by T. W. Fuller

Created on: June 07, 2009

Excerpt from "The Emerson County Murder Mystery" (working title)

(Please note, if there is any missing quotation marks, it is Helium, not the author)

Davidson rang the doorbell and waited, sighing in quiet disbelief, hoping this new lead did not drag him all the way out to New York City for nothing. In all his years on the force he had been involved in any number of cases which stopped cold for lack of evidence. But this was the first case in memory to have been cold for so many decades, and now, suddenly a new spark was ignited. The key he held in his hand must be of some great importance. Why else would Emerson have swallowed it? It was impossible to know for certain if he had ingested it hours earlier before his murder, or if perchance only moments prior to the heinous act. The coroner had spotted the key lodged in the throracic vertebrae just above the manubrium, and might explain the deep gash to Emerson's throat. Perhaps his killer had witnessed the key being swallowed and had attempted, unsuccessfully, to retrieve it. Or perhaps, more logically, over the course of ninety years of being buried in a sack under mounds of sand, the key had merely shifted its position. For now, Davidson put it out of his mind. He had never delved this deep into the history of Emerson County, and of American history itself, and already his intuition was telling him to be very cautious.

What the key would actually open was an even greater mystery. It was unique in design, made of solid gold, specially crafted, very tiny, and significantly old, so he had learned from the antique dealer he showed it to. Possibly meant to open a locket, or watch, or diary.

Now, standing outside the home of Tina Emerson, great, great grand daughter of Montgomery Emerson, his closest living relative, and whose DNA was a ninety-nine percent match with his, Davidson hoped she could provide him with anything that might lead to the object which this key would open.

A young woman approached the door, opening it slightly. The chain lock was still clasped around the hook for security.

Are you Tina Emerson?

Yes. Are you Detective Davidson?

I am.

Tina unclasped the lock and opened the door.

Come in. The coroner called me earlier this morning and told me the news. Tine walked Davidson into the parlor room and motioned for him to sit down. There was a coffee pot and two cups on the table. It's astonishing, after all these years, decades, actually, to find out what happened to him. All any of us

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