The Tic-Tac-Toe Murder

A complete murder mystery in less than a 1000 words. 

The Tic-Tac-Toe Murder

By Michael Sutch

    She might have been quite lovely before. A dark haired, blue-eyed college coed. Now, sightless eyes circled with violet lipstick, stared at the ceiling. The circles around her eyes were like the Os in a tic-tac-toe game, especially when you considered the violet X high on her pallid forehead, another between her eyes and a third slashed over her lips. They were all marked through with a razor cut that left a bright red line down the center of her face, a razor cut that intersected with the one that had opened her throat. No, she was not pretty now.
    I stood up and watched while two detectives handcuffed the unresisting boy, read him his rights and led him away. He had stopped sobbing, but had yet to say anything coherent. He had been found, straight razor in hand, cradling the dead girl in his arms, her blood soaking his pants and tee shirt.
    "Looks pretty straight forward," Brownie said. He knelt, careful not to get her blood on his pants leg, and aimed the camera. The flash went off. I blinked away little yellow lights.
    "You think so?"
    "Sure, happens all the time. She cut him out for some other guy and he couldn't take it."
    "So why'd he play tic-tac-toe on her face?"
    "Weird, ain't it? You wouldn't think a guy would do that to his girlfriend's face, even if he was pissed at her."
    I nodded and looked around the room. There were two beds, two desks, two chairs. One wall consisted of brick and board bookcases pretty well filled with college texts and paperback books. Without straining I could see three papers covered with old tic-tac-toe games. Also there was a fancy wooden board with gold Xs and Os on one of the desks.
    "But a guy crazy in love is like to do anything, don't you think?" Brownie said. "Come on, what do you think of my theory?"
    "Brownie, it's a good thing your a photographer and not a detective."
    He grinned. "Yeah?"
     In the hallway outside I could see the white, pensive face of another coed. I reached for my glasses in my shirt pocket. They weren't there. I found them on top of my head in their usual place, the place I always unconsciously put them. Sighing, I left them perched there, went to the door, beckoned the girl over. She came, moving silkily in jeans so tight I was surprised she could move at all.
    "You are?"
    "Janny Waithe."
    "You're her..."
    "Mary Jo's..."
    "...roommate?"
    "Yes, sir." Blond curls jangled at her nod.
    "You found them, didn't you?"
    "Yes." She frowned, gray eyes flecked with pain, then looked down.
    "Why did he do it, do you think?"
    "I don't know. It's crazy."
    "She dating some other guy?"
    "Maybe. Mary Jo liked a lot of guys."
    I picked up the Tic-Tac-Toe board from the desk. "This yours?" I asked.
    "Yes. I like board games."
    "Did Mary Jo play Tic-Tac-Toe with you?"
    "Sometimes, when things were slow."
    "But you won most of the time?"
    "Not really. Most Tic-Tac-Toe games end in a draw, you know."
    "Seems odd," I said, "for a boy to cut up the face of the girl he loves that way. But a rival, now, that might make sense."
    She shrugged.
    "Mary Jo stole him from you, didn't she?"
    Janny didn't answer, but there might have been the hint of a smile on those violet lips.
    "And the lipstick, it's yours, too."
    "Yes."
    "Where did he get it?"
    "I must have left it lying around."
    "Really, it would be a kind of Tic-Tac-Toe game in its own right, wouldn't it Janny? X Mary Jo for stealing your boyfriend, X the boyfriend for deserting you, and X the police for being stupid. Tic-Tac-Toe."
    "Is that your case?" she asked. Her gray eyes were wide with surprise.
    "Well, no. There is the blood on your jeans."
    "I didn't know what had happened when I first came in. I got down on my knees to see what was wrong."
    "That's when you gave him the straight razor, wasn't it? He was already in shock from seeing Mary Jo and when he got down to hold her you handed it to him. He never even noticed, did he?"
    "Why are you saying this?"
    "It's mostly because of the lipstick." I said.
    "What do you mean?"
    "I imagine there will be fingerprints on the case; yours of course, but also his if he used it to mark her face."
    "So?"
    "Where is it, Janny?"
    She looked around, confused. "He must of dropped it here somewhere."
    I put my hand up and felt my glasses there on top of my head. "It's funny, isn't it, how when you're in the habit of doing something, that even when you decide to do it a different way, your mind will just do what it's in the habit of doing and you won't even remember doing it?"
    "What are you talking about?"
    "You must have intended to give him the lipstick too. But things got kind of hectic, I imagine."
    "I don't know what you are talking about."
    "Where do you normally carry your lipstick, Janny?"
    Suddenly she looked frightened. Her hand moved toward her jeans pocket. Then she stopped, sensing a trick.
    "Those are awfully tight jeans. I can see the lipstick right there in your pocket where you put it. Tic-Tac-Toe, kid."

(c) 2006 by Michael Sutch