The Sacrifice

A Story by Sami Khalil

Detective Head Turner...Sacrifices at the altar of power...

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The Sacrifice By Sami Khalil

A murder mystery solved…Detective Head Turner!

Light was slowly fading, closing a chapter of scarlet beauty. The sun was relinquishing its burnt throne, while the moon brought about eventides, gradually numbing the senses by rhythmic crashes, setting imaginations aglow. Dolphins were heard loud and clear in peals of laughter, as seabirds frolicked, looking for a decayed fine dining.

Nothing seemed to transpire, as detective Head Turner walked his dog “Bootsie” along a secluded sandy beach, admiring the distant diamonds in the sky, contemplating about the (Big Diamond) he is about to give his girlfriend of three years “Susan Bunn” after he goes back to pop the question to her. His fear of marriage was subdued, when some friends thought he should take a solitary vacation, thinking about the matter seriously, before jumping in both feet.

It was fall time, which was just a perfect timing for this getaway, from Washington, D.C. suburbs, out to the Outer banks of N.C. shores. Seeking a spot to drift away from mortal throngs, beaches were deserted this time of year, eerily untouched by the boisterous ones, sunning themselves.

Nothing more pleasurable and valuable to him now as solitary things or lonely adventures. He believed that part of anyone’s treasure, are valuable commodities; part of anyone’s pleasure, are senses of adventure. For every vacation must include adventures, lest they become boring.

Accidentally, he stumbled upon a real one, albeit in mysterious circumstances. It was a grim finding indeed! A bombshell female body washed up on this deserted beach, raising spates of speculation. A grim scene to behold, it must have been a foul play at hand, no doubt. Riddled with bullets, blood still oozing out mixed with the waves, but to his shock the body decomposed not. The black bag hosting the body, had many tears in it as signs of ferocious shark teeth, were displayed.

He immediately called the police, then his friend, the coroner, back in D. C. to transport her body for an examination. Taking pictures of her face, running them on a computer in the hotel lobby, using a governmental data base, he uncovered her identity. The press was called and many articles were written.

Oddly enough, she was a renowned actress, who had a past affair with the president. Even the detective’s girlfriend knew who she was, for she went to high school with her. Come to find out, rumors had it that she was going to expose their illicit affair, till this day, to his wife which went on behind her back. Fearing shame and blame, the president asked a New Yorkan mobster boss, named Giovanni, to take care of her in the local lingua franca. A post mortem report found traces of bullets still embedded in her body, traced to him. Squealing on the president, getting a lenient charge from murder, he cooperated with authorities. After finding out, the president fled in the dark of night, after having emotional breakdowns. No one knew, until later, that a Russian submarine picked him up at Virginia Beach.

The country was in turmoil, grappling with shock and awe. The vice president took over power, calming the unhappy people, promising reform and accountability. Years passed, as detective Turner with his beloved wife were walking the secluded beach with their dog “Bootsie,” during their fall honeymoon, at the Outer banks, his wife became terrified to see a body washing up on shore. It was bullet-riddled, relishing not the shark bites witnessed by surfers in the distance. The puzzle that rattled the populace has been solved. It was the president. Dead! Obviously, the Russians had no need of a traitor. They weaned him off his Hollywood fantasy. “It must have been a political sacrifice; a shark eating another,” the detective thought to himself.