EXCERPTS

Chapter 1 - The Murder

Roger Mitchell lay motionless, face down on the carpet, eyes hollow and wooden, an expression of horror on his face. His hair combed back, parted to the side. Below the left ear, a one-inch gash. It is here where the blood had seeped out taking all life with it. Several metres away from the corpse lay the murder weapon; an Eskimo-carved statue of the Virgin Mary, blood dripping from its base.

"Hotel security, is anyone inside?" Ches pushed the door open, it was 4 a.m. and this was the third time he had been summoned to the 14th floor. There was a never-ending graduation party for the Pacific Film School; as usual the celebration had spilt into the guest rooms. But this complaint was and it came from the executive wing. Someone had called reception to report that the door of Room 1460 wasn't closed properly. What kind of report was that? Ches asked himself. The door was either open or closed; although sometimes an inebriated guest would forget to close it completely, and pass out before making it to bed.

"Hotel security, you left your door open…" He kept walking, repeating his title as he made his way into the living room. A former paratrooper, Ches, in his early sixties, kept his six-foot-four frame in excellent shape. He expected to find the television on and the hotel guest asleep on the couch; but the television was off and the lights dim. He scanned the room quickly; then checked upstairs to see if the bedroom doors were open. It was too dark to see properly.

He stopped for a second to listen for any sound that would give away the occupant's presence. Finding the switch on the wall, he turned up the lights. He noticed one of the chairs lying sideways on the floor. Instinctively he walked over to pick up the chair, thinking it was far enough away from the table that someone must have kicked it. Ches was about to place it right side up when he noticed, a few feet away, a stain on the carpet; a crimson circle that led to a small puddle of blood oozing from a man's head.