Clue: A Uniform-Stealing Mystery. Part I. Suspects and Surprises
Posted: Sun Jul 19, 2026 5:24 pm
‘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.
‘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.