MURDER AT THE RECTORY.

A shrill cry shattered the evening air. The Rector raced into the study, and a scene of unimaginable carnage. His wife Alma Whittington sobbed loudly over the dead body.

“Polly’s been murdered,” Alma gasped.

The Rector Robert Whittington knelt beside the body. Apart from an incision at the base of neck, there was little sign that a felony had occured. Polly lay peacefully on her side, her deep Blue eyes staring at the ceiling. The Rector looked around for any sign of a struggle, but apart from some mis-placed Parish papers; the room was as it should be.
“ We won’t have far to look for the culprits,Its time we paid those gentlemen a visit,” Robert said grimly.

They both walked forlornly to the sitting room, the door was slightly ajar.

“You did it,” Alma screamed as a dark pair of eyes swept over her.”

“Alma,” Robert said gently, “Its best not
make an assumptions until we know the truth.”

Mr Asner stared coldly out the window, unmoved by Alma’s outburst. Robert closed the door quietly and looked at Mr Barnum. He leaned casually against the oak table, if he had committed a murder; he showed no signs of it.

“We took you in from the cold and sheltered you,” Alma raged, “Is this how you repay our trust.”

Mister Barnum scratched his head and opened his mouth, as if about to speak.
Thomas Whittington sighed and put his arm around his shaking wife.
“She was so young, so full of life,” Alma said shaking her head. The picture of Polly’s face was one she knew, she would never forget. She felt a shiver down her spine as she looked at Mr. Asner.

At that very moment a breathless Gertrude Geller entered the room.

“Oh no,” she cried on seeing the lifeless form, sprawled across the Whittington’s Rustic Red Carpet.

“I heard the scream and came as quickly as I could,” the by now Red faced next door Neighbor panted.

“It’s to late Gertrude,” Alma sighed, “Polly is gone from us now.”

“And we are gathered here to unmask her killer,” the Rector said earnestly.

The Rector paced over to Mr. Barnum and gave him a steely stare.

“Where were you going a half hour ago, Mr. Barnum. I saw you in the Hall, and you seemed to be running away from something. Perhaps you were fleeing from the scene of a crime.

Mr. Barnum looked desperately at Mr. Asner as if seeking some help. Mr. Asner turned away, and ignored him.

“You’ve got a guilty look Mr. Barnum,” the
Vicar contined.

Mr. Barnum shifted uneasily, his eyes began to blink faster, he felt trapped he wanted to
make a run for it now.

“Wait,” Gertrude broke in, I think I know
the killer.”

Robert and Alma turned in surprise, this was indeed a twist in the tail.
Gertrude slowly paced the room as she tried to gather her thoughts.

“I went for my nap about Four PM. I remember
falling asleep quickly it was so warm and so very
still. I was in a deep sleep. When I thought I
heard a cry, it was Polly’s voice”...

Robert and Alma gasped as Gertrude’s grisly story began to unfold.

“At first I thought I was dreaming and fell
back to sleep. Now I realize it was Polly calling
out the name of her Assailant.”

A flutter of a breeze filtered through the open bay windows as Gertude Geller stared at
the shocked faces of Thomas an Alma Whittington. She cleared her throat and spoke....

“She screamed, Murder, Murder, Mr......

Thomas and Alma leaned forward as Gertrude unmasked a killer.

“Mr, Asner.”

The Reverend Robert Whittington inhaled sharply.

“Oh no Gertrude,not Mr Asner.”

Gertrude nodded solemnly.

The Reverend slumped in his armchair and tried to comprehend this suprising news.
Alma Whittington smiled triumphantly.

“Yes Robert Mr. Asner is a cold blooded
killer. I knew it all along, I saw the way he
used to look at her."

Alma looked over to the window, Mr. Asner never flinched as she marched over to him.

“You were always so perfectly mannered, I knew it was to good to be true.”

Robert Whittington shook his head sorrowfully.

“Not for one moment did I ever suspect him Alma,
I thought he wouldn’t harm a fly.”

Mr. Asner looked at the shocked faces of Alma, Robert and Gertrude. He knew what he had to do. It was no use trying to act innocent, there were far to many witnesses for that.To him killing was a matter of fact, a way of life. There was only one way out.
Mr. Asner leapt from the window........

Robert Whittington called out as Mr. Asner raced from the room.

“You wont get away this,”

Mr Asner kept going. He knew it was time to disappear for a while,and ride out the storm.

A cold Autumn sun shone down as they laid Polly to rest. Robert and Alma Whittington watched as the leaves tumbled slowly down from the old Oak tree. A pair of dark eyes watched from deep within the bushes which surrounded the graveside. Mr.
Asner watched coldly, he felt little remorse for his actions. Robert Whittington fondly patted the headstone and read the little inscription with misty eyes.

HERE LIES

POLLY THE PARROTT

REST IN PEACE OLD FRIEND.

The Ginger Tom Cat emerged from the bushes and walked slowly back towards the house.

“Your a very very naughty boy,” Alma scolded as he marched away.

Mr.Asner kept walking. The storm was already abating, It was time for his faverite Arm chair. Murder after all, could be a very tiresome business!