Clue: A Uniform-Stealing Mystery. Part I. Suspects and Surprises

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‘I am sure it was the maid. It is always the maid!’, Brenda said in a hushed voice but full with confidence.
‘It is the butler!’ Detective Brandy House quietly yet emphatically answered, amused by her friend and lover’s enthusiasm.
‘Come on, this guy was a philanderer in his youth, I am sure he had become a creep in his old age. He for sure hired a sexy maid to do the cleaning. I bet she is a hot redhead who wears a skimpy outfit and sexy stockings’, the blonde concluded, winking an eye to Brandy.
‘You are probably right, but let’s not jump to conclusions’, the detective retorted, smiling.
‘I know. No speculations, just facts. That is what you always say, isn’t it?’, Brenda concluded.

Brandy House’s face glowed, realising how much she liked Brenda, and answered: ‘I do always say that. These are the facts: 1) Melchior Murdock, a millionaire who made his fortune in the oil business, passed away four weeks ago, at the age of 85. 2) Today, his will is going to be made public, so the living relatives had been summoned to his house. No one anticipates how his wealth and precious works of art are going to be distributed, but considering the complex family dynamics at play, it is going to be a contentious decision. 3) The most coveted part of the inheritance is the ‘Blue Ruby’, a gigantic jewel of dubious origin. Allegedly, it is a family heirloom brought across the pond by Murdock’s great-aunt on the Titanic. 4) This jewel and other pieces of art are held in a private museum. 5) Earlier this morning, the museum alarm went off, but no intruder was found, there were no signs of forced entry and nothing was stolen. 6) Only the museum curator, Helga Hoeness, and the head of security, Mia Mackenzie, can open the museum’s door using their fingerprints. 7) No crime has been committed so far, but my boss, Cpt London believes this might be an opportunity to clear our names, especially mine, after our last case’s debacle’.

‘You are missing one important fact: the maid is missing’, Brenda added, teasingly.
‘You are right: the maid is missing and the mansion is, consequently, a mess’, the detective conceded, smiling.
‘I also know that you already have a theory of what has happened. Hell, I am sure that after watching all that security footage during the drive here you have already cracked the case!’, Brenda said, raising her voice, which attracted surprised looks from the rest of women who sat at the museum’s main room.

Detective House had indeed watched hours of security footage at 8x speed while Brenda drove them to the mansion and she had found many interesting things. However, she wanted to be more cautious than the last time, so, when she called her boss, she only told him that Svenson and Segura were ‘tied up’ with other business, but she had brought her friend Brenda, the blonde paramedic, with her as backup. Her shrewd boss chuckled and said: ‘Ok, do what you need to do, but it is now 2.12 pm, so if I do not hear from you in three hours, I will assume that, one more time, the criminal or criminals had stolen your clothes and your friend’s ‘borrowed’ police uniform in order to escape’. Brandy sighed, hurt by London’s pointed remark but relieved by her boss’ nonchalantly attitude, and answered: ‘Fair enough’. The call was abruptly interrupted, and the brunette detective realised that they had arrived to Murdock’s mansion. The old billionaire alleged that he had some kind of electromagnetic sensitivity, so he had frequency inhibitors installed everywhere, making cell phones completely useless, except to take pictures and videos that you cannot send to anyone. It would not be easy to contact her boss no matter what happened.

Everyone had gathered in the museum’s main room, where the Blue Ruby was displayed, in order to attend the reading of Murdock’s will. Considering the situation, Brandy and Brenda, who everyone thought was a real policewoman, had been allowed to be present. A big picture of the museum’s now deceased owner presided the room. The guy had been attractive in his day: luscious black hair, strong jawline, round nose and magnetic, pale blue, almost grey, eyes which stared at you. The detective stopped looking at the picture and focused on the rest of the women who were in the room. ‘Time to organize my thoughts’, Brandy told herself.

Elizabeth Huckney, Mr. Murdock’s lawyer and senior partner of Mason, Mason and Huckney’, and Felicia Ferrel, one of the firm’s paralegal, sat at a table near the Blue Ruby, going through their paperwork before reading their client’ wills. Brandy House proceeded to ‘scan’ the two women. Elizabeth was a tall, attractive woman in her mid-forties, with curly red hair and green eyes, who wore a white silk blouse, black tight trousers, a matching blazer and not much jewellery except for a discreet golden necklace with a small, blue jewel. Felicia, by contrast, was a short and curvaceous blonde with curly hair. She was in her twenties and she wore cute glasses. The young paralegal was wearing in a similar style than her boss: white blouse, a navy-blue skirt and a matching blazer. The brunette detective stared at Felicia’s round thighs for a few seconds and her patience was rewarded with a quick glimpse of the blonde’s white panties and the embroidered end of the paralegal’s light-brown stockings.

It was, in fact, the second time that Brandy House had had the opportunity to get a peek on the blonde paralegal’s lingerie. Felicia had spent the last week at the mansion, making inventory of the pieces of art held in the museum before the reading of Murdock’s will. Therefore, the detective and Brenda had gone to talk to her, and when they entered the bedroom, they were greeted by a vanilla scent and by a lovely sight: Felicia was kneeling on the floor, trying to pick up some papers from under the bed. The blonde paralegal was only wearing a pink camisole who had ridden up her waist, showing her round ass, only covered by black cheeky panties, to the visitors. When she heard the door, she got startled, hitting her head with bed’s frame. After a few seconds, she more or less regained her composure. The paralegal, red with embarrassment, said that she had not noticed that the window was open, pointing to the tens of papers now scattered around the bedroom’s floor. The detective and Brenda helped her to collect the papers and Brandy realised that the Blue Ruby was not mentioned in them. The paralegal’s bedroom faced the museum, but, when she had asked her if she had seen anything, she said that she was in the kitchen, trying to get a late breakfast because the maid had not brought her anything to eat, when the museum’s alarm went off. There were no cameras inside the house, so Brandy could not confirm the paralegal’s alibi.

Her boss, on the other hand, could be ruled out as a suspect, at least for now. Elizabeth Huckney had arrived to the mansion only an hour ago. There had been an incident at the Pacific City International Airport, where the lawyer came from. A female convict who was being transferred to another prison had escaped after stealing the clothes of the marshal who watched her. The police shut down the airport while the police searched for her, but after a while they had to restore the air traffic, accepting that the criminal was on the loose. Brandy’s imagination ran wild. The detective imagined a tough but curvaceous brunette who wore her hair in a ponytail, wearing the sexy female version of a Justified outfit, consisting of tight jeans, boots, a shirt, a blazer, a cowgirl hat and a badge. In her mind, the criminal invented some pretext, like going to the bathroom, to attack the unsuspecting marshal by surprise. The short fight resulted in the officer of the law being bound and gagged in her underwear while the convict managed to escape wearing the marshal’s uniform. Brandy imagined the feisty woman red with fury when the police found her in one of the bathroom’s stalls, taped to the toilet while wearing only Calvin Klein grey bikini panties and a matching t-shirt bra. She could picture very vividly the pretty woman’s muffled shouts and how her round tits wriggled when she tried futilely to free from her bonds.

The detective’s daydreaming got interrupted by Brenda’s voice. ‘Ok, Brandy, maybe we do not know who tried to break into the museum yet, but we are 100% that the blonde curator is gold-digger who fucked the old guy for money, right? That bitch does not know anything about art or anything, really. I do like her though, she is fun’, the blonde said, making a gesture towards the curator.

Brandy snorted, drowning a laughter, and looked at Helga Hoeness. The blonde curator, a tall, statuesque blonde with blue eyes and an hourglass body type, was wearing an unappropriated outfit: a very short dark-green dress with a generous cleavage, black stockings and stiletto black shoes. However, the brunette detective already knew that Helga was anything but shy. When Brenda and her had arrived at the mansion, they had gone straight to the blonde curator’s room, because she had been the one who had called the police. Helga was waiting for them wearing a silk red robe, but it was almost completely open, so they could admire her spectacular body and racy lingerie, which consisted on lacy yellow panties, a matching lacy bra which hardly contained her juicy breasts and black garters and stockings. The blonde curator did not seem embarrassed in the slightest by her appearance, but she apologised for the state of the bedroom, which was a mess, blaming it to the mysterious disappearance of the maid.

The detective’s keen eye had quickly scanned the room, in search for clues. The brunette noticed a purple bra among a pile of dirty clothes that was two sizes too small for Helga’s generous bust and, after a quick glance at an open drawer, she saw a vibrator, a ball-gag, coils of rope and a pair of handcuffs. Brandy hated speculations, but it seemed very likely that, after the passing of old Murdock, the blonde curator had found a new lover and they both were into bondage sex. When Helga had told her that she was ‘catching up’ with Mia McKenzie, the mansion’s head of security, because she could not talk to her last night, when they both heard the unmistakable sound of the museum’s alarm, it was easy to figure out who the curator’s lover was. The detective pictured the extremely attractive blonde lying on her bed, bound, ball-gagged and with a vibrator placed on her crotch, and immediately thought of Segura and Svenson, the two policewomen who Brenda had left in her apartment in a similar predicament. ‘After I crack the case, Brenda and I are going to have a lot of fun with the two cops. Who knows? Maybe we can meet with Helga sometime too. We seem to like similar things’, the detective started to wonder with lust.

The blonde curator was the one who had told them that only she and the head of security could open the museum’s gate using their fingerprints. On the other hand, Helga had never met any of her boss’ relatives, probably because they would not like the ‘new mistress’, so she did not know any of the women who had arrived for the will’s reading, but she had heard a lot about them and was happy to share her not very charitable thoughts with the detective and Brenda. This led Brandy to analyse the late Melchior Murdock’s complicated family dynamics.


First, Brandy House looked at a woman in her late thirties, wearing a military uniform, who sat in the first row. The Major (she was wearing a golden leaf) was short, fit and surprisingly pretty despite her hardened look. Her short black hair enhanced her big, pale blue eyes, round nose and thin lips. Her uniform, consisting of dark green skirt and blazer, light-green shirt and black tie and shoes, could not hide her alluring curves.

Thanks to Helga’s outspoken nature, the detective knew that Major Mary Magdalene Murdock was the deceased’s eldest daughter. Her mother, Josephine, Mr Murdock’s second wife, had been explicitly banned from attending the event. The Major, however, had arrived after the museum’s alarm went off. Twenty minutes later, to be precise, which was a surprising coincidence. Thanks to the security footage, Brandy saw the Major descending from a military car. Her driver, however, had not been allowed to attend the will’s reading, at her superior’s instance, so the poor woman, a pretty brunette who wore a dark-green military uniform and her hair in a neat bun, had been ordered to wait outside, sitting in the car, so the Major could leave as soon as the gathering was over.

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Then, Brandy directed her attention to two young women who nervously sat in the back row, trying to use their phones with no success due to the frequency inhibitors installed by the late Melchior Murdock. Both women were in their twenties and both wore tennis outfits. The eldest, a slim blonde with a cute face full of freckles and brown eyes, wore a white shirt, black skirt and white trainers while the youngest, a curvy brunette with hazel eyes, had opted for a grey short tennis dress and pink trainers. Their inappropriate outfit (they were still wearing their tennis caps!) and attitude was clearly annoying the Major, who stared at them with unmitigated hatred because, despite not having seen each other in almost two decades, the two brats had not dignified to at least say hello to her aunt.

This extra piece of gossip had been courtesy of Helga Hoeness. The blonde curator had explained Brandy and Brenda, with gusto and a cheeky smile in her face, that the two brats were Hope and Micaela, Murdock’s granddaughters. They were the offspring of John and Michael, Mr Murdock’s sons from his first marriage, who both had passed away years ago. Obviously, Murdock’s first ex-wife, Vanessa, and his daughters-in-law, Samantha and Jenna, had also been forbidden to attend the will’s reading in accordance to the millionaire’s wishes. The two cousins were famous influencers and, in paper, they also worked as media managers in Murdock’s company. They loved to cash the checks extended by their grandad, but visiting him, not so much, Helga had confided to the detective and her friend.

The security camera footage had provided Brandy House with additional information though. The two brats had arrived the previous night, but they had stayed at the pool house, not the main building. The detective saw Hope and Micaela wearing skimpy bikinis in the security videos early in the morning. They had tried to go for a swim, but the pool was not clean. According to Helga Hoeness, from time to time a group of environmental activists did some kind of performance in the mansion or the museum to protest against Murdock’s oil business. A few months ago, two attractive young women, a blonde and a brunette, had taken off their shirts, showing their alluring breasts during a special exhibit at the museum, in order to make the world know how Murdock and other fossil-energy moguls were responsible for global warning and climate change. Just this week, someone had managed to break into the mansion, in order to toss a couple of buckets of fuel in the pool, before the security guards could do anything about it, which shows how inefficient the security camera system was.

Consequently, Hope and Micaela had changed their plans and the footage showed them later wearing their tennis outfits. They had started to play, without much vigour or talent, when they suddenly had started to run because the museum’s alarm went off. The cousins ran into one security guard who calmed them down. The two young women had not been near to the museum, but Brandy thought that their behaviour was surprising nonetheless. The brunette detective stared at the two cousins, who were still struggling to get signal for their phones, but her eyes soon drifted towards Hope’s toned legs and Micaela’s curvy thighs, because they both looked incredibly sexy wearing their tennis outfits. Brandy was rewarded with another enticing image, because she managed to get a glimpse of the blonde’s lacy white panties and of the curvy brunette’s lacy black panties. The detective exchanged a look and a smile with Brenda: Her friend was staring at the brats’ legs with undisguised lust as well.

There were other two women whose arrival had been a surprise for everyone: a tallish, comely brunette with pretty yet cold green eyes who wore her hair in a tidy bun and a slim blonde with brown eyes who wore a ponytail. The most remarkable thing was the outfit they were wearing though. The brunette, who was in her late-twenties, was dressed as a stewardess, her uniform consisting of a red skirt, matching blazer, a white shirt and a red, blue and white silk scarf. Her long legs were encased in black pantyhose and she was wearing black heels. The blonde was a few years younger, probably 21 or 22, and she was dressed as a cheerleader. She wore a purple and yellow short skirt and matching shirt with the logo of a midwestern university and white trainers.

Once again, Helga Hoeness provided Brandy and Brenda with the information and gossip they needed. The two women were Natalie Rimini and Autumn Andrews. The blonde curator had explained them that they were Mr. Murdock’ daughters, but no one knew about their existence until the law firm arranged for their trip. Both of them had arrived after the alarm went off though. Natalie, the brunette stewardess, was travelling from Pacific City in the same flight as Elizabeth Huckney, Murdock’s lawyer, because, coincidentally, it was part of her regular route, so their flight had been delayed because of the nasty incident with the escaped convict. The stewardess had arrived even later than the lawyer at the mansion because the law firm only arranged for one car to pick up both Natalie and Autumn, and they actually had to wait for the cheerleader for a while. Apparently, it took ages until her suitcase finally showed up in the belt.

The blonde curator had not spared details, happy to share her insights and opinions with the detective. According to her, when the Major found out that she had two younger half-sisters, she had a fit of rage. She had refused Natalie and Autumn to stay at house, that is why the women’s two suitcases, one of them enormous, had been left at the museum’s entrance.

Brandy scanned the two women with intent, trying to forget how sexy they looked wearing those uniforms, when a sudden bang stopped her train of thought. Mia Mackenzie, the head of security, had tripped with the cheerleader’s huge suitcase, and had awkwardly fallen to the floor. Mia had thrown a killing look at the owner of the ill-placed luggage, who looked very contrite while she mouthed a nervous ‘sorry’.

The head of security was a raven-haired beauty with pale blue eyes, a round nose and full lips in her late-twenties whose uniform consisted of a white shirt, a black skirt, and a black tie. Mia was not short, but she clearly wanted to look taller, so her black shoes had heels. She was also very fit, but the uniform could not hide her sensuous curves. Staring at her B-size round tits, Brandy House had realised that the head of security was not wearing a bra. The detective also had noticed a faint smell of vanilla, but, more evidently, she realised that Mia Mackenzie was not very happy to see them. She clearly thought that their presence at the museum was unnecessary and she felt judged by the detective since the moment Brandy and Brenda had arrived, especially when she had to confess to them that there was not security footage of the museum’s entrance and its surroundings when the alarm went off. The security team was not the paragon of professionalism.

Brandy heard Brenda giggling. Leaning towards her ear, the blonde softly said with a devilish grin: ‘I am sorry that you missed it, but when that bitch from security fell, I got a glimpse of her lingerie. She is wearing purple lacy panties underneath black pantyhose. Very sexy’.

Then, Brenda continued: ‘It is odd, I thought I had seen her before, watching the museum’s upper floor. Anyway, I have realised that this gifted brain of yours has not stopped working for the last few minutes. I know you already have a theory and a suspect!’ The blonde noticed that she had raised her voice too much, so she blushed when she saw that everyone was staring at the odd policewoman, who seemed to be enjoying the situation too much.

‘I do have a theory’, Brandy conceded. ‘But it is too early to be sure. I need to think a bit more and I need more facts, not speculations. I can tell you one thing: it was not the maid’, the detective finished, winking her eye at her friend.

‘Ok, miss cautious, if you do not want to share your thoughts, let me explain my theory to you. There were two criminals. They set an ambush in the road, waiting for the maids to arrive’, Brenda whispered, unable to hide her excitement.
‘So now there is more than one maid?’, Brandy asked, amused.
‘Yes, this place is huge, so you need at least two women to do the cleaning, but do not interrupt me when I am on fire. Hear this: the criminals pretended that their car broke down, so they could attack the maids by surprise when they stopped to help them. They stole their uniforms and drove to the mansion. The security guards at the gates did not suspect anything until it was too late: the fake maids jumped them, rendering unconscious with chloroform, and then the criminals changed their maids’ skimpy outfit, a short black dress, a white apron and black stockings, for the security guards’ uniform’, Brenda argued with enthusiasm.

Brandy thought about the two security guards who stood at the gate, a petite brunette with green eyes and a slim blonde with wavy hair and blue eyes who wore white shirts, black skirts, black ties and short-heeled black shoes, like their boss, Mia McKenzie. ‘I am sorry to tell you this, Brenda, but the two guards at the gate are not impostors. Did you notice the picture hanging in the wall of their office? It was taken five or six months ago, because the guards were all wearing winter jackets, and those two women were there’, the detective explained, trying not to sound patronizing.

Impressed, Brenda looked at the brunette detective with admiration and sensually whispered: ‘Come on, indulge me a little more. Imagine how sexy would be to walk to the bushes outside the mansion and to find the two real maids bound and gagged in their underwear. A voluptuous redhead with green eyes who wears her hair in a braid and a slim blonde with perky tits, tied back to back, with their hands resting on each other’s crotch, and gagged with bandanas. They are only wearing lacy underwear and stockings. Then, imagine the two real security guards, unconscious, hogtied and ball-gagged below that desk while the two criminals wear their uniforms, waiting for their next victims’.

Brandy House remained silent for a moment. Her brain started to paint a vivid picture which completed Brenda’s description. In the detective’s mind, the petite brunette was wearing a white thong underneath black pantyhose and a matching bra, while the slim blonde had opted for sky-blue lacy panties underneath light-brown pantyhose and matching bra. She could imagine the guards’ predicament with astonishing detail: At some point, they awoke from their induced slumber and started to wiggle, futilely trying to free from their bonds, and to moan through their gags… ‘You are incorrigible’ Brandy said, trying to focus on the case at hand, but unable to hide a smile. ‘Alluring as that situation would be, let’s stick to the facts’, the detective concluded.

‘What about her?’ Brenda said pointing to a third guard, a curvy Latina with curly black hair who was ready to close the museum’s door once everyone was ready for the will’s reading.
‘I am sorry to tell you that she was in the picture too. She is a real security guard, not the mysterious trespasser’, Brandy answered.

The detective loved how openly Brenda’s cute face reflected her utter disappointment, but she could not blame her. Brandy stared at the guard’s thighs and rotund tits, imagining her behind a tree, her hands and ankles ziptied, her mouth ball-gagged and her uniform gone, so she was wearing only a red thong underneath black pantyhose and matching lacy bra.

Brandy would have loved to continue her game with Brenda, but Elizabeth Huckney made a gesture, pointing to a cuckoo clock in the wall, which was about to strike four, in order to let everyone know that they were going to start the will’s reading. That is when the lights went off for the first time, leaving the room in complete darkness.

In matter of seconds, the lights came back, with a shocking reveal. One of the room’s wardrobe was now open and a sexy redhead, who wore her hair in a braid, was found unconscious inside it. She was bound and gagged with tape while only wearing lacy black panties, a matching bra and black stockings. It was the maid, Louise Mathewson.

Brandy closed her eyes for a second, remembering the security footage she had watched before with enormous detail thanks to her prodigious mind. The maid had appeared briefly at the mansion’s main door. She had been talking to Mia MacKenzie, the head of security, for a few minutes and then she had walked towards the back of the building, to the kitchen’s entrance, where there were no security cameras. This all happened a mere few minutes before the museum’s alarm went off and she did not appear in the footage again. ‘This is outlandish, but after discarding every other theory, the one remaining must the truth’, the detective thought, trying to regain her past confidence.

That is when the lights went off again, leaving the room in complete darkness for a second time. Brandy House remained as still as possible, trying to heighten her senses. This proved to be an impossible task, as many women had started to shout when the lights went out again, scared that they might end up bound and gagged like the maid. After a few seconds, the detective realised with surprise that Mia was standing next to them. The head of security guard was wearing an ear-piece, so she immediately ordered the guards who stood at the property’s main gate to check on the lights, trying to remain calm.

Suddenly, the brunette detective heard the unmistakable sound of broken glass and the voice of Major Murdock, shouting: ‘Do not dare to touch this!’. Brandy could hear how someone was fighting in the darkness and how Mia tried to tentatively walk towards them. Other women noticed that something was wrong and they started to shout even more, contributing to the growing confusion. The pandemonium only ended when the lights came back.

The ‘Blue Ruby’ was still there, but the glass which protected it was shattered. Next to it, Major Murdock sat on the floor. The military woman’s tousled hair and dishevelled clothes showed that she had been fighting someone who had tried to steal the Ruby. Who that was remained a mystery because no one else showed signs of a struggle. Major Murdock looked puzzled as well: ‘I grabbed the woman’s leg and threw her on the floor, I am sure’, she said, dumbfounded.

Staring at the rest of the women, the military woman started to shout: ‘Who of you did this? Who of you harpies tried to steal my father’s Ruby?’. Filled with anger, the Major did not realise that her skirt had hiked up her legs, revealing that she was wearing white cheeky panties underneath brown pantyhose. ‘Someone thinks that she is very smart, but I grew up here and I know that there are secret passages everywhere. That is why no one is going to leave the building until the police arrests the culprit’, the brunette military women said, pressing the button of a mysterious remote that she took out of the pocket of her dark-green blazer. Out of sudden, everyone heard the unmistakable noise of metal gates closing. Everyone was trapped in the building.

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This is exactly like the movie "Knives Out"

[Torreken]

That is the idea, to do a whodunit