In January we had a writing contest based off a scene we had set up in the library. The objective was for participants to write a short story of what they thought happened that the scene was set up like it was. Our teen contest winner was Kara M. with her story as follows called, A Conspiracy at Doge’s Palace. To read the other winners’ stories head over to our Adult and Kids’ Blog pages as well. Congratulations to all our winners and enjoy the stories.
A Conspiracy at Doge’s Palace by Kara M.
A page rushed to Charles Evans. The meticulously kept man moved his sleeve to glance at the silver watch which laid upon his arm. The page handed an envelope into Mr. Evans hands.
“A masquerade ball at the grounds of Doge’s Palace,” announced the servants at Mr. Evans manor. “And the master is invited.” The evening of the ball arrived with lights and stars sprinkled amidst the entryway. Only one gorgeous couple, Mr. and Mrs. Adam Smith, were invited besides Mr. Evans, and the Italian man. Mr. Evans strolled into the lavish grounds, then hurried toward the retreating figure of the Italian man. “Sir,” he begged. The large man turned to face him. “I am in need of a bodyguard tonight.”
“And why would you need a bodyguard, sir?”
“I am in need of protection,” Mr. Evans rambled. “I will fix you with a great sum for your efforts.” At this moment, Mrs. Anna Smith stared in their direction. The men parted in silence. When dinner was served, Mr. Evans reached for his wine. As he drank, his face blanched. “Is the wine bad sir?” asked the Italian man. “Fine.” Mr. Evens replied. Then dessert was passed. The servant fumbled with the cakes and slipped one onto Mr. Evans plate. Funny taste, he mused. The four guests were invited to stay at Doge’s Palace, so Charles Evans retired early to bed.
Pounding sounds resounded at De Salvo’s chambers. As he rushed to the door, a white faced servant flew in. “Mr. Evans,” the servant shook “he is dead.” It was 6:30 a.m. “Who was the culprit? inquired De Salvo. “There is no culprit to speak of.” De Salvo rushed to the dead man’s room. Suddenly, a glint of silver caught his eye. De Salvo removed the watch from his wrist. A small piece of napkin slipped onto the floor. Putting the piece of napkin in his pocket, he left the room.
De Salvo hurried to Mr. Smith’s bedroom. “Mr. Smith, a word with you.” Mr. Smith opened the door with a harsh expression. “Mr. Smith, I have come with news of murder. I am De Salvo. I understand you are Dwight D. Morrow Jr.” The man attempted to shadow the paleness creeping on his face. His wife made no comment. “Have you heard about the Lindberg case?” The man fidgeted, “I have. Horrible business. I should have killed him myself, had I the chance.”
The mistress of the house was called. “Miss Stephanie Evans,” began De Salvo, “Have you heard of the Lindberg case? Are you distressed at the news of your nephew?” She blanched and answered, “A terrible case.” De Salvo requested a servant to show him the table. He observed several items of value. A woman’s brooch, keys, a wine glass, and napkin lay on the floor. In a rush, De Salvo’s mind finished the answer. He asked for the guests to join him in the grand room. “Certainly, we all know the specifics of the Lindberg case. In regards to the murder, I have discovered the solution. Dwight D. Morrow, are you not the brother of Anne Lindberg? The man murdered, Bruno Richard Hauptmann is the instigator behind the Lindberg case. Lastly, Mr. Morrow, have you poisoned Mr. Hauptmann? And Miss Stephanie Evans, the baroness of Doge’s palace, have you also attempted to poison Mr. Hauptmann? And now for the evidence. The tiny piece of napkin was extracted out of the pocket of Mr. De Salvo. It read, “A masquerade this ball will be until we find your face. And this time, there is no escape for the time runs much too late. A conspiracy this will be here in Doge’s palace.”