Mathew Roberts: The Violist

The Violist





It was a mid-summer night in July 1962. The rain poured down as a man pulled out his umbrella, and looked at his pocket watch.

“She's late again.” he said as he opened his umbrella. 23 year old detective Mathew Roberts had  been standing in the same spot for over an hour when a young lady of 18 ran up to him; breathing heavily, as though she had been running for a while.

“You're late, Veronica,” Mathew said displeased.

“Not everybody can be on time Mathew,” the woman ,Veronica, answered ringing out her long brunet hair.

“I understand, but an hour late? What is the meaning of this?” Mathew asked in an irritated tone.

“I lost track of the time,” Veronica said trying to justify her reason for being late. “I have a life unlike some people.” Mathew, unconvinced with her explanation, started to walk down an alley.

“The victim's name was Hastings, Laurence Hastings,” Mathew said, “age 47, married, with 4 children.”

“And how did you manage to get a hold of this information?” Veronica asked.

“I took the liberty of meeting with his wife before the time we were to meet, but,” Mathew paused to look at Veronica with his Hazel eyes, “somebody was late.” Pulling out a pare of gloves, he started looking around.

“Okay, you want me to say it, okay then. I'm sorry for being late.” Veronica said, in an apologetic voice.

“And...?” Mathew said waiting for a reply. Veronica looked at Mathew and rolled her eyes.

“And I'll make up for the precious time you lost waiting for me.” Veronica aforementioned

“Good, you can make it up by canceling your Viola lessons tomorrow.” Mathew said putting on the gloves.

“What? No, I can't cancel my Viola lessons, I have a concert in a month!” Veronica argued.

“Yes, but your lessons last for about an hour each, and since you owe me an hour of your time what better way than to solve a murder/suicide with me!” Mathew said lifting up a box. “I seem to have found our murder weapon.” putting down the box, he then picked up a pair of scissors.

“It's a pair of scissors.” Veronica said, looking at the scissors

“These scissors are newly bought,” Mathew said grabbing a tag that was on them.

“You can't prove this is the murder weapon, there isn't even a trace of blood on them,” Veronica said with a look of annoyance. Mathew then pulled the scissors to his face and sniffed the scissors. Smiling, he then handed the scissors to Veronica.

“Smell them,” he told her

“Why would I smell a pair of scissors?” Veronica questioned. Mathew, being insistent that she smell them, convinced her to do so.

“It smells like bleach,” Veronica said.

“Exactly! Someone tried to clean these scissors and get rid of them,” Mathew said proving his point.

“So you think the killer used these scissors to kill Laurence?” Veronica replied.

“It's getting late Veronica,” Mathew interrupted, “We will have to continue our investigation in the morning, but this time don't be late.” Mathew leaving the scene pulled out his pocket watch, “Thirty minutes past 11 o'clock. Good night Veronica, Sleep well.”


The following day, Mathew had been up early, trying to pick a lock ton a brief case. As he was about to unlock the case, a knock came at the door.

“The door is open, Veronica” Mathew said. Veronica opened the door and saw that Mathew hadn't changed his clothes at all since last they met, and then noticed the brief case he was trying to open.

“Isn't that Mr. Rodger's brief case?” Veronica asked

“That is correct, he ever so kindly left it at my front door.” Mathew said as a click from the brief case rang.

“So you're opening it without his consent?” Veronica asked

“Yes, he really should have known better then to leave it where I could find it,” Mathew said as he started to open the brief case, “ And here is all the information about this murder.” Mathew pulled out a file that was labeled “Hastings, Laurence” and started to go through it. Without a second thought, Veronica sat down and started to go through the file with Mathew.

“What, exactly, are we looking for?” Veronica asked as she went through the file.

“Any social tie's or even bad relationships Hastings might have had.” Mathew said as he pulled out a piece of paper and started to write down names and addresses of people.

“And who are those people?” Questioned Veronica

“The suspects,” Mathew said, “and where each is located.” Veronica watched as he quickly wrote down names.

“Jessica Hastings? Why are you putting his wife's name on there?” Veronica asked

“Everybody he has ever known is a suspect,” Mathew said as he put away his pen, “and speaking of Mrs. Hastings, we shall start with her.” Neatly folding the paper, he put it in his pocket when a knock on the door sounded. Pulling out his pocket watch, Mathew checked the time.

“Right on time,” Mathew said as he opened the door, looking to Veronica, “Mr. Rodger, missing something?” Mr. Rodger was a 5'9” man with short black hair, mid-40's, and gave a look of displeasure as he stared at Mathew with bright blue eyes.

“Where is my brief case?” Mr. Rodger said in a deep voice

“Ah, yes and I assume you would like your lunch too?” Mathew said as if he knew what Mr. Rodger was about to say. It was like a battle of wits was about to begin, both men equal in knowledge, different ways in which they used their knowledge.

“I want the files that were in it too.” Mr. Rodger said as he stared Mathew down, Mathew doing the same. Veronica, growing impatient went and grabbed the brief case.

“Well it's been nice seeing you again, Mr. Rodger, but Mathew and I have very important business to take care of,” Veronica said as she handed him his brief case, “Have a nice day!” Veronica was about to close the door when Mr. Rodger stopped her.

“Mathew I don't want to see you anywhere near the murder investigation,” Mr. Rodger said, “do you understand?” Mathew gave him an unwelcoming smile.

“I understand perfectly, Mr. Rodger, and be sure to tell your wife her cooking is beautiful.” Mathew said as he shut the door. Mathew ran to the window and closed the curtains. He then went and grabbed his coat and gave it to Veronica.

“Put on my coat, Veronica.” Mathew said as he went to get a tie from his bedroom.

“But I brought my own coat,” said Veronica, “ I don't need another.” with that said, Mathew went and grabbed her coat, put it in the fire place and set it ablaze.

“My coat!” Veronica exclaimed

“And now I believe you should be leaving.” Mathew said as he opened the door for her. Veronica was outraged, but knew Mathew never did anything without a reason. Veronica left with Mathews coat and Mathew closed the door. Mathew then went and grabbed an old worn out coat, and left out the back door. Moving along the back alleys of town he then found Veronica around the market. Pulling out a straw and the paper with addresses, he ripped a small piece off and made a spit ball. Aiming for Veronica's head, he made a direct hit and scared Veronica. Veronica walked in the direction of Mathew.

“Mathew why did you do that!?” Veronica asked irritated.

“To get your attention,” Mathew said, “and there is where Mrs. Hastings lives.” Mathew pointed to a small building with a red roof. Mathew started to walk away when Veronica grabbed his shoulder.

“Why did you burn my coat?” She asked

“I have 3 reasons for burning it,” Mathew said, “1, I wanted it to look like I wasn't going anywhere because I never leave without my coat. 2, I needed something to start a fire with. 3, it made your hips look larger then they really are.” Veronica was angered at his reasons for burning her coat.

“You owe me a new coat!” She yelled.

“I gave you my coat.” Mathew said, heading toward the house, “I don't owe you anything.” Knocking on the door, the two waited patiently. A petite women with, messy brown hair came to the door, carrying a child.

“Mrs. Hastings I presume?” Mathew said in a calm voice

“Yes, what do you need?”Mrs. Hastings questioned

“We came here to talk to you about your husband, Laurence Hastings?” Mathew said

“If you're here to make false accusations then you can leave.” Mrs. Hastings was about to shut the door, when Mathew stopped her.

“Ma'am, we are here to ask a few questions about your husband,” Mathew said,
“please allow us to explain.” Mrs. Hastings stood there for a minute then let them in. the living room was crowded with toy's and white furniture. Mathew observed every little trinket that hung on the wall, then looked to Veronica. Veronica was staring at a beautiful oak wood Cello leaning against the wall.

“Was Mr. Hastings a Cello Player?” asked Mathew. Veronica, who was obviously missing her Viola, listened quietly.

“He was, although he used his Viola more than any other instrument,” said Mrs. Hastings, “He had a concert in a month.”

“Did he, now?” Mathew began to have his suspicions about Veronica's behavior, as she was not her usual self. “Was he going to play a Solo, or perhaps a duet with anybody he knew very well?” now looking to Veronica

“A string quartet,” Mrs. Hastings said, “What does any of this have to do with the death of my husband?”

“Oh nothing much, It's just I have a fascination with stringed instruments,” Mathew said, catching the attention of Veronica, “And who was in this quartet?”

“He didn't tell me.” Mrs. Hastings answered

“Then that's all we will be needing,” Mathew said, “Sorry to bother you, Ma'am” Mathew  grabbed Veronica's hand and helped her up.

“Good day, sir.” Mrs. Hastings said as she showed them to the door showed them to the door. Mathew left, dragging Veronica behind him. Veronica had no idea what Mathew was doing or where he was going, but he was in a hurry. Mathew, practically running now, pulled out his pocket watch and checked the time.

“Where are we going, Mathew?!” Veronica said trying to keep up with Mathew.

“I believe you have to get to your Viola lesson!” Mathew said then stopped for a minute. He looked down the street and to his dismay he say Mr. Rodger making his way through the street. Mathew looked around and headed down an ally.

“Mathew, you said I would have to miss my lesson!” Veronica said confused

“And now your lesson has become the scene of the crime.” Mathew said now walking.

“It's because Mr. Hastings had a concert the same time I do, isn't it?” Veronica questioned, “Mathew, it's just a coincidence that we were to play at the same concert.”

“Veronica, tell me, what were you practicing for this concert?” Mathew asked

“Mathew! Are you saying that I'm a suspect now?!” Veronica said almost outraged

“For now you are.” Mathew then turned the corner into the town square.

“This is ridiculous Mathew! What motive would I have to kill Mr. Hastings?!” Veronica said

“Veronica, answer the question.” Mathew said in a serious tone.

“I am playing a solo, happy?” Veronica said irritated. Mathew then turned again and across the street was a huge theater. Grabbing Veronica's hand he made his way over and checked his watch.

“Right on time, 11:30,” Mathew said and turned to Veronica, “I believe we are right on time for practice.” Mathew opened the theater door and let Veronica enter first. The theater was filled with empty red seats, and 2 Violinist were on the stage with another cellist. Looking at these players, Veronica started to feel tense.

“Veronica, tell me what you did the night of the murder.” Mathew asked, as if he new what she did. Veronica was hesitant to answer.

“I was practicing.” She said.

“And what were you practicing?” Mathew asked. Veronica sat in silence and then got up. She started to walk to the stage. Mathew followed her as she went back stage. Veronica stopped next to a Viola and started to play it.

“Veronica, dear, would you play what you were practicing?” Mathew asked. Veronica always delighted to play, started, and Mathew listened quietly. Veronica started off softly and the tempo stayed the same throughout the song, but when she had made a mistake she stopped.


“Mathew, I'm sorry.” Veronica said. Mathew didn't look surprised at her mistake.

“You did it Veronica.” Mathew said

“Mathew...” Veronica said as she stepped toward him.“You have no idea'” Veronica then bashed the Viola into Mathew's head leaving him unconscious, “How much I wanted to be in that quartet.” Mathew was unconscious for several hours, before Mr. Rodger woke him up.

“Mr. Roberts, I told you to stay away from my crime scene,” Mr. Rodger said, “What happened?” Mathew's head spun like a top.

“Veronica did it.” Mathew said. Mr. Rodger was surprised.

“Why would a sweet girl like Veronica kill anyone?” Mr. Rodger asked

“Her motive was to take out Hastings, who was a Violist, and take his place in the string quartet,” Mathew said, “her love of music was her downfall.”

“Where is she now?” Mr. Rodgers asked

“She fled for her life,” Mathew said, “But I have feeling that she will miss her concert.” Mathew thought about the time he spent with her, and why she did what she had. Mathew then got up and started to leave.

“I wish I could have helped her...” Mathew said as he checked his pocket watch, only to see the photograph of Veronica and himself.