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Crime stories 2017-2018

Publié le 23 mai 2018 par le Webmaster

Découvrez deux nouvelles écrites en anglais par des élèves de seconde, à l’issue de la séquence "Crime stories".

A crime of passion

It was 8 pm. The cleaning lady opened the door to Mr Walker’s office.
“Oh, my god !” she exclaimed when she saw Mr Walker dead in his chair, a paper cutter planted in his heart ;
A police officer came and started looking for clues. No fingerprints on the murder weapon, but in Mr Walker’s computer something caught the policeman’s attention : several transfers of 3,000 dollars each made to the account of Miss Taylor, his secretary. She was immediately questioned and she responded, “It’s normal, I work for Mr Walker.”
“What a generous remuneration for a simple secretary,” said the policeman with a sarcastic smile.
“OK, OK, I admit I discovered that Mr Walker had a mistress and I blackmailed him,” she explained.
“Do you know his mistress’s name ?” he asked.
“Betty, Belly Logan,” she said.
“Thank you, Miss Taylor.”
The police officer went on to interrogate the woman in question.
“Miss Logan, right ?” he asked.
“Yes ?” she said.
“I suppose you know why we’re here ? Mr Walker was murdered. Did you know him ?”
“No... well, maybe !” the young woman said shamefacedly.
“You weren’t jealous of his wife ?” said the policeman in a hostile tone.
“Of course not !” she answered nervously.
“Where were you this afternoon around 6 o’clock ?” he asked.
“At the cinema, the session began at twenty to six,” she declared.
“I don’t believe that for a minute. You bought a movie ticket but it was never used, we found it in Mr Walker’s office,” the officer said, proud to have solved the crime.

Miss Logan had quarreled with Mr Walker because he did not intend to leave his wife.
Betty could not accept it as she was madly in love.


The traitor

What is greed ? What is an ally ? What is a human being ?
To be honest, I don’t know because I never really asked myself those questions until... this :

My name is Jeff Sluger, I would say that I’m just an average man who enjoys life as much as he can since I don’t have that much money.
I like to hang out with my childhood friend Shepard Meyer, he is a really funny guy and borderline crazy. Just like me, he is also short on money. In fact, both of us were raised in poverty and since we had our first dollars as children, the only thing on our mind has been money.

It was a regular Friday night, I had just finished my job as a janitor and was heading toward the pub where I would meet up with Shepard so we could drink while laughing at our miserable life. I arrived at the pub and waited for Shepard at our usual place. He finally showed up after ten minutes. While he was sitting, I jokingly said, “Mr Meyer, you are late once again,” as a reference to our math teacher at high school. Shepard hated him.
He replied, “Oh, I’m sorry, I was busy flirting with one of the many women who want my attentions. I know you can’t understand the feeling with that face of yours !”
We both laughed as he was raising his hand to order some booze.

The two of us would spend the whole night at this pub drinking and talking. He would tell me about some cute girl at the mall or even his childlike plan to become the richest man on earth. Sometimes I felt like I was listening to a kid.

That night, the pub closed earlier due to a water supply problem, something that didn’t interest us as we were too drunk to care about anything at all except drinking.
So both of us wandered in the city in our quest for more booze. While walking around, we came across a lottery tickets vending machine. We decided to spend our last dollar on that. And... we actually won ! I saw a grin on shepard’s mouth which frightened me.
We had to wait until the next day to claim the money.
I don’t know why but I felt danger coming from him. So in an alley, I punched him right in the face, I killed him so he wouldn’t kill me. I did it before he could.
I am a traitor.
And here I am, telling my story to a police officer at the police station.

Lyc�e Fran�ois Truffaut
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