What hit us before anything else was the sweet perfume of the house, as though it had become a war ground for a bunch of deodorants.
"What the....oh..." Detective Duke stopped.
Inside there were candles. Everywhere. On the shelves, in the fridge, around the tub, on the ceiling. Everywhere. They were of every color, shape, and size possible.
Each candle also had it's own perfume, but put together, there existed a sickly, flowery smell that made the nose go numb.
"She had...." I started.
"A smelling addiction. To candles. I get it. Your murdered employer lived with candles, and died because of one. A poisoned one. What a life." Detective Massie said with a mixture of awe and distaste.
"Yes," I sighed.
"Who gave her that accursed candle?" Duke asked.
"She had admirers as well as haters. Some say it was Mr. Crenshaw. I-I don't know, really. I wish I did though." I said slowly, suddenly feeling exhausted. Tears pricked my eyes.
Duke looked at me oddly and opened his mouth to say something, when Massie cut him across.
"Give her a break, Duke. Poor thing, she was just a loving caretaker, and ever since the murder she's gone through so much."
A little fiercely, and much more quietly, she added, "Honestly, if it had been her, she would've been caught already! She's already been questioned God-knows-how-many-times!"
To me, she turned and nodded, "Thanks so much."
They left in a hurry
* * *
It was a clear night, and I was in the balcony away from the scents, though I knew I'd go back in soon enough. What most people didn't know was that, just like my employer, I too had a sniffing addiction.
Of course, it was her who got all the candles, love, admiration. I was just the servant, poorly treated.
'Make me a sandwich dearie, and you might get another candle!' she'd say. How I used to fall for that. Used to.
Hey, I couldn't help it.
She had had a life that anyone would have killed to have.
So that's exactly what I did.
"What the....oh..." Detective Duke stopped.
Inside there were candles. Everywhere. On the shelves, in the fridge, around the tub, on the ceiling. Everywhere. They were of every color, shape, and size possible.
Each candle also had it's own perfume, but put together, there existed a sickly, flowery smell that made the nose go numb.
"She had...." I started.
"A smelling addiction. To candles. I get it. Your murdered employer lived with candles, and died because of one. A poisoned one. What a life." Detective Massie said with a mixture of awe and distaste.
"Yes," I sighed.
"Who gave her that accursed candle?" Duke asked.
"She had admirers as well as haters. Some say it was Mr. Crenshaw. I-I don't know, really. I wish I did though." I said slowly, suddenly feeling exhausted. Tears pricked my eyes.
Duke looked at me oddly and opened his mouth to say something, when Massie cut him across.
"Give her a break, Duke. Poor thing, she was just a loving caretaker, and ever since the murder she's gone through so much."
A little fiercely, and much more quietly, she added, "Honestly, if it had been her, she would've been caught already! She's already been questioned God-knows-how-many-times!"
To me, she turned and nodded, "Thanks so much."
They left in a hurry
* * *
It was a clear night, and I was in the balcony away from the scents, though I knew I'd go back in soon enough. What most people didn't know was that, just like my employer, I too had a sniffing addiction.
Of course, it was her who got all the candles, love, admiration. I was just the servant, poorly treated.
'Make me a sandwich dearie, and you might get another candle!' she'd say. How I used to fall for that. Used to.
Hey, I couldn't help it.
She had had a life that anyone would have killed to have.
So that's exactly what I did.
