Quick Tales

Detective Amelia Hartley gazed at the latest riddle left by the serial killer known as "The Puzzler." It was scrawled in blood on a mirror in the victim's bedroom:

*When I speak, you hear my voice, but when I write, you see my choice. What am I?*

Amelia sighed, running her fingers through her short, curly hair. She had been chasing The Puzzler for months, and each crime scene was a new puzzle to solve. The victims were all young women, their bodies found in elaborately staged tableaus, each one accompanied by a riddle.

The first victim had been found in an abandoned theater, the riddle written on a playbill: *I am taken from a mine and shut up in a wooden case, from which I am never released, and yet I am used by almost every person. What am I?* The answer was "pencil," but it hadn't helped Amelia catch the killer.

The second victim had been found in a library, the riddle written on a bookmark: *What has many keys, but opens no locks?* The answer was "a piano," but again, no leads on the killer.

Amelia turned to her partner, Detective Thomas Lee. "Any ideas?" she asked, handing him the photograph of the latest riddle.

Thomas took the photo and studied it. "It's a mirror," he said after a moment. "When you speak, you hear your voice reflected back at you, but when you write on a mirror, you see your choice of words."

Amelia nodded. "That makes sense. But how does that help us find the killer?"

Thomas shrugged. "I don't know, Amelia. This guy is smart. He leaves no evidence behind except for these riddles. It's like he wants to be caught, but not too badly."

Amelia looked around the crime scene, her eyes landing on a small, framed photograph of the victim with a group of friends. She picked it up and examined it closely. "Look at this," she said, holding the photo out for Thomas to see. "The victim is here, but so are these other people. Maybe one of them knows something."

Thomas took the photo and nodded. "Good eye, Amelia. Let's find out who these people are."

The next day, Amelia and Thomas visited the university where the victim had been a student. They showed the photograph to several professors and students, but no one seemed to recognize any of the people in it. Just as they were about to give up, a young woman named Lily approached them.

"I know her," she said, pointing at the victim in the photo. "Her name was Emma. We were friends."

Amelia and Thomas exchanged glances before turning back to Lily. "Do you recognize anyone else in the photo?" Amelia asked.

Lily studied the photo for a moment before nodding. "Yes, that's Jake," she said, pointing at a man standing next to Emma. "He was her boyfriend."

Amelia and Thomas thanked Lily and made their way to Jake's apartment. They found him packing a suitcase, his face pale and drawn.

"Where are you going?" Amelia asked as they entered the apartment.

Jake looked up at them, his eyes filled with fear. "I-I don't know," he stammered. "I just can't stay here anymore."

Thomas stepped forward and showed Jake the photo of Emma and her friends. "Do you recognize any of these people?" he asked.

Jake nodded. "Yes, that's Emma, and that's Lily, and that's...oh God, that's him." He pointed at a man standing on the far right of the photo.

Amelia felt a jolt of adrenaline. "Who is he?" she asked.

"His name is Samuel," Jake said, his voice barely above a whisper. "He was...he was obsessed with Emma. He would leave her riddles and puzzles all the time. She thought it was cute at first, but then it started to get creepy."

Amelia exchanged a look with Thomas before turning back to Jake. "Do you know where we can find Samuel?" she asked.

Jake shook his head. "I don't know. I haven't seen him since Emma broke up with him. But I do know that he lives in an old house on the outskirts of town."

Amelia and Thomas thanked Jake and made their way to Samuel's house. It was a large, Victorian-style mansion, surrounded by overgrown trees and bushes. The front door creaked open as they approached, revealing a dark and empty hallway.

Inside, the house was filled with an eerie silence. Amelia and Thomas made their way through the rooms, their footsteps echoing on the wooden floors. They found Samuel in the library, surrounded by stacks of books and newspapers. He was sitting at a desk, a pen in his hand as he wrote something down.

As they entered the room, Samuel looked up and smiled at them. "Ah, Detectives," he said. "I've been expecting you."

Amelia stepped forward, her hand on her gun. "Samuel, we need to talk about Emma," she said.

Samuel put down his pen and stood up. "Emma was a beautiful woman," he said. "But she didn't appreciate my gifts. She didn't understand the riddles I left for her."

Thomas took a step closer to Samuel. "The riddles you left at the crime scenes?" he asked.

Samuel nodded. "Yes, those were for Emma. But she never solved them. So I had to find someone who could."

Amelia felt a chill run down her spine. "And that's why you killed all those women," she said. "Because they couldn't solve your riddles either?"

Samuel smiled. "Exactly, Detective. But now, I have a new riddle for you." He held up a piece of paper and read aloud:

*I speak without a mouth and hear without ears. I have no body, but I come alive with the wind. What am I?*

Amelia and Thomas exchanged glances before turning back to Samuel. "That's an easy one," Amelia said. "The answer is 'echo.' But that doesn't explain why you killed those women."

Samuel shook his head. "No, Detective, the answer is not 'echo.' The answer is 'wind.' Because wind speaks without a mouth and hears without ears. And it comes alive with the wind." He smiled again, a chilling smile that sent shivers down Amelia's spine.

Thomas stepped forward, his hand on his gun. "Samuel, you're under arrest for the murder of Emma and the other women," he said.

But before Thomas could finish speaking, Samuel lunged at him, a knife appearing in his hand. Amelia reacted quickly, drawing her own gun and firing a shot that hit Samuel in the shoulder. He fell to the ground, the knife clattering to the floor beside him.

Amelia rushed to Thomas's side, helping him up as he clutched at his bleeding arm. "Are you okay?" she asked, her voice filled with concern.

Thomas nodded. "I'll be fine," he said. "But we need to get Samuel to the hospital."

As they waited for the ambulance to arrive, Amelia looked around the library, her eyes landing on a stack of books on a nearby table. She picked up one of them and opened it to the first page. Written there in neat, precise handwriting was another riddle:

*What gets wetter the more it dries?*

Amelia smiled as she put the book down. She had caught The Puzzler, but she knew that there would be many more puzzles to solve in the future. And she was ready for whatever came next.