So, I've been addicted to mysteries for awhile, even before Sherlock Holmes was announced (Though I'm still waiting to see it! >.<)

Anyways, I wanted to try my hand at mystery writing, so here it be. I'm going to try and give people a chance to solve the actual crime, and how it was done, before I post the result. This way someone might have some fun trying to figure it out. On to the writing.

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Prologue

It was March 18, 1994. David Brennan was driving to a friend's house during Spring Break. He was the average 16-year old Sophmore, maybe just hitting 6'2", and not so muscular. He had brown hair and eyes, and pale-ish skin, since the Winter chill had stopped only a few weeks before.
He was going to meet a friend from his French class, a Freshman named Nichole Harmon. Short for her age, tan skinned, and long black hair. With her was her boyfriend, Taylor Hickley, who was also Freshman, average height, pale and blonde.

Normally, David hated driving, but he was heading to Taylor's house for a reason, the reason being a challenge.
See, David had been addicte to Mysteries since the age of six, when his mother read him to sleep with a Sherlock Holmes short-story. Because of this, he thought himself a pretty decent gumshoe.
Nichole, on the other hand, was fascinated by the criminal's point of view, the feeling before murder, the tactics of robbery and thivery, the techniques of deception. She loved the books about them, which was something David noticed.
One day the two of them got talking, David said the problem with the books Nichole read were that the detectives were too stupid to catch the bad guy. Nichole countered by saying the criminals in the books David read were stupid themselves, which is why the detectives caught them. This led about to a challenge by Nichole, saying David couldn't solve anything if he tried, which David accepted.

He yawned when he finally pulled up in the driveway, and after pulling the keys out of the ignition he stepped out into the warm spring air. He climbed the stairs and knocked on the door. When he received no answer he rang the doorbell twice, this time he was greeted by Nichole.
"Hey, glad you could make it David, we just finished setting everything up. Bet you won't be able to solve it." She smiled, and David yawned once more.
"We'll see about that, lead the way." He stepped in and she closed the door behind him. Once he was inside he looked about. It was an ordinary house, nothing special too it. He could see the kitchen from where he stood, and from there into the dining room.
A set of stairs led up to the second floor, and to the right of those was a hallway, which led into the living room. The kitchen was tiled, and the dining room hardwood, but the rest was brown carpet.
The entire house was air conditioned, as it felt cool inside.

David was led into the living room, where he saw, for lack of better term, the crime scene. There was a couch in the middle of the room, which faced the TV in the corner.
On a small table next to the couch was a tray, which had a glass of water in it, the ice cubes were almost melted away. He could see what looked like a wet mark on the arm of the couch by the small table. Another glass was strewn across the room, sideways, with a wet trail leading up to it. The wet stain was odd, as surrounding the stain was a white substance, which had dried into the carpet.
Behind the couch in a space which was right before a hallway leading into the dining room was Taylor, lying stomach-down with his face towards them. On his neck was a blue bruise, and in his back was a knife, with little blood around the knife wound.

David looked impressed. "Wow, that looks real. Hey, Taylor, good acting, I can barely see you breathing." He chuckled, moving over to the body, kneeling down. "I'd almost believe it except I know you have a pul-" He had put his hand up against the side of his neck, and David didn't feel any pulse.
He kept his hand pressed there, in case he was mistaken, then he switched posistions, placing his fingers behind his ears. Again, nothing.
He heard a click from behind him, a clicking noise that came from the cocking of a gun. "It is real, David.. and now you're going to figure it out." It was Nichole, who had now circled around infront of David, and leaned against a wall. "Go on, Mister Detective.. Or you die."
Nichole's voice had changed, it no longer had an energy to it, no fun-loving twang. Now it sounded cold, dead almost, like the sound of an retired exocutioner.

David remained surprisingly calm, he knew he had to, or else he would just end up dead. He gulped, only once, then stood, looking over Nichole, she had a very tiny gun, one of those that only had one bullet loaded into them. Of course, that's all it would take.
He looked over the scene once more, trying to ignore the girl and the gun, and solve how the murder that took place.

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Wow, that felt like a lot to write.. Anyways, I'll finish the prologue after a week or so, give anyone who's intrested guessing time.

Tell me what you guys think!

Indeed, there will be. I'm just giving time for people who like to solve mysteries before the big reveal.

Glad someone likes it, though.

Alright, so, no one's really taken a gander at the crime it seems, so I'll just go ahead and post the ending.

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Prolouge, Solved

David looked about the room, his mind clicking the evidence into place until it made sense. He spoted the glass on the carpet, and the strange stain next to it. He moved over there, and knelt infront of it, sniffing it just to be sure.
He then proceeded to the tray on the table, taking a whiff the full glass of water, of which the ice had now fully melted. Once he was confident he returned to the body, looking down to it before turning to face Nichole, who had been watching him, the gun still raised.
"Well, David, have you got it?" She asked, in that dead voice. However, her voice didn't mimic her face, which had some sick smirk upon it. David took a breath, hardly believing any of this to be real, he was solving a murder, no less at gunpoint. He took one last look down at Taylor before returning his gaze to Nicole.

"Let's start with the knife. While it's the most obvious method of death, it's not the cause. The small amount of blood surrounding the wound shows that the body had already begun when you stabbed the knife into his back. Most likely he'd been dead for at least thirty minutes to an hour before the knife entered his back."
"Next, the bruise marks on his neck; indication of a strangling, which you did attempt, while he was dying. The only reason for doing so, I assume, is to throw me off, because he wouldn't of survived the bleach poisioning."
David gestured to the glass over on the floor, to which Nichole gave a glance. "So you did figure out about the bleach, but how did I know which glass to put it into?"
"You put them in both," David began, "Because you didn't know which one he would grab, that's why the other glass is still full. He only swallowed a little bit, I'd think, as he would've stopped because of the taste. Of course, he only needed that much. Which leads me to when he died. That was a clever trick, to be sure."
David moved to the glass which now contained which appeared to be only water, "The trick was preformed with the help of a few ice cubes and the air conditioning. Anyone who hadn't caught onto the bleach wouldn't have been able to time the death without extensive medical knowledge. The ice cubes that were in the glass when I came in had only been there for about ten minutes, since bleach melts ice very rapidly. This, combined with the air conditioning, would probably lead someone to think he'd been dead for about an hour and a half. Really he's only been dead for about forty, am I right? As I mentioned before with the knife, it would've taken the body a bit to shut down.
David shook his head. "You had about the ten minutes before I arrived to set yourself up by the window and wait for me to pull in. Once you saw, you ran to get some ice, put it in the glass, then greet me. Probably why you didn't answer my first knock."

The room went dead silent, and then Nichole seemed to smile, "Very good, David.." She very carefully uncocked the small gun, letting it fall to her side.
David glanced at the gun, then up to her. "What makes you think I won't try to get you now?" To which Nichole shrugged, "You could try, but you know you wouldn't get far before you were the same as Taylor there." David knew she was right, he most likely wouldn't get two feet before getting taken down.
"So.. who are you really, 'Nichole Harmon'?" David asked, his voice now having gone low. "I'm sure you must be orphaned.. and you must be a genius to have gotten yourself into a school without the help of an adult." David narrowed his eyes, seizing her up differently now.
Nichole shrugged, "You'd be right.. And I am a genius, quite officially, in fact.. Just like you, we're the same, you kno-"
"We're nothing alike! You worthless excuse for a human being! Don't you dare make that statement!" David had reached a point of rage at that comparison, "You just killed an innocent man! Before he even got to see the world, he was young, and you took his life without a feeling! Don't you ever say we're the same!"
Nichole looked shocked at this, the over-confident face disappearing. She regained herself, snapping back. "I suppose I should've expected that from a bleeding heart like yourself." She moved back, into the kitchen, nearing the back door.
"Answer me this, whoever you are.. why? Why would you kill someone, because of some game?" David asked, to which Nichole responded by grabbing the doorknob. "I've killed before, not human.. he's the first. I enjoied it.. insects, small animals.. pets.. I wanted to see if I could pull it off with no one figuring it out.." The sick smirk reappeared. "I guess I need more practice.. follow me and I'll kill you." SHe stepped out the back door and ran, disappearing off into some woods.

Twenty minutes later the police were on the scene, David had called them. He explained to them how the crime was commited, and gave them the reason why he couldn't have killed Taylor, which did indeed check out. David also told them the only place they would likely find fingerprints is on the back door, since he saw she touched it without any protection. A sketch artist also took details from David, making a close copy to the woman's likeness.
That night, once David was home and in bed, he began to cry. All the stress he felt that afternoon was released. No matter how many myster novels he had read, that was still real, and he realised it. The fact he solved the crime gave him little comfort. The woman who posed as Nichole Harmon was bound to kill more.

The fingerprint came up with no matches. The search for the murderer turned up nothing, she had escaped.

End of Prologue

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So that was it. There's going to be a few more cases, though I've got an ending in mind.

Until then, tell me what you guys think.

Alright, here goes again.

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10 years later...

David Brennan was now 26, had gone through college, and had pursued his dream of becoming an actual Detective. Albeit, he was new, and had little experience, and didn't get any cases until the morning of April 9, 2004.
He was to go meet an officer at the scene of an accidental death. Really, all David was to do was document the case, the body, and ask around. It was something any officer could do, but he figured it was better than sitting around all day, again.

When he arrived at the scene, the back entrence to an apartment complex, he saw the body. It was laying to the left of the walk to the door, in the grass. He looked up to see that the building went up for five stories, and was three apartments across.
The officer who was waiting for him was John Reed, a young, slim man about the age of 22 with green eyes and brown hair. He was also rather new on the job, and obviously wasn't used to being around bodies, as his nervousness showed. David walked up to greet him, but before he could get a 'hello' out, he was saluted and met with, "Uh, er, Detective Brennan, sir." To which David responded by blinking for a second then saying, "What are you doing? I'm just as green as you are.." John slowly raised his hand and nodded. "Uh.. hello?" David smiled and held his hand out, "Better." After they shook they moved to the body.

"Poor soul's name is Steve Hort, he was found this morning by the Landlord, around half-past Five. He lived on the fourth floor, you can see his balcony there, he had the left-most room. He'd just come back from vacation, too." John pointed up and David nodded, then knelt to inspect the body. "He was found here? No one sent in a complaint about noise?" John shook his head, "No, it was the Landlord's usual round.. why?"
David mused over the body, "Isn't it odd? Wouldn't you scream if you fell from that far up? And how do we not know it was suicide?" John oppened a small notepad, "Because the Landlord found a broken wine glass on his balcony, the wine had dried up. Supposedly he died around One this morning." David nodded, then noticed something strange. He sniffed a bit more, then knelt down to his mouth. Once he did he immediatly stood, "That's chloroform.."
John blinked a bit, "Isn't that the stuff that knocks people out?" David nodded and looked up, "Another strange thing.. if he had fallen he wouldn't have been able to control his movements.. He'd probably have more broken bones.. I'm starting to think this wasn't accidental. Come on." John looked to the corpse, then nodded, glad to get away from it. "We'll be back soon, right?" David entered through the back, "Soon enough.. where's the Landlord's office?" John pointed down a left hallway, "Down there."

After receiving infromation about the tennants, they both went to the fourth floor. "Only three people live in this building.. Something about the newly built, cheaper apartments they built a few blocks from here." They reached the fourth floor, then entered the deceased's room, then out to the balcony. "Looks like he cleaned up the mess already." He looked over the edge, down to the body. "Hmm.. metal railing.." He looked along the railing, then followed it along the left edge, towards the wall. "What's this?" He rubbed his finger along an edge where it had been scraped recently. "Hey, John, can I borrow your notebook?" He took the offered book and began writing in it. "I'll keep it for now." He placed it in his pocket then moved up towards the fifth floor.

"There are two people on this floor. Some rich kid who hardly leaves and a woman." He knocked on the door of the middle apartment a few times before a lanky 19 year old answered in pajamas. "What, dude? You're costing me headshots.." David blinked before John said "XBox." To which David responded with "Ah, right... well, you are Dalton Wessel, right?" He nodded, "You here about the dead guy? Look, I didn't even hear him fall, dude, and I was up all lastnight. All I know is the last few nights, around Twelve, I've been hearing weird clinking noises, okay?.. That all you want?" David wrote the details down in John's notebook before nodding. The kid closed the door and they moved on.

They rang the bell on the apratment to their right, and a middle-aged woman answered. She was fit and toned, and she looked as if she'd just been exercising. Despite this, she looked groomed and manicured. "Oh, you're here about the dead man, right? Come in, come in." She let them in and led them to the living room. She turned off her treadmill before taking a seat on the couch. "What do you need to know?" David flipped through the notebook and then asked, "You are Kelly Novak, right?" SHe nodded, "I see, then can you tell me anything you know?" Before she answered David saw something in the corner that caught his eye; a climber's pack. He could see the various hooks and some rope sticking out. It stood out because there wasn't any place she could climb for miles, and a gym supplies the gear. "Well, he came back from his trip last week.. that's about all I know about him." David nodded before handing the pen and pad to John, and patting him on the back. "I'm sorry to cause trouble, ma'am, but do you have a bathroom?" She nodded and pointed down the hall, "Thank you so much, John will take it from here."

When David was in the bathroom he locked the door. He looked about for a cabinet, then opened it, shuffling it about. "Hmm.. no nail polish remover.. Odd..." He looked down to the trash can, then put on a glove before continuing. He then reached in, and found what he was looking for, two, actually. Two empty bottles of polish remover, "Hmm.. and if I'm right.." He dropped the bottles back into the trash before checking under the sink. "A quarter empty bottle of bleach.. I see.." He took off the glove, pocketing it, then returning to the living room.

John had been asking a few trivial questions when David walked back in. "THank you again, Miss Novak. I'll be on my way after one more question, where do you work? Just a formality." She nodded, "No harm done, I work at a chemical production company, I'm one of the chemists." David nodded once more. "Thank you, goodbye." He motioned John towards the door and they both exited.

"What was all that about? There was a bathroom downstairs.." John said, feeling a little foolish with the questions. "Good job on stalling her.. let me see the notebook." John handed it to him, and then David wrote a few things down. By the time he was done it looked like this.

Body landed unusually
Smell of chloroform
Scrapped railing
Noises around Twelve
Very fit
Climbing equipment
Two empty bottles of nail polish remover
Quarter empty bleach bottle

"So, David, going to answer me?" John asked. David rubbed his chin, "I think we have our killer.."

End of Investigation

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That was a lot to type.

This way is way, way easier than the first one. As always I'll wait for people to try and solve it if they wish.