The Most Sinister Crime You’ve Never Heard Of: The Gatsby Killings Of 1947

I flicked on a light as soon as I got into the hallway and noticed an open door to the left just before the end. It seemed like the sounds of the chair’s gears grinding were coming from in there. The little prep room which connected to the formal dining room.

I followed.

I stopped just inside the doorway and tried the light switch in the little prep room, but it didn’t work.

I squinted in the dark and made out what looked to be the bookcase I was accustomed to see in the room, turned sideways as if someone had pulled it away from the wall. The gap in the wall the bookcase left looked to open into another little room I had never seen before.

A horrible feeling rumbled in my gut. Like that flushing drop to the pit of your stomach you get not long after eating something rotten.

I fought back the fear. I figured at this point that if someone, or something, had something sinister in mind for me, they would have already done it. If anything, going into this dark, secret room was going to give me information which may be useful.

I followed.

The scent of thick perfume came over me as soon as I walked into the room. I instantly sneezed, twice, and it delayed me taking in the room for a few moments.

The room slowly came into focus in the soft light provided by a flickering candle in the corner. Just left of the candle was a vanity mirror, perched on top of an ornate counter. Seated in front of the counter on a velvet stool was who I recognized as a younger version of my grandma.


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