A number of couples were dancing to the symphonic music while the others were busy drinking cocktails and chatting with each other. Around the vast banquet hall were put thousands of white roses. Such a white colour that it seemed like the purest and clearest thing in the world, and nothing could pollute it. The blooming flowers spread their fragrance far and wide. But Sergeant Timberlake trembled at once when he smelt it. He hated this smell.
“These white roses are so petty, aren’t they?” said Margaret Woolley, the daughter of George Woolley, the richest person in the city.
Timberlake looked at her. Jewels were twinkling around her. She was young and fashionable but terribly annoying.
“My mum loves white roses very much. She says that white roses are pure and unblemished but pretty gorgeous at the same time. But that doesn’t mean they are weak as they have thorns to protect themselves. She calls this ‘fatal beauty’.” She laughed but stopped suddenly, and whispered near his ears in a cool, chilly tone, “But I think what she really means is that the most beautiful things are also the most dangerous things in the world. Sometimes, maybe you are approaching death without knowing that.”
Timberlake stared at her in amusement.
“But death is none of my business. That’s the problem of old men, like Dad. Compared to his death, I am more interested in how much money I can get at that time. You know, I am a realist.”
She shrugged her shoulders. Then she turned around and flew across the dance floor again like a butterfly.
Timberlake sighed. Although he was sent to the Woolley’s house to protect the Woolley family during the party, he did not think they would get any harm. Based on the above conversation, he would rather worry about whether there was any person injured by the Woolleys, than the safety of the Woolleys themselves.
“I am sorry, Sir. Did my daughter disturb you?” Mrs. Woolley came to greet Timberlake.
“No, of course not.”
Mrs. Woolley was an elegant British woman. Her golden wavy hair was worn in a bun. She was petite and looked delicate. Like the white roses, she looked pure and artless. She seemed to need protection all the time.
“I heard that you’re the one who planted all the white roses to decorate the house tonight. They’re really beautiful,” said Timberlake. “My wife loves roses also but she just doesn’t know how to, well, deal with them!”
“It’s quite difficult to plant them in the British climate,” she smiled. “But let me remind you one thing. Although the roses won’t stay fresh all the time, you still have to buy some for her as gifts as long as your wife still loves them.”
“But my wife’s very fastidious! If I keep buying roses to her, she will just feel bored and ignore me!”
“That depends on the way you give her. Sometimes, you can write some love words on a strip of paper, and then tie it to the stem of the rose. Your wife must feel very happy after receiving it!” She winked to Timberlake. “That’s a good way to preserve your love!”
“Gee, what a fantastic method! Mr. Woolley must have always done that to you so that your love can last for such a long time. Isn’t it so?”
Mrs. Woolley’s smile froze for a few seconds. Then she nodded her head somewhat stiffly.
“Yes. That’s the way we communicate. We call this ‘Rose Trick’.”
The conversation ended abruptly. Mrs. Woolley then went in search of her husband.
Crows cawed outside the house loudly. But no one in house realized that. They still focused on the dancing party.
“Ahhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
A scream suddenly broke the party music. All people were puzzled and everyone froze. Timberlake was the first one able to take action. He rushed outside. He saw Mrs. Woolley just standing near the door, her arms folded and her face expressionless, and glaring at the private swimming pool. But the moment she realized Sergeant Timberlake had dashed out, she immediately came and grabbed his hand. Pointing to their private swimming pool, she shouted, “Please! Please save him! Don’t let him die!”
Timberlake saw someone floating in the pool. He ran closer with a sinking heart.
“Be careful with the slippery floor, Sir!”
He heard Mrs. Woolley talk to him. But he did not care. When he came closer, he knew who he was. MR. WOOLLEY.
Mr. Woolley’s prostrated body was motionless. He was holding a white rose in his blackened hand. He no longer breathed.
He was DEAD.
Timberlake asked other police for help and went back to the house with Mrs. Woolley. When he announced the death of Mr. Woolley, everyone was shocked except one, Margaret.
“So, is he really dead?” Margaret bit her fingernails and asked nervously.
Before Timberlake gave an answer, Margaret had already dashed towards the swimming pool. But she was held back by other guests. Timberlake gazed at her for a while. She was sobbing nervously in the arms of Mrs. Woolley. But Mrs. Woolley just hugged her calmly, without a drop of tear. From time to time, Mrs. Woolley peeped at the police and also Sergeant Timberlake to know about what they were doing.
After asking the permission of Mrs. Woolley, Timberlake went upstairs to examine the Woolleys’ bedrooms. He first entered Margaret’s room. Famous brand clothes and bags were piled up on the bed. Diamond rings, and other jewellery were dumped on the dresser freely. On the table, there were several credit card bills which had the total amount of four hundred thousand dollars.
Timberlake scratched his head. And then he left Margaret’s room but entered the bedroom of the Woolley couple. White roses were put everywhere in the room. In the drawer, there was a box of painting brushes with only the largest brush having been used.
He kept looking for clues. He carefully checked every corner of the room, even rummaging in the rubbish bin. He checked every piece of rubbish from the most upper layer to the bottom part. At the bottom of the rubbish bin, there was a brand new clutch bag. His initial intention was to ignore the bag and end the search. But then, he had some strange feelings. Why did Mrs. Woolley have to dump such a new bag? His curiosity took the better of him. He opened the bag. Then, he found it.
Timberlake smiled. He knew the answer.
Timberlake asked Margaret and Mrs. Woolley come to see the corpse of Mr. Woolley.
“Can you help me to pick up the flower from Mr. Woolley’s hand and bring it back to me, Margaret?” asked Timberlake.
When she was about to pick up the flower, Mrs. Woolley ran in front of her and picked it up by holding a petal at once, and yelled, “Be careful not to get hurt!”
“What are you afraid of?” Timberlake stared at her. “You fear that your daughter will be cut by the thorns, or be poisoned?”
The rose fell to the ground from her hand.
“I found this in your room,” Timberlake took out the painting brushes box. “The blackened fingers show your husband is poisoned. I think you used the brush to paint the poison onto the thorns so only the largest brush is used and has a black tip. Am I right?”
“How did you know?”
“Although your daughter is a suspect since she is materialistic and has a pile of bills to pay off, I know she is too young and doesn’t dare to do so. I can confirm that when I saw her sob over her Dad’s death. But, YOU,” he paused and goggled at Mrs. Woolley, “Isn’t it strange that a wife can react so calmly after her husband is dead? And even care about trifles like the slippery floor? After I found a pile of photos in the new bag that you have dumped in the rubbish bin, I am sure that you are the murderer. That pile of photos of your husband and another woman. He had extramarital affairs and this is your motive for killing Mr. Woolley.”
Tears were running down the cheeks of Mrs. Woolley.
“But do you know what the vital clue is? I found a strip of paper in his hand. ‘Rose Trick’, isn’t it?”
Mrs. Woolley laughed, yelling and crying.
“You’re so clever, Sergeant Timberlake!” she cried. “Yes! I hired a private detective to check that old stick-in-the-mud! Because I knew that. I knew he has a mistress outside. Thanks to that detective. I finally found the evidence and confirmed my guesses. Then I decided. I never allow anyone to betray me! So I told him to meet me near the swimming pool and I put the poisonous white rose there. When he saw the paper tied on the flower, he just thought that was our ‘Rose Trick’. But once he untied the paper and touched the rose, he was dead! Then I could kill him without coming here! Serve him right! I hate him! I really hate him…”
The poisonous white rose began to wither…