The French-owned Caribbean island of Martinique, a few miles away from La Perdita in the chain of islands known as the Lesser Antilles...
A fat lump of flesh that had once been a living, breathing man lay motionless in a chair behind a desk in a locked room. The man had received many death threats over the past few months and had taken them very seriously. His advisors had told him to get out of the country... go on vacation for a while... perhaps on a Caribbean island... To that end, the man had gone to this Caribbean island and found a hotel with a well-guarded room, one kept only for VIPs. There were bars on his window and guards posted outside his room and even next to the windows outside. They had told him that no one could enter this room without their knowing it. They had told him that he was safe.
Now he was dead.
Griffin loved these kinds of jobs. He almost felt sorry for the detective who would be assigned to this case. It was a "locked-room mystery" -- his specialty -- which the detective would have to figure out an explanation for. Metahumans were rare -- extremely rare -- and no respectable police detective would use "metahuman" as the reason for what seemed an "impossible crime" -- that would be a so-called "cop-out". No, the detective would probably take the easy route and rule the death a suicide.
Even though the knife was in his back.
Even though the man was physically unable to reach his arms behind his back to stab himself there.
Even though the man's throat had been slit after he had been stabbed in the back.
Murder was an art. And Griffin was an auteur.
A buzzing sound came to Griffin's eldil stone, an artifact which he had figured out a way to use as a pager. It was only one thing -- someone was contacting him by e-mail for another job. As much as he would like to stay and savour his current job as long as possible before someone realized that the man hadn't left his room for quite some time or even called room-service for his next frequent meal, he would have to get back to his own hotel room and check his e-mail.
Perhaps it would be another interesting job. Griffin loved his work...
