Young Writers Society

Madame- Mrs.

Mademoiselle- Ms.

Monsieur- Mr.

Merci- thankyou

au revoir- good bye.

Oui- Yes (pronounced wi)

Happy reading everyone :)

Jacque Leffere sighed and looked at his pocket watch, 11:03 exactly. Bridge had never interested Jacque, or any sort of gambling for that matter. Jacque sat at a table of four with Cubilla, Lucinda, and Dr. Roberts while Alice, Kurtis, and Lyla sat at the couch in front of the fire talking quietly. Jacque turned his attention back to the table and looked as his hand. He didn’t quite understand the game but he knew well enough that each player gets 13 cards and the first person to play a card is called playing the lead. The person clockwise to whoever played the lead must play a card of the same suit if they have one, and if not they play something called a “trump” where they play a different suit. If they play a “trump” then the next person must the same suit of the “trump” unless they don’t have that suit in which case another “trump” is played and so on and so forth. The winner wins a “trick” if they have either the highest card of the same suit if all the cards were the same suit, or the highest card of the trump. There was some point system involved was far beyond Jacque.

Lucinda led by playing a seven of hearts. Next Cubilla smiled smugly playing an Ace of hearts, the highest heart you could play. Unless some one trumps Jacque was going to lose even more of his money, even though he was a light bidder it didn’t matter, he lost anyways. Jacque looked back down at his hand. Damn! He thought, he had one heart left, a six and that just wasn’t going to cut it. He sighed playing his six of hearts and Cubilla beamed as she reached forward to gather her money that lay in a pile at the middle of the table.

“Ah, ah, ah! I still haven’t played my card” Dr. Roberts smiled slyly as he lay down the last card in his hand. The ace of spades, he had trumped Cubilla’s trick and reached forward and dragged the money to his side. Lucinda leapt in joy as Cubilla sulked.

“Oh darling! Marvelous simply marvelous! Building up dear old Cubilla’s hopes” Lucinda exclaimed as she smiled smugly at Cubilla who was glared coldly back. “Better luck next time honey” she winked and pranced back to her chair.

“Oh pooh, well your right Lucinda. Better luck next time” Cubilla scowled and pulled out a handful of shillings and throwing them on the table and crossing her arms, giving Lucinda a frigid glare. Lucinda snorted and flipped her hair back dramatically, looking stubbornly over at Dr. Roberts who, reading his wife’s mind, took two more handfuls of shillings from his checkbook and placed on the table, paying in for himself and Lucinda. All three of them looked back at Jacque with high tension hanging in the air. Jacque got up from his chair.

“No merci, I think I’m going to take a short break” Jacque smiled respectfully and walked over to the couch where Lyla, Alice, and Kurtis were talking. Alice sat in a single large armchair while Lyla laid uncomfortably close to Kurtis who was talking about his most recent book he had published in America.

“Yes, you see the importance of writing a murder mystery comes not in the suspense and the intensity that you drive into the reader, but rather keeping your reader guessing. Lead them down one path and then completely change direction. Some people say that the true mysteries are the one’s where you already know the killer and the mystery is figuring out what happened. I disagree!” Jacque sat down at the couch next to Lyla who turned and smiled politely.

“Pardon Madame and mon…” Jacque stopped himself as Kurtis gave him a hard look, as he was about to say “monsieur”. Jacque corrected himself “Kurtis, but there is a spot open at the bridge table if either of you care to play. Madame Alice?”

“Oh heavens no! I can’t stand that game! Although I don’t understand why Marquez went to bed. He loves this game! Never misses it on Friday nights, and it goes until well after midnight,” Alice stood up from her armchair “I’m going to go check on him.”

“How strange that is Madame, au revoir,” Jacque said as Kurtis stood up.

“I’m going to go join the bridge game, please excuse me” he got up and kissed Lyla’s hand who blushed in return.

“Oh, be careful Kurtis” Jacque advised. Kurtis gave him a puzzled look and shrugged.

“I’m from New York, what’s the worst that could happen?” He tipped his head and sat down at the table. Lyla turned back to Jacque and smiled.

“Mr. Leferre, shall we find a more comfortable seating arrangement?” Lyla stood up from the couch and stuck the end of her cigarette holder into her red lips as she took a deep breath, puffing out a black smoke that hung balefully in the air.

“Ah but of course Madame” Jacque got up as well and followed Lyla who walked back out into the entrance where more furniture laid near the base of the stairs where Jacque first came in at the beginning of the party. He noticed Herbert standing suspiciously in a corner. Lyla sat down gracefully on the couch and Jacque sat across from her in an armchair.

“Some Champaign Mr. Leferre?”

“Oui, that would be most excellent” Lyla smiled enchantingly and snapped her fingers.

“Herbert get some Champaign for our guest please!” Lyla gave Jacque another smile as she took out her cigarette that was wedged in her cigarette holder and replaced it with a new one. “Mr. Leffere if you would please,” she held out her cigarette holder and let it sit in the air waiting to be lighted.

“Ah but of course Madame” Jacque took out his lighter from his pocket and lit the cigarette for Lyla as Herbert came out with a bottle of Champaign and two wine glasses pouring both of them and handing one to Lyla and Jacque.

“Why thank you. Now Herbert if you would be so kind as to check on the rest of our guest.” Herbert gave a quick bow and walked quickly away to check on everyone else. “So. The magnificent Jacque Leffere. What brings you to our humble home?”

“Magnificent Madame! Oh no no no I am just a detective. Why your husband invited me” Jacque gently picked up a glass and took a small sip.

“Did he now? Strange… he isn’t one to invite detectives into his house” Lyla also took a sip from her glass.

“Really and why’s that? Does he have something to hide?”

“We all have something to hide Mr. Leffere” Lyla flashed a perfect smile and took another sip of her glass. “And to tell the trust Mr. Leffere,” Lyla hesitated for a moment, clearly desperately needing to say something. “I convinced my husband to bring you here”. Jacque furrowed his brow and frowned.

“Really Madame, and why’s that” Jacque put his glass down and leaned forward intently listening to Lyla.

Lyla put down her glass. “Well Mr. Leffere, I am worried. I am sorry to bring you here like this but my husband won’t ever let me leave the house anymore. It’s like he has me trapped here and… I’m worried” rubbed her eyes with her fingers, clearly distraught.

“Worried? For you safety Madame Leroy,” Jacque got up from the armchair and sat down next to Lyla, putting a comforting arm around her.

“No. No no no no no, I am scared for my husbands life.” Lyla sniffled as a tear rolled down her cheek; Jacque offered his perfect white handkerchief. Lyla gladly took it and wiped her eyes.

“When did this all start Madame?”

“Right after the mob attack on the bank and the two people were shot and killed. He’s been getting mysterious calls and he has been yelling at the phone so much now. Every time I ask him what’s wrong and he only pushes me away”. More tears began to seep from Lyla’s eyes and now they begin to trickle down her face and onto her chin. She blew into the handkerchief. “That’s where he probably is right now, staring at the telephone. It’s just… Oh Mr. Leffere I’m so distressed.” She dropped the Handkerchief and hugged Jacque, crying into his soldier who patted her back trying to calm her.

“I will go talk to your husband”

“No, not now Mr. Leffere. He is in his room and he hates being disturbed.” Lyla let out a small sigh and rubbed her eyes. “Please, excuse me while I go to the bathroom and… well… compose myself I guess is the best word for it” She smiled still with tears in her eyes and then walked up stairs, her heels echoing loudly with each step. Jacque looked down at his pocket watch, 11:44. He sighed, Jacque really rather wanted to leave the house, despite how magnificent it was. The mansion was really rather… unnerving. Now what? He thought as he sat in silence, observing the rose carving on the railings of the staircase.

Cubilla Black suddenly burst through the doors to the Bridge room and started running towards the stairs holding her purse, smiling smugly. How Cubilla was running in 4” heels was far beyond Jacque. Lucinda suddenly came out of the doors furious, her fiery hair now edging out of her braid as wild loose ends stuck out.

“Come back here with my money you drunken bitch!” But Cubilla merely turned back and smiled slyly.

“You were right honey, better luck next time. Now excuse me while I powder my nose” She winked and ran up the stairs while Lucinda let out a screech of frustration and ran upstairs after her.

Rather suddenly Jacque jumped at a loud sneeze. He looked back down at his pocket watch. It read 11:46, how desperately he wanted to get out. He was rather looking forward to leaving at 12:00, but now it seems that it wasn’t going to happen given the new problem Lyla Leroy had presented him. And almost on impulse the skies released their tears on the world. Water poured from the sky battering the roof, threatening to cave in on itself. Thunder cackled from outside the large window that sat next to the door. Quite odd, he thought, how such a famous painter had been unnerved by a mere robbery by of a bank.

Lyla descending down the steps gracefully suddenly interrupted his thoughts, her heels clacking on the wooden steps. Only now did he really get a good enough look at the famous painters wife. She was wearing such a beautiful fiery red dress made with beads that looked more like rubies and diamonds, sparkling every time she moved. She had long luxurious black hair that reached down to the small of her back. She was about 5’ 7” and had darkly tanned skin, looked about in her early 30’s. She had now put on long white gloves that reached from her hands to her elbows and she released her enchanting smile again. Sitting back down on the couch after and looked outside.

“Absolutely ghastly weather we are having. I never liked such weather; the rain always seems to ruin the marigolds. Now those infernal roses are here. We can’t seem to get rid of them! They are everywhere. After Louis fired all the gardeners the just kept on growing and growing.” While she was talking Kurtis flung open the doors frantically and ran pass the couch desperately running upstairs.

“Kurtis is there something the matter?” Jacque inquired.

“It’s a bloody war in there! I’m going to bed” Kurtis said out of breath and then continued running up the stairs. Lyla just smiled. Jacque turned to Lyla with concern in his eyes.

“Now, about your husband…” but Jacque didn’t get to finish his sentence. There was suddenly a loud “BANG!” and the house was silently. But the silence was quickly broken by a scream that came from Alice’s lips. Jacque and Lyla leapt to their feet and started running upstairs, Jacque saw the Colonel at the top of the stars running into the door, he flung it open and ran inside and gasped. Kurtis was next inside the room and then Jacque entered with Lyla followed by Alice, Lucinda, and Cubilla. The room was beautiful, there was an exquisite picture from Louis’s collection called “eruption” by the bed and a large window at least 6’ by 3’. The floor was carpeted with white and the walls were also white, but not anymore… Because in the middle of the room lies a mangled body, sitting in a giant puddle of blood that stains the carpet with a bullet, impaled in his head. And a revolver, floating in a pool of blood that colored the carpet crimson and had already splattered all over the walls.

Lyla’s face twisted into a look of horror as she feel to her knees, hands shaking as a hollow wail fills the silence sitting in the rooms, her voice drenched in agony, bouncing off every hall of the now lonely mansion. A cold breeze drifts in, sending shivers down Jacques spine, from the open window from which bloodthirsty roses now peek their heads out of looking like they were grinning, almost satisfied.

Louis Leroy was dead.

P.S: Ok correct me if I'm wrong but I feel like Lylas sudden crying just is odd and off beat with everything. I'm not sure how to fix that bit. I read over this piece several times so I'm hoping I caught all the small grammar and spelling errors. Terribly sorry if I didn't, also for those who have been reading my earlier chapters, I switched Lyla's dress to a sparkling red dress because I think it was more effective. Thank you all for the reviews! Go to my works to find Chapter one and two if you're intrested.