4

Tom sent Leila a last-minute text from the bustling streets of New York, on his way to a job interview. She replied with a quick message of luck, but conveniently left out any mention of her adventures. Leila couldn’t deny it any longer - her daydreaming version of events simply didn’t add up. The truth was staring her in the face like a dead body in a drawing room. And as she pondered how to break the news to Tom, she couldn’t help but think that sometimes ignorance is a bliss.

But of course, as fate would have it, Wolfie had to ruin that little bubble of denial. When Leila walked the fluffy pooch up to the unlocked door, she suddenly turned into Cujo and let out an intimidating growl. Where was that aggression earlier? Must’ve slept through that bloody murder like a lazy bum.

As Leila opened the door, she couldn’t ignore the trail of destruction outside. Someone had made quite the spectacle trying to ski after a blizzard - leaving behind blue potholes and scars for fifty meters. And then they must’ve slipped and stumbled their way back, cursing up a storm and dropping their gear along the way.

But all these distractions couldn’t keep Leila from noticing the real problem: a trail leading towards the hedge, as if something heavy had been dragged along it. A corpse, perhaps?

Leila couldn’t help but mock herself for her sorry character that kept venturing her into more trouble. Instead of cozying up by the fireplace and enjoying her hot cocoa, she managed to discover a dead body. And instead of frolicking through the snow with a handsome ski instructor, she was following murderer footprints..

And just when she thought things couldn’t get any worse, there were two sets of keys to consider. Christina had one at the hospital, while Leila had the spare hidden under the house. And it seemed someone else had used those keys to enter Christina's chalet and commit a stupid murder.

So many questions, so few clues - like how did they get in and why choose such a sloppy way to kill?

Leila’s new version of events were supported by the small notebook she stumbled upon earlier . That was a reality check, an undeniable proof that indeed, a dead body lay in the drawing room of Christina’s chalet. And it was no accident - someone had intentionally entered that room and ended up meeting their untimely demise while Leila was away shopping. But who? And why to chose such a bizarre way to kill someone? The body had been dragged through fresh snow and Wolfie, that cunning dog, must have seen something but kept her muzzle shut.

Leila sat down on a dark oak chair gathering her thoughts. The answer to the first question was straightforward - there were two sets of keys. One with Christina, currently recovering in the hospital, and the other hidden beneath the house, entrusted to Leila by Gerard. The morning of the murder, Leila locked up the door with her own key before heading to town. Yet somehow, someone had managed to get their hands on copies of those keys. Someone who knew where to look!

As Leila slowly got up and circled the chalet, she couldn’t shake off the feeling of being watched. And then she spotted it - a gap in the pine branches providing a clear view of an open window high up in one of the neighboring chalets. Unoccupied but not forgotten, this chalet could have been used as an ideal vantage point for spying on Gerard.

Determined to find answers, Leila took Wolfie for a stroll outside. The leash was a foreign concept to the pup but she obediently followed along as they ventured out into the closed slopes.

‘Wolfie, behave yourself,’ Leila pleaded with the dog as she tried to guide Wolfie through the snow. ‘Remember, you are an educated dog of a math professor. You must exude grace and dignity at all times. No chasing after cats, cyclists, squirrels or any other unfortunate creatures. And lay off the treats, you’re getting fat.’

‘You should take your own advice,’ Wolfie growled back.

‘Touché,’ Leila sighed as Wolfie licked her hand in apology. They continued their trek up the mountain, approaching an old abandoned chalet. Its decaying state was in stark contrast to the well-maintained place belonging to Christina’s family. But despite its neglected appearance, something about this abandoned place drew Leila in.

The single-story building had an attic and a square roof turret with that suspiciously open window. The dark blue paint was cracked and faded, the slate roof leaked, and there were more holes than glass in the windows. The wrought iron gate was barely standing, and the garden was overgrown with prickly bushes. As they stood alone on the snowy street, Leila felt an opportunity had presented itself that she simply can't afford to miss.

Without hesitation, she led Wolfie through the garden and onto the creaky porch. She knocked on the door out of politeness but didn’t expect anyone to answer. When no one did, she took it upon herself to push open the unlocked door.

Leila stepped into the dusty hallway and looked around at the eerie interior. Her attention was drawn to a locked drawing room, sparking her curiosity. With newfound determination, she pulled out her jimmie and successfully picked the lock - feeling like an unsavory character from one of those N*****x spy shows.

Inside, Leila found an uninhabited space with a dusty sofa and an empty ashtray. It smelt of mould and stale cigarette smoke. But what caught her eye were two canvas weekend bags sitting in the middle of the room. They seemed out of place, making her to wonder who would be staying here.

The contents of the bags only deepened the mystery. Toothbrushes, clean cotton shirts, a red silk tie - all indicative of a business trip. But what stood out was the stack of foreign paperbacks and the large amount of Euros in the second bag. Leila’s interest was further piqued when she discovered a man’s gold watch and a small pepper spray tucked away inside the zipped pocket. It was clear enough that the old chalet was being used by someone, but for what purpose? And why did they need a pepper spray?

Wolfie took a whiff of the contents, but didn’t feel like snacking on any of it. They both settled onto the grimy floor and tuned in to their surroundings. All seemed quiet, but Leila didn’t want to overstay her welcome. She inspected the watch - an elaborate monogram GSW etched into its 18K gold casing with a warm hue and hints of red. The dial was plain white with no brand name to speak of. Leila couldn’t help but wonder if this watch was hot merchandise by any chance. Perhaps even the pepper spray belonged to some lowlife thug who couldn’t afford a proper firearm. But that was absurd - proper murderers don’t bother with trinkets like this. And besides, real tough guys wouldn’t stoop to pilfering hip flasks and fancy watches. No, there was something else at play here. The sudden rush of cold sweat made her jump up. Leila closed the door behind her as she left, Wolfie growling uneasily. Suddenly, the hairs on the back of dog’s neck stood up. “What’s got into you, Wolfie?” Leila whispered in shaky voice, but quickly composed herself. She had a plan to stick to - find the window that overlooked Gerard’s hiding spot and get out of there before anyone noticed. Luckily, the staircase leading to the tower was located near the drawing room. Leila cautiously climbed the rickety steps, Wolfie hesitantly following behind. Finally reaching the top of the tower, they found a small room filled with dusty furniture and old newspapers stacked everywhere, barely leaving enough space for them to stand. And bingo! Through the open window, Leila could see Christina’s garden and the secret place where Gerard stashed his spare keys - clearly not so secret anymore. “Dammit,” Leila muttered under her breath as she realized what had happened - someone had taken Gerard’s keys and made copies while he was walking the dog. And as Leila took a closer look around the room, she noticed something strange - there wasn’t as much dust there as one would expect. In fact, the windowsill was practically clean. “Someone’s been here recently,” Leila thought to herself, mimicking the posture of whoever had stood at the window and looked out at Christina’s garden. Wolfie’s persistent growling reminded her that it was time to go, but Leila couldn’t resist taking a good look around before leaving.

She peered out the window once more, her eyes scanning Christina’s distant chalet. It was a blur in the foggy night, but not for our mystery murderers. They probably had a pair of binoculars, which would provide the perfect view of their target - or rather, Christina’s "secret" hiding spot.

As Leila examined the window, she felt something sharp graze her elbow. A shard of glass protruded from the decaying frame, and a mustard-colored longish thread of wool was flapping in the wind. A chill ran down her spine as she realized this was no accidental discovery; someone had left this thread here while watching her aunt’s garden.

But before Leila could investigate further, Wolfie growled at the shadow on the wall. Leila suddenly felt it was time to leave the creepy place. As they descended the creaky stairs into the hallway, she planned to explore the remaining rooms downstairs. But Wolfie had other ideas, dragging Leila towards the front door with all her strength.