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MRS.CLARK’S DEATH

MRS.CLARK’S DEATH
My name is Alan Smith and I am the great-great-grandson of the United Kingdom’s prime minister and private detective named Harry Smith. I am a twenty six years old man and I work by Scotland Yard as a police inspector. I have a wife called Nicole and two child: one boy and one girl. Their names are Andrew and Cassandra. I was borned in London on December the 31st, 2001. My parents are scottish and they are named George and Lilybeth.
I am tall and thin. I have a brown courly hair and a brown eyes too. Under my nose I have a moustache and under my chin, I have a bit of beard. I am a shy person but I have five friends. Four brothers: two of them are famous and they are named Viktor and Anne who were borned in Germany and their surname is Leichter. Viktor is a writer and Anne is a thief who robbed three million of pounds in a bank near Edinbourgh. The other two aren’t famous but one of them helps me to investigate some cases. His name is Peter Stone and he has a beautiful sister named Amanda.
The last friend that I have is the lieutenant John Morrison. He lives with his wife in Cardiff and he has four child with the first wife that he had. His children life nowadays in Barcelona with their mum.
That night I was in my living room reading the newspaper when John phoned me to tell me something very important. “Alan, I want to say you some news… Mrs.Clark was killed by someone yesterday and I need help to investigate the murder. Can you help me and come to Cardiff?” he asked me very nervous.
I didn’t answer but when I hanged up the phone, I prepared my suitcase and I kissed Nicole to say goodbye. I went out of our home and got into my white Smart car to go to the capital of Wales and help my friend.
When I arrived it was Monday. I went to the hotel and I checked in. I upstairs and I opened the door of my room. I put my clothes inside the cupboard and when I finished, I went out going to the police station to talk with John Morrison.
He saw and offered me a cup of coffee. While he was preparing the drink, he began to tell me all the success. “Our comrades are asking some questions to Mr.Clark while the commissary was investigating the family of the victim. We think that she had something with someone but we don’t know what, who and why!” he told me. “What do you think?” he asked me with a little fear.
“I think the same. But I affirm that the killer is not one member of her family like her sister, brother, parents or husband… I think is her lover or someone who works with her!” I answered.
“At the moment we know that she don’t has a lover!” he said me. “We know that she has a lot of enemies but no lovers or something like that!” he declare very irritated.
The commissary came on to talk with us. He explained that the victim was poisoned with cyanide in her meal. He told us too that she was a drug addict and she was kidnaped some months before her death because the kidnapper wanted her debt with him.
I asked the name of the kidnapper and he told us that he was in jail nowadays. He gave us the address of the jail to go to the prison on the next morning. We went to the restaurant to eat something and after that, I came to the hotel to sleep.
The following day I waked up and I breakfast two eggs, three sausages and a bit of rice too. When I finished my breakfast my father phoned me to say that Nicole was arrested by the police because she was suspected to help my friend Anne Leichter with the robber of one jeweller’s.
I hanged up very unhappy while I went with my car to catch and bring the lieutenant Morrison to the prison with me.
We arrived and we had to show our badges to the guard to come in. I parked the car and we asked for our odd named Quentin Redhorse. He was in the cell number 38 and we went to visited him.
Another guard opened the door and we came on. When we were inside with Mr.Redhorse, the guard close the cell and we began to talk with him. He was very arrogant and he told us something very important. Morrison writted the information and we went out of the jail.
“So, her parents wanted to kill their daughter because of her addiction. Isn’t it?” I asked very happy because of the news.
“Exactly my dear Smith but you don’t have the proves!” he declare. “We only have the conversation with Quentin but I think that the judge will decide to declare nullity this prove!” he said.
Only we have to talk with her parents and ask some questions to her husband again.
When we arrived at police station, the commissary told us some more news which didn’t help us with the case and forced us to begin again with that very complicated case.
That evening the lieutenant phoned me to say that her father told him the truth and Scotland Yard arrested him. I went out of the hotel and when I arrived at police station the commissary explained me that while John Morrison was taking care of him, someone killed the victim’s father, mother and husband.
John Morrison discovered a knive into the cell and the scientific police discovered two guns too with the fingerprints of her principal enemy. She was named Noah Anderson and she lives in America with her family.
Noah Anderson was the president of United States and the most important member of the Republican Party of States.
They phoned her to explain that they wanted to talked with her in London that weekend. She answered positively and on Thursday morning they organised the police operation to arrest Noah.
On Sunday, when Mrs.Anderson came to talk with them, Scotland Yard arrested her and I could ask some questions. She told the truth and explained us that Mrs.Clark wanted to be the new president of the party and occupy her charge to become the Prime Minister of United States. Anderson didn’t want this and ordered to Quentin and the victim’s father to kidnap and kill Mrs.Clark.
The judge decided to close her in an american jail and Noah Anderson resigned from her electoral charge.
I went to my house when I say goodbye to my friend John Morrison. My wife was talking with my father George after her freeing. She wasn’t the accomplice of my friend Anne Leichter and I kissed her to celebrate the zillionth victory.
Nine months later, on December the 27th, our third son was borned. He was named Alex Smith.

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L’Àrtac Busquets, era un adolescent de setze anys (22-12-2000) que tenia els ulls de color castany foscs igual que els seus cabells a rínxols, alt i fort però prim, que estudiava primer de batxillerat a Barcelona i vivia amb el seu pare Jordoan Busquets perquè sa mare havia mort en un accident de moto feia uns quants anys. Sortia amb la filla del president de Catalunya Rosa Maria Lopetgui que tenia més o menys la seva edat i anava a la seva mateixa classe. Tenia una germana més gran que la coneixien com a Annadrí “la que ho resol tot”, perquè investigava tot tipus de casos. Aquell dia, na Rosa i sa germana, havien quedat per anar a prendre un gelat amb els seus xicots, però no va poder ser al final, perquè li havia sorgit un imprevist que havia de resoldre urgentment. El crim havia succeït a la casa “Puig i Carafall”. El senyor Puig, havia estat assassinat unes hores abans que arribés n’Annadrí, amb el seu cotxe, en una batalla per avarícia i per diners. Romeu Puig, fou un fam