MRS.McGREGOR’S MURDER
Harry Adam Smith was a police inspector who works by Scotland Yard. He was born on 1901 December the 23rd in Glasgow. He was tall and thin. He had a long brown courly hair and a brown eyes too. Under his medium-sized nose he had a bit of moustache and under his mouth and chin he had a bit of beard too. Inspector Smith had a wife named Jane.
The marriage were living in a small house near Inverness. They had two shy teenagers: Arthur was a seventeen years old boy and his sister Mary was a fifteen years old girl who was wonderful and magnificent.
When a man knocked the door that evening, I opened it. The foreign was
called Charles McGregor, my brother-in-law who lives in Manchester and
works as a baker. He said me that his wife was killed by someone in the street, two days before Christmas.
“I will investigate the murder” I said him. “But I can’t promise it. If the
commissary accept the case , I will help you... Ok?”. He was in silence three minutes and after this time, he went out of the room.
My son, who was behind the door, he said me he wanted help me. I accept his offer and I began to investigate the case. The following day we went to
McGregor’s home and Charles invited us to drink coffee with him and talked with us.
While he was explaining how his wife was discovered by him, I answered the commissary’s phone call. “We find some fingerprints on the gun but we don’t know who is the main suspected of the crime!” he told me. “I think your wife will be the killer. Isn’t it?” he asked me.
“Yes. Will be possible but Mr.McGregor explained us that his wife had a debt with someone. I think Charles is the killer because she had a lover or his wife often had smack him!” I answered. “I am seeing some wounds on his face and on his arms and legs!” I explained him.
When we finished asking the questions, we went out of his home. We went by my car, a green Simca Aronde, to the Police Station. We were greeted by the commissary called Simon McAllan and he told us that the name of the killer was Andrew Peterson. McAllan gave us his postal address and when we finished to eat our lunch, Simon and I went to Peterson's house while my son went to my parents home to spend the afternoon.
We arrived at 3 p.m. and we knocked the door. A man opened it and invited us to drink a cup of tea. We accepted his friendly invitation and while he was preparing the teas, we sat on the sofa.
The living room was more beautiful and bigger than mine, decorated by some antique furniture and the famous Da Vinci’s paintings. I saw a letter and I opened it.
The letter was written by Andrew Peterson who wanted to send it to Mrs.McGregor because he was in love of her. Five minutes later, he served the teas and we began to talk with him.
“What did you do the night before Mrs.McGregor’s death?” I asked him.
“I was in my house watching the television with my wife named Anne. You
can talk with her if you will think that I am lying!” he answered very angry. “I have a twin who live in Glasgow but that day was in a hotel near Manchester... He is called Walter Peterson!” he added.
We went out of his home when we finished to drink the teas and we went to
the hotel mentioned by Andrew Peterson. When we arrived the commissary
decided to stay inside the car while I was asking the receptionist the people who were in hotel that night. Andrew Peterson was not lying us!
When I knew the news, I said it to Simon McAllan. He ordered his police
officers and other members of his Police Station that they ought to go to
Walter Peterson’s home to arrest him because of Mrs.McGregor’s murder and other crimes caused by him.
The judge decided to declare Walter Peterson not guilty because of the murder but I demonstrated that he was the killer. Six month later, before the beginning of the Second World War, the judge closed Walter in a jail near London.
We celebrated the victory in a scottish pub and I resigned the post of
inspector to become a private detective and the new Prime Minister of United Kingdom. My son got marriage with his girlfriend.
