Murder Mystery Story

It was a cold and gloomy Friday evening. The clouds were a deep shade of grey and the sky looked like it was about to release a bucket load of rain. “Bbbbbring Bbbbbring,” the phone rang as Zoe waited with her growly stomach. She looked out the window of her house as the rain began to spit. “Oh how I love Melbourne weather,” Zoe thought to herself.

“Hello and welcome to Barry’s Pizza. How may I help you?” said the man on the telephone. “Hi, may I please order one medium; no make that a large, pepperoni pizza.” The man on the telephone cleared his throat, “Sure, that will be ready for pick-up in fifteen minutes.” Zoe hung up the phone and grabbed her khaki trench coat, her iPod and headphones, her keys and her purse. She slammed her front door behind her and started her walk to the pizza shop…

The street was dark and quiet. Zoe looked at the houses and realised that she couldn’t see any lights on in any of them. She continued to let her legs and stomach guide her directions. She had walked to the local pizza shop many times before. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw one light of an apartment shining through the navy blue curtains of the window. “Click clack, click clack,” Zoe thought she heard footsteps. Whoosh! Zoe turned around and no one was there. “Zoe, you’re being paranoid. Why would anyone be following you?” she thought to herself as she turned the volume on her iPod up. She had an eerie feeling about those footsteps from before. Something wasn’t right. She smelt a strong French perfume that intoxicated the air.

Zoe turned into the main shopping strip. “Thank gosh there are finally people around. And this street has lights!” Zoe thought to herself. She stumbled over a crack in the ground but continued walking, a bit embarrassed. “Excuse me miss, I think you dropped this,” said a woman’s voice with quite a strong French accent. “Huh? I didn’t realise there was anyone behind me…” She turned around to see a thin French woman with a fluffy beret