It must be murder..

Detective Hathaway stood at the corner of the crime scene, the officers had given him permission to observe the scene and see if there was anything that could give them the lead towards the poor victims killer. “This must have been the fifth murder that happened on this street

In the past century.” The detective shook his head. “Um, excuse me?”, the reporter raised a pencil, “Did you say ‘century’? Five murders on this street in the past 100 years?” “Yes,” the detective answered. “It’s statistically low, and that concerns me. A lot.”

“W-what do you mean by that?” The reporter stammered. “Well you see,” the detective reached in his pocket, “Five murders isn’t a lot,” he smirked, “And I’m here to change that.” The reporter dropped his clipboard and turned to leave. Then a knife struck him. “I was the imposter.”

Dun-dun-DUUUNNN! The horns blared, seemingly from the skies. The murderer looked around. "Doggone sting," he muttered, dropping the bloody knife. Why did he hear that music every time he revealed a secret or made a surprise choice? Did anyone else hear it?

The murderer suddenly saw me. I was in the sky, floating above him. I was the one who kept making the "Dun-dun-DUUUN!" sound, fellow reader. I, The Narrator, stabbed the murderer with my tentacle for seeing me. Now his crimes were paid for, and I look good to the reader. Mwahaha.