Tell me no lies

Tell me no lies

"Good morning," I smiled at Anna. Then I discovered the horrible look on her face, and concluded it was a bad morning, a very bad morning. "Peter has committed suicide," she whispered. "Yesterday evening, under a train." I couldn't believe it. Peter Attrail was 49, an honest, hard working tax consultant. He was the last man I would suspect of once committing suicide. I feared this would be a mystery even darker than we could think of at first sight. And I decided I wanted to know what really happened.

Anna didn't know what really happened, she only knew that he committed a suicide under a train. I wanted to know what happened specifically, the only person that's going to really help me is John Acres, he's my brother-in-law, and he's a very good police officer.

I grabbed my cordless phone from the table, and dialed the 7 digit numbers of his house. "Hello" I began. "John, how are you?" I added.

"I'm fine, haven't seen you for a long time, what's up" He wondered.

I took a deep breath, and asked. "Do you know what happened?"

"Yes, I know" He answered too quickly. "Peter committed suicide, I already know. But, I don't think he did"

I walked to the living room with the phone, and sat on the big couch. "What do you mean?" I then asked.

"Somebody killed him. I'm very sure of that, I mean, why would Peter commit suicide?" He answered my question.

"You're right, that's what I thought too. Peter was the happiest man ever on earth, why would he kill himself?" I muttered.

After talking for an hour, we decided to study this case, and try to solve this. I really think it's more like a mystery than a case. I've got to solve this mystery, I just really want to know if he committed a suicide or was killed. He was my good friend, and I never thought of losing him at all.

I looked at my watch and noticed that it's almost 10 o'clock, and I've got to sleep early. I walked upstairs, and headed to my room, then I saw my wife, Anna, crying softly.

"What's wrong, honey?" I asked her, gently.

"I just can't believe that Peter is gone?" she sobbed.

I sat on the bed beside her, and gave her a kiss on the cheeks. "Honey, it's alright," I said. "I was on the phone, talking to your brother about Peter's death. He said, that Peter was killed, he didn't commit suicide"

I jumped into the bed, and placed all my worries and fears behind me. Hours past by, and I'm still thinking about Peter and his death. He was really special to me.

When I woke up the next morning, I felt too tired to move. I didn't sleep that good, just for 3 hours or so.

I walked downstairs, opened the TV, and started preparing some breakfast; that's my daily routine.