy  butlers  towing  around  trays  of  cocktails  and  martinis,  the  housekeepers  with   hors d'oeuvres.  The  fireplace  was  crackling,  but  it  was  still  frigid  in  there  due  to  a  broken  window.  Kind  of  tacky  for  such  a  lavish  mansion.
     Everyone  was  socializing  in  the  commons  area,  waiting  for  the  mayor  to  arrive.  I  was  keeping  to  myself,  sitting  on  a  burgundy-colored  leather  armchair,  sipping  on  a  small  water  bottle  I  got  from  a  bucket  full  of  ice,  looking  at  all  of  the  hunting  prizes  he  had  hung  on  his  wall.
     I  could  hear  subtle  bumps  coming  from  the  room  above  us,  but  I  never  thought  anything  of  it  as  no  one  else  seemed  to  notice.
     It  started  to  get  louder,  however.  Muffling  could  now  be  heard.  I  could  see  some  of  the  other  citizens  start  to  perk  up.
     SLAM
     Everyone  flinched  at  the  impact  of  a  100-pound  door.
     Footsteps  were  heard  sauntering  down  the  stairs,  everyone  was  quite  still.  The  doorknob  of  the  double  doors  began  to  jiggle,  and  they  slowly  begin  to  open.  I  stared  intently.
     "Welcome,  folks.  I  hope  you  all  haven't  been  too  bored."
     The  mayor  enters  the  room  and  everyone  simultaneously  begins  clapping.  He  had  mutton chops  and  a  pocket  watch  hanging  out  of  his  coat  like  it  was  still  1870.
     I  take  out  my  pad  and  pen  and  prepare  to  start  taking  notes  for  the  journal.  Mayor  Devereux  was  walking  around  the  room  shaking  hands  with  all  of  the  guests.  I  noticed  a  small  red  stain  on  his  dress shirt.
     I  stood  up  and  began  slowly  making  my  way  toward  the  area  of  the  room  he  was  in.  I  had  just  noticed  his  wife  was  no  where  to  be  seen.  I  started  jotting  down  my  concerns.  This  was  most  likely  all  coincidental,  but  could  I  be  too  sure?
     I  finally  got  over  to  the  mayor.
     "Hello,  Mayor  Devereux.  Do  you  have  any  comments  for  the  town  journal  before  the  evening  begins?"
     I  was  merely  ignored.

     "Sorry  for  the  wait,  but  if  everyone  could  follow  me  to  the  dining  area,  then  we  can  begin  the  dinner  meal!"
     The  dining  room  was  only  a  few  rooms  down.  The  mayor  was  first  out,  and  we  all  followed.
     It  was  a  grand  room,  could  sit  about  70  people.  I  sat  in  a  corner,  and  a  few  other  people  occupied  the  same  table.  The  smell  of  gourmet  cooking  filled  the  air,  My  standards  were  set  to  having  gold  flakes  in  the  food.
     The  mayor's  wife  still hasn't  shown,  and  I  took  note  of  that.  I  tried  talking  about  it  to  the  other  people  at  my  station,  but  they  put  their  nose  up  to  me.
     After  about  30  minutes,  dinner  was  served.  No  gold  flakes,  but  they  had  oysters.
     Mayor  Devereux  was  coming  over  to  us,  and  I  started  thinking  about  the  questions  I'd  ask.
     "How's  dinner everyone?"
     Before  the  other  three  could  get  a  word  in  edgeways,  I  began  speaking.
     "Where's  your  wife,  Mayor?"
     "That's  Devereux  to  you,  and  she's  a  bit  ill  with  the  flu,  I'm  afraid."
     The  others  expressed  concern,  but  I  asked  where  the  bathroom  was.
     "Upstairs,  take  a  left,  second  door.  It's  labeled  with  bathroom."
     I  got  up,  I  didn't  have  to  use  the  bathroom  though.
     The  stairs  had  a  purple  and  white  carpet  draped  over  them.  Seems  like  a  slipping  hazard  to  me.  When  I  got  to  the  top,  I  spotted  the  gold-plated  bathroom  sign,  but  I  also  saw  the  drawing  room.  I  decided  to  peek  inside.
     I  couldn't  believe  my  eyes.  A  knife  wound  had  killed  Mrs.  Devereux.
     I  ran  downstairs  to  the  telephone  and  dialed  the  town  detective.  Luckily,  he  had  been  invited  to  the  party,  and  was  seated  in  the  other  room.  I  led  him  to  the  mayor's  wife  and  soon  the  once  elegant  party  became  complete  chaos.
     Everyone  was  scrambling.  People  were  trying  to  leave,  but  the  snow  outside  had  barricaded  the  door.
     The  detective  began  questioning  everyone,  beginning  with  Mayor  Devereux.  He  looked  sweaty,  in  shock.  When  detective  Grey  asked  about  the  red  stain  on  his  shirt,  he  simply  said  it  was  red  wine.  He  calmly  said  he  hadn't  realized  he  spilled  some  on  himself  when  he  was  trying  to  lift  his  poor,  old  wife  from  her  wheelchair  into  her  bed.  Me  and  detective  Grey  both  started  writing.  The  mayor  wasn't  ruled  out  just  yet,  but  there  was  another  suspect.  There  was  one  person  at  this  party  no  one  had  ever  seen.  Dressed  as  a  butler,  that's  what  everyone  assumed  he  was.  Mayor  Devereux  said  he'd  never  seen  him  either.  Detective  Grey  walked  up  to  him  as  slowly  as  he  could.
     "Who  are  you?"
     "A  butler,  detective."
     "Nobody  here  has  ever  seen  you.  Did  you  know  Mrs.  Devereux?"
     "Yes,  she  was  my  first  wife."
    Everyone  was  silently  confused.
    "LIAR!"  Mayor  Devereux  shouted,  his  emotions  began  to  rise  and  tears  fell  down  his  face.
    "Why  would  I  lie?  She  told  me  the  day  we  were  divorced  that  I  was  irreplaceable...  and  that  I  would  get  all  of  her  money  the  day  she  dies."
    "Are  you  confessing  to  her  murder?"
     The  mystery  butler  and  detective  stared  at  each  other  for  a  few  seconds.  I  could  see  Grey  was  trying  to  piece  it  all  together.
     "All  I  am  saying  is  whoever  it  was,  I  shall  get  her  riches."
     The  butler  reached  for  his  hip,  and  everyone  knew  what  would  happen  next  in  that  moment.
     The  police  in  the  room  yelled  at  everybody  to  get  down  and  they  tackled  the  butler.  Ambulances  and  seemingly  the  whole  police  department  showed  up.  News  vans  and  other  journalists  set  up  microphones  and  cameras,  only  trying  to  make  a  quick  buck  at  the  expense  of  Mrs.  Devereux.
     That  night  after  I  got  home,  I  took  the  pad  out  of  my  pocket.  I  decided  to  tear  up  the  notes  and  throw  them  away.
     The  butler  was  put  away.  He  was  deemed  insane,  proven  to  be  lying.  
     Mayor  stepped  down  from  his  position  and  left  town.  He  was  never  seen  around  those  parts  again.  
     As  for  me,  I  never  picked  up  a  notepad  again.


The author's comments:

This piece was a writing prompt for my creative writing class.


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