THE SIX MURDERS IN  SEATTLE 

Ekam Singh and Leyla Younes

Daastan Publishing

Ekam Singh and Leyla Younes 

Copyright © 2020 by Ekam Singh and Leyla Younes 

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof  may not be reproduced or used in any manner  whatsoever without the express written permission of  the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in  a book review. 

ISBN: 

979-8-6719-2743-6 

Daastan Publications 

www.daastan.com

The Six Murders in Seattle 

Editor(s) 

Reshail Naeem 

Summaiya Naveed 

_ 

Book Cover Copyrights Waleed Khan

Contents  

Chapter 1

Chapter 2 

Chapter 3 

Chapter 4 

Chapter 5 

Chapter 6 

Chapter 7 

Chapter 8 

The Six Murders in Seattle 

Chapter 1

“So, what brings you here officer? Let me guess—” the man  began, bringing the cigarette out of his mouth and letting  some of the ash fall into the ashtray.  

“-another criminal is beating your ass, and just sucking up to  Morgan won’t save your job this time.” He finished with an  air of arrogance, black eyes dancing with mischief, and a hint  of amusement. 

“Look, Greyson. I know we don’t get along. I’m very much  aware of that,” the newcomer replied, grimacing at the man  seated behind the desk as if it physically pained him to be  there. 

Light beams scattered throughout the room from the opened  curtains, illuminating it. Leaning back in the dark leather  office chair, Greyson put his dress shoes clad feet up on the  massive mahogany desk, crossing at the ankles. Cigarette in  hand, his black eyes roamed over the figure present in the  room, standing in front of his desk.  

A tall man with a good build and a sour expression on his  face. His dress shirt clinging tightly to him, brown coat  resting on his arm. Green eyes narrowed and his nostrils  flared at the man he was standing in front of.  

David Coleman had had no choice but to approach Ben  Greyson for this case. Standing now, in his office, with  Greyson leisurely leaning against his leather chair, David  had to compose himself, to succeed at getting help. 

“You are an egotistical maniac,” he said and was answered  with a snort from the man in the leather chair, “who kind of thinks he’s some Sherlock Holmes. But as much as we have  our differences, I need your help. The department needs your  help. This is beyond you and me,” David continued, his  voice serious.  

“I don’t want to work with you, or the entire department  actually,” Greyson replied, cigarette in the mouth once  again. 

Benjamin Greyson was a man of quite an interesting  personality. His black eyes and jet-black hair added to his  already cold and threatening aura. But the man was a genius.  A genius who could solve the most difficult of cases with his  sense of paying attention to every detail and thinking very  much out of the box, unlike the rest of his fellow detectives. 

“I know that. But think about it,” Coleman sighed, before  continuing, 

“You get to solve a puzzle. You love those, right? And you  can even rub it in my face, that I came begging to you. More  food for your ego,” the officer finished, his eyes narrowing  once more.  

“It would be another dumb case that your guys are too lazy  to solve on your own,” Greyson said, taking his feet off the  desk. 

“Well, you and I both know that I wouldn’t be here, had I  had any other option,” David replied, his voice stern and  body tense. 

“Not exactly a fan of how you work, and how you think  everyone deserves to suffer just because you are miserable.  But you have made your way, and aren’t a kiss-up—as you  like to describe me. Someday maybe, I will gather the guts too. But right now, we want you back. We do,” Coleman  added, a flicker of pleading to cross his eyes. 

“Look, David, flattery won’t get you anything. Why are you  still here?” Greyson asked, cocking his head to the side.  

“People’s lives are at stake, Ben. At least hear me out once,” Coleman spoke, his voice getting slightly louder.  

“I don’t care about people dying. Most of them just had it  coming anyway,” he replied, a frown on his face.  

“Three murders, back to back. All killed in the same  fashion—a spear point knife embedded right in the heart. No  signs of any struggle whatsoever,” the officer continued, putting a file on the desk in front of Greyson.  

“Alright. So, another nutcase trying to make sense of his  pathetic life. Must be some common motive, or some low key thug just trying to get some fame,” Greyson replied, eyeing the file on his desk before meeting Coleman’s gaze.  

“All of them were in their homes and were having a good  time right before they were killed. Here is the file, just in  case you change your mind.” He gestured to the file on the  desk and turned to leave. 

“Where is that friend of yours, by the way? You know, Dr.  Watson to your Sherlock.” The officer scoffed before  closing the door, rather too forcefully, behind him. 

“You suck at small talk even more than you do at your job, Dave,” Greyson chuckled, turning in his chair to look  outside his office window. 

***

“Where were you?” asked Greyson, as the door to his office  opened slowly, a head poking inside. 

“On a date,” Rohan replied with a sheepish smile as he took  a seat in front of his boss, across the desk. 

Greyson lifted an eyebrow at the response and crossed his  arms.  

“Oh, you know, the thing where people go out and mingle.  Get to know each other, you know. And then they-” Rohan  began, only to be cut off. 

“I know what a date is!” Greyson replied, annoyed.  

“Well, I’ve never seen you with a girl, so I wouldn’t know,” Rohan muttered as Grayson’s glare deepened. 

Rohan Bakshi was Ben Grayson’s friend and colleague for  almost 4 years now. Immediately after graduating, Rohan  had approached Ben and with enough persistence, secured  his place beside him.  

Indian heritage was visible in Rohan’s slightly darker skin  tone and those dark brown eyes that were always curious.  His lean built and cheeky smile made him all the more  attractive. 

“What’s this?” Rohan said, checking the file, and thus  effectively changing the subject.  

“David left it,” Ben replied, once again eyeing the file. He  hadn’t once touched it ever since David had left it on his  table.  

“David Coleman was here?” Rohan asked, excitement  visible in his voice. 

“No, David Beckham,” the detective quipped. Rohan rolled  his eyes.  

“Oh boy, why do you act all worked up every time he visits?  Reminds you of the glorious police force days?” Rohan  teased, winking at Greyson.  

“Why am I friends with you again?” Greyson raised his  hand, pinching the bridge of his nose.  

“What? What do you mean?” Rohan replied with a question  of his own, eyebrows furrowing. His friend was  unpredictable at times, even though Rohan had been with  him for years. 

“You are way younger than I am. We don’t have anything in  common. And I am kind of weird,” Greyson whispered the  last part to himself.  

“Oh yeah, wait a second. You don’t even want to know. You  are either bored or just trying to dodge my question.” Rohan knew his friend too well to fall for his ploy and thus went  straight into the kitchen to grab a bite, without even waiting  for an answer. 

*** 

“What’s on it though?” Rohan returned to the home office, scrolling through the file once more.  

“Three murders,” Rohan muttered, answering his question  with a frown on his face. “Could be serial killings. No  apparent link between the victims. All of them were  murdered brutally with a blade. Oh man, that’s a lot of blood!” His self-commentary continued as Ben stayed silent.  He did raise an eyebrow when Rohan mentioned the weapon  used in the crimes but didn’t say anything.  

“You know what, this is fun. I mean when did we last have  killings like these? Finally, a real case to solve! God, I’m  turning into you, Ben.” Rohan’s eyes widened and he  shuddered as if to shake off the recent revelation.  

“So, does the department want you back? Yeah, why else  would David be here?” Rohan continued, earning a glare and  a heavy sigh from Ben. “Ben! I’m talking to you. Are you  listening?” He nearly yelled in Ben’s ear.  

“Yes, he does want me on the case,” came Ben’s short reply, “Apparently the entire department’s thought process has hit  a brick wall,” he added, leaning back in his chair.  

“Well, all they do in the name of an investigation is get  phone call records and keep juggling with it. But come on, let’s do some real detective work, you know,” Rohan  snickered before turning to Ben with the expression of a kid  expecting candy on Halloween.  

“Yeah, and a get a new suspension letter, once they are  done,” Ben replied. 

“Look! I know you don’t bother about the department or the  people, but you like to solve things. You pretend like you  don’t miss it. But come on, let’s solve this and rub it in  Coleman’s face!” Rohan bolted, pumping a fist for effect.  

Ben picked the file at the table to have a look and Rohan’s  eyes lit up, his speech having the desired effect on Ben.  

***

Ben and Rohan walked inside the concrete giant known as  Seattle Police Headquarters and made their way to the  bureau of investigation. Walking past the rest of the  departments and office cubicles, hushed murmurs  surrounded by police officers and others, alike, as the duo  passed them. Brushing aside the stares and gossips, the two  made their way to the destination and Ben knocked once, before entering the massive hall.  

“Detective Benjamin Greyson! Welcome back. Good to  have you here again, son. Glad you changed your mind.” 

A man in his mid-fifties; a mop of salt and pepper hair  resting on his head, blue eyes gleaming, greeted Ben and  extended a hand, which Ben shook firmly, responding with  a smile of his own. 

Derek Morgan, read the nameplate. 

“Thank you, Chief,” Ben remarked.  

“This is Detective Marcella Rodriguez. She will be with you  on this case.” Derek motioned for a lady to step forward  beside him and in front of Benjamin. Ben turned to the  woman and was met by a set of beautiful yet hard coal gray  eyes. Her blonde hair was styled into a neat bun and she wore  a white button-down shirt with a pair of grey pants, a grey  jacket on top. 

“Hello, detective Greyson. I have heard a lot about you and  I’m sure we’ll work on our best capabilities to solve this  case.” Marcella said to Ben and the two shook hands, Ben  returning her words with a few professional ones of his own, before turning to Chief Morgan.

“Chief Morgan, I want Detective Bakshi on this case, as  well,” Ben told him, gesturing towards Rohan who was  standing next to him. 

“Oh! But he just started his career. Are you sure?” Morgan  replied. “What do you think detective Bakshi?” he asked  Rohan. 

“It will be an honor, sir. I have been with detective Greyson  for years now and I’m proud to say that I have gotten a  chance to learn from the best. I assure you, you will not have  any complaints regarding my capability.” Rohan replied, his  voice filled with confidence. 

“It’s decided, then. We all have our beginnings someday, and this is yours.” Morgan announced. “And Ben, I know  you and Officer David don’t have the warmest of relations.  But he will still be on the case. Although, you report directly  to me, for anything you need.” Morgan finished, as the group  moved to the briefing room. 

***

“Okay guys, this is what we have so far. Three murders; all male, different areas, no pattern in the day, and time of the  murder. No signs of struggle, nothing taken from the houses, and we have found the murder weapon every single time. We  are thinking it was left there on purpose, the method for all  being the blade embedded straight into the chest piercing the  heart and killing the victim on spot.” Marcella paused, giving everyone a once-over.

“There is one more startling fact: all the victims had  company, probably until right before they were murdered. Someone they knew was about to be there, because there are  no signs of struggle or forced entry into the house,” Marcella  informed the team. 

“This is going to be good,” Rohan mumbled to himself, snickering. 

“Detective Bakshi, do you have anything to add?” Marcella  pointed out, a stern look on her face. 

“Oh no, officer. Just really happy to be here,” Rohan gulped, quickly averting his eyes to study the papers in his hand.  Marcella continued to stare at Rohan for a while, before  nodding and continuing the briefing.  

***

“I haven’t seen you here before. You new?” A man in his  mid-sixties walked up to the girl, his eyes roaming her body  momentarily, before coming back up to settle his gaze on  hers.  

“Yes. I just moved here from New York. Couldn’t take it  there anymore,” the girl replied, slightly nudging the man. 

“Yeah, the greenery here can be a good antidote as compared  to New York’s skyscrapers,” he said, eyes once again taking  in the girl’s appearance.  

“Anyways. It’s Richard,” he added, extending his hand  towards the girl. 

“Erica.” She shook his extended hand. Her own eyes giving a once-over to him. Dressed in a grey pantsuit and a blinding  pink tie, he sat next to her on the couch and crossed his legs, letting his silver-tipped black dress shoes shine in the club  lighting. 

“So, you were checking me out for a while, right? Or am I  grossly mistaken and this is going to be awkward,” Richard  said with a nervous chuckle, as he drummed his fingers on  the armrest of the sofa.  

“Guilty as charged!” Erica laughed, nudging him with her  elbow once again, making Richard look briefly at her arm, then back up to her eyes.  

“Sorry. It doesn’t happen to me often. So, it’s good to  confirm.” He laughed, visibly relaxing at the information. 

“Uh, yeah,” Erica said slowly as she took a nervous look  around the club. 

“You alright? You seem a little shaky,” Richard asked, taking a look around the club himself before meeting her  eyes once again.  

“Yeah, yeah. It’s just the drink talking, I suppose,” Erica  answered, seeming more calmer than before.  

“This club is pretty boring, don’t you think? How about we  take this to my place?” Richard suggested as Closing Time started playing in the background. 

“What?” Erica drew her ear close to Richard, wanting to hear  him better with all the music. Her skin smelt as if it was  dipped in musk for hours, and Richard took the opportunity, taking many whiffs. 

“I said, we could take this to my place. I live nearby!” Richard yelled into her ear.  

“Oh okay!” Erica smiled and got a hold of her purse. “You  go ahead and I’ll just follow you out in a bit,” she added, yelling herself.  

“Excuse me, ma’am. You forgot to pay for the drinks,” the  bartender said as Erica passed by him.  

“No need to shout. I can hear you,” Erica spat, handing him  the cash. 

*** 

“So, Erica. What do you do?” Richard asked as the two  settled down in Richard’s living room.  

“I um…work for an IT company,” Erica replied with a wide  smile. 

“Oh, so we have a nerd in the house…” Richard chipped, “…a really pretty one though,” he added with a warm smile.