Who Is The Killer? : Part 11

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John:

This is bullshit. Two of the primary suspects were dead, and that Robert didn’t seem to be giving a damn about anything anymore. Dave Smith’s death now seemed to make some sense, but what about the businessman? His death was the most random thing possible. Just a few minutes back, he was right there, helping us find the killer, and now, he’s gone.

I guess that was time for me to take charge. Even though nothing seemed to be going right, I had to find Janet’s killer under any circumstances. And I knew where the answer to all my questions lay.

I went to the cop Steve and said,

“I need to leave. Please.”

He looked at me suspiciously for a while, and then nodded.

I immediately left for the airport and boarded the earliest available flight to London. It took me almost five hours before landing at the airport in London. Then, I took a cab to Smith Industries, which was Dave Smith’s main office. There was an awkward silence in the thirty six storey building. Everyone seemed upset because of the death of Dave.

I requested to receptionist to allow me to meet Tracy, Dave’s secretary. She denied, saying that Tracy was not in a condition to meet anybody at that point of time. I had to meet Tracy at any cost. She was the one who had the answers to all my questions.

Suddenly, an idea struck my mind.
I tapped at the receptionist’s desk.
“This is about Dave Smith’s death. I know something no one else knows, and I can reveal that only to Tracy.”

She seemed shocked. Finally, she nodded and said,

“Office number 1864. 18th floor, left corner.”

I smiled at her and rushed to the 18th floor. Tracy’s cabin was at the extreme left corner, as the receptionist had said.

The door was locked from inside. I knocked gently. There was no reply for a while. After around five minutes, a gorgeous lady with long golden-brown hair opened the door. I have no clue why, but she reminded me of Janet. I could sense the fear in her eyes, which seemed to diminish when she made an eye contact with me.

Before I could say anything, she spoke,

“Are you John?”

I nodded.

Immediately, she grabbed my hand and pulled me inside. She locked the door.

“I’m glad you came. You’re the only one who can help me. Mr. Smith didn’t die of a heart attack. He was killed.”

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