While I was at university, I read a short story by the brilliantly troubled Edgar Allen Poe. The piece was called The Murders in the Rue Morgue, and is seen by many as the forerunner to the modern detective story. Anyway, it’s a beautifully detailed and atmospheric piece of writing, and as I read it I tried to put together all the clues to figure out whodunnit. I didn’t really have a chance; if you read it, you’ll see why.
Anyway, feeling a little hard done by, I wrote this short a few weeks later because I thought it was important that someone heard the defendant’s side of the story.
It’s a wee bit gory.