Five Sons, One Murder

Chapter2

FIVE SONS, FIVE SECRETS

By noon, the Williams mansion no longer felt like home.

It felt like a prison.

Police officers stood at almost every entrance, security guards were being questioned, and strangers in gloves moved through rooms that had once been considered private.

The family portrait hanging above the staircase seemed almost mocking now.

Five brothers.

One father.

One dead body.

And countless secrets.

Chad stood by the large windows in the living room, staring outside.

The swimming pool was no longer visible from where he stood, but he could still picture it.

His father's body.

The blue water.

The police tape.

He closed his eyes.

He hadn't cried.

He didn't know why.

Perhaps because something inside him still refused to believe that Richard Williams was dead.

Or perhaps because there were too many things left unsaid between them.

"You're awfully quiet."

Chad opened his eyes.

Michael stood behind him.

"I don't feel like talking."

Michael walked closer.

"That's new."

Chad turned around.

"What do you want?"

"Nothing."

"Then why are you here?"

Michael shrugged.

"I live here too."

"You barely live here."

Michael gave him a bitter smile.

"That's because Dad made sure I never felt welcome."

Chad sighed.

"Can we not do this today?"

"When exactly are we going to do it?"

Michael stepped closer.

"Dad is dead, Chad. The police think one of us killed him. Don't you think that's a little more important than whatever argument we're having?"

Chad looked at him.

"You were the one who argued with him last night."

Michael's expression changed.

"So?"

"So you're the one they should be questioning."

"They already did."

"Then you should have nothing to worry about."

Michael laughed.

"Funny coming from you."

"What does that mean?"

Michael stared at him for a few seconds.

Then he shook his head.

"Nothing."

He walked away.

Chad watched him leave.

There was something strange about the way Michael had looked at him.

Almost as if he knew something.

Something Chad didn't want him to know.

His phone vibrated.

He looked at the screen.

A message from an unknown number.

I know what you did.

Chad's heart skipped.

He stared at the message.

Another one arrived.

Your father wasn't the only person keeping secrets.

Chad quickly deleted both messages.

He slipped his phone into his pocket.

Then he looked around the room to make sure nobody had seen.

Unfortunately for him, someone had.

Prince stood at the entrance.

Watching.

"Problem?" Prince asked.

Chad's face remained calm.

"No."

Prince tilted his head.

"You're a terrible liar."

"Stay out of my business."

Prince smiled.

"That's exactly what Dad used to say."

He walked away.

Chad's jaw tightened.

For the first time that morning, he wondered if his brothers were hiding something.

Then another thought entered his mind.

Maybe they were all hiding something.

---

Across town, Detective Chris sat behind his desk, staring at a photograph.

Richard Williams.

The photograph had been taken at a charity event several months earlier.

He looked powerful.

Confident.

Untouchable.

Chris had investigated wealthy men before.

They usually had two lives.

The one they showed the world.

And the one they desperately tried to hide.

His assistant, Detective Maya, entered the room carrying a brown evidence folder.

"We got something."

Chris looked up.

"What?"

"The security system."

She placed the folder on his desk.

"The cameras weren't simply turned off."

Chris opened the folder.

"What happened?"

"Someone entered the security room at 11:47 p.m."

"Do we have a face?"

"No."

"Why?"

"The camera inside the room was disabled."

Chris leaned back.

"Someone knew exactly what they were doing."

"That's what I thought."

"Anything else?"

Maya hesitated.

"The system was manually shut down."

Chris frowned.

"Meaning?"

"Meaning whoever did it had access."

Chris stared at the folder.

"Family?"

"Possibly."

"Staff?"

"Possibly."

Chris stood.

"What about the anonymous caller?"

"We're still tracing the number."

"How long?"

"Could take a while."

Chris picked up his jacket.

"Then let's go talk to the family."

Maya followed him.

"You think one of the sons did it?"

Chris stopped at the door.

"I think five sons are hiding five different secrets."

He looked back at the photograph.

"And one of those secrets might be murder."

---

At the Williams mansion, the brothers had gathered in the dining room.

Nobody was eating.

The enormous dining table, which normally hosted expensive dinners and family celebrations, now separated five uncomfortable men.

Stephen was staring at his phone.

Matthew was quietly reading his Bible.

Michael was sketching something on a piece of paper.

Prince sat with his arms crossed.

Chad was silent.

The front door opened.

Detective Chris entered with Detective Maya.

Chris looked around the room.

"I'd like to speak with each of you individually."

Prince leaned back.

"Again?"

Chris looked at him.

"Yes. Again."

Prince smiled.

"You police officers really don't trust people."

"Not when someone is dead."

The smile disappeared.

Chris pulled out a chair.

"Let's begin with Chad."

Chad stood.

The two men walked into the study.

Chris closed the door behind them.

He sat opposite Chad.

"Doctor Williams."

"Detective."

"How would you describe your relationship with your father?"

"Complicated."

"That's what everyone says."

"Because it's true."

"Did he support you?"

"Yes."

"Emotionally?"

Chad paused.

"My father wasn't an emotional man."

"Did you love him?"

Chad looked at him.

"Of course."

"Did you hate him?"

Chad's eyes hardened.

"No."

Chris watched him carefully.

"Where were you between ten and midnight?"

"At the hospital."

"We already know that."

"Then why ask?"

"Because I want to hear you say it."

Chad leaned forward.

"I was at the hospital."

"Yet your records show you left at 10:18."

Silence.

Chris continued.

"Where did you go?"

"I had something to take care of."

"What?"

"Personal business."

"With whom?"

Chad didn't answer.

Chris wrote something in his notebook.

"Your father recently changed his will."

Chad's expression remained controlled.

"I know."

"How much did you stand to inherit?"

"I don't know."

"You never asked?"

"No."

Chris smiled slightly.

"Interesting."

Chad stood.

"Are we finished?"

"For now."

As Chad reached the door, Chris spoke again.

"Doctor."

Chad turned.

"If you know something about your father's death, now is the best time to tell me."

Chad stared at him.

"I don't."

He walked out.

Chris watched the door close.

"He's lying," Maya said from the corner.

Chris looked at her.

"Yes."

---

Michael entered next.

He sat down without being asked.

Chris studied him.

"You visited your father last night."

"Yes."

"You argued."

"Yes."

"What about?"

Michael sighed.

"My father wanted me to stop painting."

"Why?"

"Because he thought it was a waste of time."

"Was money involved?"

"Of course."

"How much did you owe him?"

Michael laughed.

"Probably more than I could ever repay."

"Did he threaten to cut you off?"

"Yes."

"Did that make you angry?"

"Very."

"Angry enough to kill him?"

Michael stared at him.

"No."

Chris remained silent.

Michael looked down at his hands.

"When I left, Dad was alive."

"Did anyone see you leave?"

"No."

"Convenient."

Michael's eyes narrowed.

"You think I killed him."

"I think you're hiding something."

"So is everyone else."

Chris leaned forward.

"What are you hiding?"

Michael looked toward the window.

"I saw someone."

Chris's expression changed.

"Who?"

"I don't know."

"When?"

"Last night."

"Where?"

Michael swallowed.

"When I was leaving the house."

Chris sat forward.

"What did you see?"

"A woman."

"Did you recognize her?"

"No."

"What did she look like?"

"She was standing near the gate."

"Did you speak to her?"

"No."

"Then how do you know she wasn't just a passerby?"

Michael looked at him.

"Because she was looking directly at the house."

Chris wrote it down.

"Anything else?"

Michael hesitated.

"She was wearing a red scarf."

Chris stopped writing.

"A red scarf?"

"Yes."

"Anything unusual about her?"

Michael thought for a moment.

"She looked scared."

"Scared of what?"

Michael shook his head.

"I don't know."

Chris closed his notebook.

"Thank you."

Michael stood.

At the door, he stopped.

"Detective?"

"Yes?"

"If you're really trying to find my father's killer..."

He looked back.

"Don't trust my brothers."

Then he left.

---

Prince entered without knocking.

Chris gestured toward the chair.

Prince sat.

"You have quite the reputation," Chris said.

"I've heard."

"Businessman?"

"Among other things."

"Some people say you're involved with organized crime."

Prince smiled.

"Some people talk too much."

"Are they lying?"

"Depends on who you ask."

Chris leaned back.

"Your father knew about your connections."

Prince's smile disappeared.

"He knew."

"And he threatened to expose you?"

"Yes."

"Would that give you a reason to kill him?"

Prince looked directly into Chris's eyes.

"If I wanted someone dead, Detective, I wouldn't leave them floating in a swimming pool."

Chris studied him.

"That's not an answer."

"It is."

Prince stood.

"Someone wanted you to look at me."

Chris frowned.

"What makes you say that?"

"Because I'm the obvious suspect."

He opened the door.

"And killers rarely make things that obvious."

Then he walked away.

Chris remained seated.

For the first time, he wondered if Prince was right.

---

Stephen was next.

Unlike his brothers, he looked exhausted.

Chris placed a photograph on the desk.

It showed Richard Williams standing beside Stephen at the opening of Stephen's cement company.

"You were close to your father?"

Stephen stared at the photograph.

"Once."

"What happened?"

"Life."

"That's vague."

Stephen smiled sadly.

"My father had expectations."

"And you disappointed him?"

"Sometimes."

"Did you argue with him recently?"

"Yes."

"About your company?"

"No."

"Then what?"

Stephen looked down.

"My relationship."

Chris waited.

Stephen sighed.

"There was a woman."

"Your father disapproved?"

"Very much."

"Why?"

"He thought she wasn't good enough for this family."

"Did he try to separate you?"

"Yes."

"Did you blame him?"

Stephen's eyes became wet.

"I hated him for it."

Chris was silent.

Stephen wiped his face quickly.

"But I didn't kill him."

"Where were you last night?"

"At home."

"Alone?"

"Yes."

"Can anyone confirm that?"

"No."

Chris closed the file.

"Thank you."

As Stephen left, Chris noticed something on the chair.

A small piece of paper.

He picked it up.

There were only three words written on it.

SHE KNOWS EVERYTHING.

Chris looked toward the door.

"Stephen."

The door opened.

Stephen stared at him.

Chris held up the paper.

"What does this mean?"

Stephen's face went completely pale.

"I don't know."

And for the first time, Chris believed him.

---

Matthew entered with Naomi.

Chris looked at both of them.

"I only asked for Matthew."

Naomi smiled politely.

"I'm his wife. If my husband is being questioned about his father's death, I think I should be here."

Chris studied her.

"Fine."

They sat.

"Matthew, where were you last night?"

"At home."

"With Naomi?"

"Yes."

Chris looked at Naomi.

"Can you confirm that?"

"Yes."

"Did Matthew leave the house?"

"No."

Chris nodded.

Then he looked at Naomi.

"You were close to Richard Williams?"

She smiled faintly.

"He was my father-in-law."

"That's not what I asked."

The smile disappeared.

"I respected him."

"Did you like him?"

Naomi hesitated.

"Sometimes."

Matthew looked at her.

Chris noticed.

"What happened between you and Mr. Williams?"

"Nothing."

"Mrs. Williams, I need honesty."

Naomi's fingers tightened around her Bible.

"My father-in-law had his faults."

"What faults?"

She looked at Matthew.

Matthew shook his head slightly.

Naomi looked back at Chris.

"I don't think this is the right time."

Chris leaned forward.

"Someone murdered your father-in-law."

Naomi's eyes filled with something Chris couldn't identify.

Fear.

Guilt.

Or both.

"And whoever did it may be sitting in this house."

She stood.

"Then I hope you find the truth."

She took Matthew's hand.

They left.

Chris watched them disappear.

Maya entered the room.

"Something's wrong with that woman."

Chris nodded.

"Yes."

"What do you think she knows?"

Chris looked at the empty chair.

"I don't know yet."

He gathered the files.

"But I intend to find out."

---

That evening, the mansion became strangely quiet.

The brothers had retreated to different parts of the house.

Chad remained in his room.

Michael painted.

Stephen sat alone on the balcony.

Prince disappeared somewhere without telling anyone.

Matthew prayed with Naomi.

Nobody noticed the figure walking quietly through the hallway.

The figure stopped outside Richard Williams' study.

The door was locked.

A key appeared in their hand.

The lock clicked.

The door opened.

The figure stepped inside.

They moved directly toward the desk.

After searching through several drawers, they finally found what they were looking for.

A small black envelope.

The person opened it.

Inside was a photograph.

Five boys stood beside their father.

But someone had been cut out of the picture.

The figure stared at the missing person.

Then whispered:

"You should have taken this secret to your grave, Richard."

A noise came from the hallway.

The figure froze.

Footsteps.

Someone was coming.

They quickly hid the envelope beneath their clothes and turned toward the door.

The handle began to move.

And then—

The lights went out.

TO BE CONTINUED...