June Challenge - Crime

The girls excited chatter changed to a gasp as the Mercedes rolled into the courtyard of the Berghof and the Bavarian Alps rolled out spectacularly over the perimeter wall. They disembarked quickly from three six-seater cars and Anna felt it necessary to bring order to the chaos. 'Achtung!' she commanded and the 1st Division of The League of German Girls stood to attention. 

The Gaylord Hotel's secret meeting room hosted a round table of mafias. In front of each member, along with snacks, a bottle of sweet red wine, and a glass. Cigars and lighters were also provided. The men displayed their power by keeping their pistols in front. Tony Lucas, the most important Don of this city and country, had two unchained, black leopards beside him. No one cared. They often held meetings with Tony Lucas.

During the gathering, a foreign mafia member, the powerful Don Mario, challenged Tony Lucas to increase the stock deliveries to him or he would get another business partner. Tony vowed to buy a farm to deliver more hashish, ganja, opium, and brown sugar.

When a young woman inherits a mansion from a man she does not know, her life is at risk. Who is behind the mysterious illness and death of the wealthy man? What is the connection to her? What is at stake? She soon discovers the family relationship becomes a serious threat. Danger lurks behind the set of keys to the house.  

The short story I'm sending was written as part of an exercise in a creative writing workshop I participated in. The theme of the exercise was to imagine a meeting with a literary hero of our choice. For this exercise, I chose Hercule Poirot. The original text was written in Greek, and for this platform, I attempted to translate it into English. I want to emphasize that the story is fictional, and any similarities to real persons or situations are coincidental. The only true elements are that I did study in London, unfortunately without meeting Hercule Poirot, and that finding good coffee can be challenging.

"Maybe you know the answer." They locked eyes. "You always know," he avoided her gaze when she smiled.

A loud thud echoed through the house. Tristan looked over his shoulder.

“Damn near a total blackout! Can someone get some light over here?” the detective yells. His flashlight is too dim to illuminate the area effectively. Heavy rain captures the light and distorts it, making it difficult to see in the nearly complete darkness of the blacked-out alley. Several more flashlights are turned on, casting blurry beams in the alley. “More light!” the detective demands.

He is a doppelganger of a Bollywood star. He is also a spy. Will Vir dance his way into the lair of an international terrorist and sashay out alive? And what's with those dark glasses the celebrities wear to every event?