The two men were having a staring contest. The cook was now in the interrogation room, his knife laid nicely in the middle of the table. The cook was young, his brown hair was gelled up, and he had somewhat of a smirk on his face. He had removed his apron, to reveal a fitted short sleeve black shirt, with long grey sleeves underneath. His left hand was wrapped in a sheet of white cloth, and appeared to have a smudge of lipstick on the side of his chin.

"Name" the detective said, narrowing his eyes at the cook.

"Christopher." He said back. Both men wouldn't crack first, and their eyes started to water. Then Christopher blinked, and the detective smiled in triumph. Christopher blinked many times and his hands appeared to go toward the knife.

"I have been told that you found the weapon. Is that true." The detective said his pen poised on the fresh piece of paper.

"Well someone had to go and search outside. I just happened to see something glistening on the side walk." Christopher's hand inched toward the knife again.

"Such a coincidence, sir." the detective said. He glanced at the knife on the dark wooden table, and saw something, rusted on the metal. The detective absentmindedly took the instrument and twirled the base between his fingers.

"You and Serrie seem very close."

The cook bit his lip, and glared at the wall behind the detective's head. "She's my girlfriend, and I love her. We met through Mademoiselle."


"I needed a job. Had just gotten off the streets, after I dropped out of the fancy prep school my parents forced me too. I was a bus boy in a stingy restaurant, and that's when Madam found me. I don't know why she was in such a horrible area, but she smiled at me, and asked if I could cook. Just out of now where. And then I came here."

The detective noticed that his eyes had gone foggy, like there was an underlying happiness to those memories.

Christopher continued. "I came here, and was blown away, and Serrie was the one who answered the door. Her cheeks burned red, and she looked at the floor, and I think I fell in love with her immediately."

"That's why you're sleeping with her best friend behind her back." The detective was blunt. But the split second look that flashed across the cook's face was all he needed to know the truth.

"What are you talking about?" Christopher's, hands where now gripping the arm rests, and his knuckled had turned white.

"I interviewed with Amanda already tonight. She slipped in saying where she went after the gun shots were heard. She said the kitchen. Where you would be. Then multiple times placed the murder on Serrie. Seems like a jealous mistress hmm. And then, in the holding room. I saw her glaring at you as she applied more makeup. And she grabbed your arm, when we lost the body."

Christopher had stood up, and all of the color had gone from his face. The detective stood up too and walked over to the cook. He handed him a white hankie.

"And there is a smudge of lipstick, right under your chin, the exact same shade as Miss. Amanda's lips."

The cook stiffened and fell back into his seat. "Please. You can't tell Serrie. She'd be crushed."

"That's not my job. But if it is useful to the investigation she will learn about it." The detective smiled inwardly at himself, and jotted down his speculations. "Now tell me, where were you when the shooting happened.

"Kitchen. Making lamb. Heard the shots, knife slipped, cut my hand open." He raised his left hand. The detective looked at the knife in his hands. The rusted stain appeared to be blood.

"You're blood, I'm guessing."

"You already know madam was shot."

"Just checking. Is it your blood?"

"Mine and mine only."

"Why didn't you clean it?"

"Because, I wrapped up my hand, and ran outside. No time to clean a bloody knife."

"Any idea who it could have been."

The cooks shook his head. "But it defiantly wasn't my Serrie. She was sitting on the countertop next to me when it happened."

"And Amanda?"

"Ran to the kitchen, and tried to make me hold her. Serrie had gone to check on the guests. I forced Amanda to go and check on Madam."

"Do you know anyone who could have any sort of motive?"

"I only know Serrie and Amanda in this house. All the others are strangers."

The detective sighed and looked down at his notebook. "Are you sure no one left the interrogation room and Amanda came back from showing the cleanup crew the body."

"Absolutely. No one would have gotten past my knife." The cook's hand started to shake. "How does a body just disappear like that detective?"

"I have no idea. Where is the murder weapon, Christopher?"

The cook's eyes widened. "In the drawing room. Would you like me to get it?"

"I'll come with you." The detective said, keeping the knife in his possession.

The two men walked down the stairs and into the lavish drawing room. There was a big, black plush couch, fitted with buttons, a roaring fire place in the corner, a beautiful Persian rug, and a lovely color wall paper.

"Was this Mademoiselle's only area of residence?"

"This is only where she hosted parties. She has a much more modest home in the country side. She also gave me Serrie and Amanda our own pla…." Christopher stopped short, and all of the color drained from his face.

"Christopher, what's the matt…" The detective swallowed hard and flipped open his note book. On the lovely colored wall, a blemish screamed out at the two men. The red medium dripped from the walls, and collected in a puddle on the floor. The gun was on the floor next to the mess.

"You see that too, right detective." The cook said, stepping backward toward the said man. The detective nodded. Both of their eyes widened, and they seemed to now be having a staring contest with the wall. The words where simple. But the fear they portrayed was anything but.

'Four, three, two, one. Now the Game has begun.'

Heylo. So what do you guys think. Anyone have an idea of who the killer is? Any questions comments or concerns? Shoot me a revain and let me know. Sorry for my grammatical errors.