|
Post by Biblically Accurate Angel on Aug 14, 2017 4:57:50 GMT -5
Literary Mosaic 2
Assassin
Chapter One: The Crime Mr. Adolf Gunnarson stepped out into the cool air of the London night. "Ah," he said, "so peaceful and calm." He walked home thinking about the dinner party he had been to. He was about to enter his apartment when he heard a man say, "Well, I suppose we'll have to kill her off, then." He chuckled to himself. Ah, playwrights!
When Gunnarson looked into his living room, he said a woman standing there. "Miss, how did you get into my apartment?" he asked questionably "There's no time, I hear your a great detective and I need your help!" the woman shouted frantically. "Calm down miss, what's the problem?' Gunnarson asked. "An associate I work with is dead and I think it's espionage!" she said still frantic... "Why do you think it is espionage, mademoiselle?" "We work for the British Government." "This sounds serious. Have you notified the police?" "Yes, sir, we have." "Right, take me to the crime scene at once, om du ville."
They stepped out into the street, when suddenly a shot rang out, and the woman slumped into Gunnarson's arms.... dead! Then a man followed by a plethora of footsteps shouted, "Nach ihm, jetzt! Jetzt!" in a language Gunnarson couldn't tell at the time. Before the group of men could get to the detective, sirens were raised and shouted came from all buildings, "Bombers sighted! Germans inbound! Get to the Underground!" Tons of people flooded the once empty streets, and the mysterious foreigners were swept away with the crowd.
It would be several hours before Gunnarson regained his senses. Once everything was back to normal, Gunnarson proceeded to the crime scene; fortunately, it was not damaged by the raid. Chief Gent was there. "Hello, Gent; what have we got here today?" he asked as he came closer. "Homicide; victim is a 40 year old male, Walter Farley," he said, bringing him closer to the body. Gunnarson took a closer look at the victim. "Such a shame!" said Gunnarson. "And the woman that told gets killed herself." "WHAT?!" cried Gent. "Damn it! Why didn't you tell me?!" he shouted to the other policemen. "Sir, this is a time of war; we are very short handed as it is," one constable said.
Gunnarson looked in a jacket pocket, and found some sheets of paper. They had a series of numbers on them, and a partial letter to number decoding table. "Interesting... What do we have here?" Gunnarson said as he went to have a closer look.
"And anyway," continued the constable, "she was killed due to a raid." Gunnarson heard this. "I beg to differ!" he said. "That woman was purposely murdered!" "What? Two homicides in the same night?!" Gent said in shock. "And you say this woman was connected to this man, meaning that we are looking at a double homicide," Gent surmised. "But there could be two different, but related murderers," a constable pointed out. "What the heck is going on here?" Gent asked, looking up at the sky. "I got it!" Gunnarson said. "I have one possible theory," he continued. "What is it?" Gent asked. "If you don't mind, I'd prefer to keep it to myself for the time being. I'd like to test it first." "Well... I suppose that's all right," said Gent.
Gunnarson was carefully looking over the crime scene. After a very thorough analysis of the scene, Gunnarson had found eight clues:
- The paper with the letters and numbers.
- Three cigarettes, still smoldering.
- Two shoe prints, one partial and one complete.
- A bottle of beer, not a local brand.
- A torn scarf with a unique pattern, clutched tightly in the victim's hand.
- Some hair, caught in the victim's fingernails.
- A broken half to a walking stick, that matched a bruise on the victim's back.
- The shell casing from the fired bullet.
"This all has to do with the crime?" Gent asked. "Look, there are no trash receptacles here, so there's no reason for anything to be in this alley. Meaning, anything within a reasonable distance to the body is good evidence," he said. "Look around us, there are clear signs of a struggle. The victim has hair in his fingernails from when he tried to grab his attacker, and he actually managed to rip off part of the killer's scarf. See this? These cigarettes, I recognize the pattern anywhere - these are Royal Guard Brand, they're quite pricey and hard to find, so this is our killer's favorite brand. The walking stick, clearly an attempt to knock down the victim. And as the killer was leaving, he stepped here, onto this. Based on the tread pattern, these look like... size 14 work boots, which is not a common shoe size, mind you. That beer bottle is not a local brand, the killer must have been enjoying a drink and smoke, waiting in ambush for the victim; no doubt there are fingerprints on it. This shell casing - I will need to examine this and the document further, but these hairs. Our victim has brown hair as you can see, and these hairs are blonde. In short, we find a blonde haired man who owns the other half of this walking stick and scarf..." Gunnarson concluded. "We find the killer?" Gent surmised. "Bingo," Gunnarson followed up with.
Gunnarson walked back to his apartment deep in thought. He almost didn't see the large blonde man until he ran into him. "Oof!" "Watch it, you!" "Sorry!" said Gunnarson, and he entered his apartment again.
|
|
|
Post by Biblically Accurate Angel on Aug 14, 2017 5:34:38 GMT -5
Chapter Two: The Introduction of Elvira & The Incident at the Tower As he settled into his apartment, the unofficial detective went to his chalkboard and began compiling the information he needed to figure out who it was. "Let's see... he's got blond hair, size 14 shoes, smokes Royal Guard cigarettes, drinks Freiberger beer, and has a torn scarf and broken walking stick," he said to himself. Then he looked at the coded paper. "But what of this?" he asked himself. Gunnarson decided to sleep on it, and next morning, woke up feeling refreshed, and ready to kick into action. He decided his first step was to get himself together. So after breakfast and getting dressed, he went on and tackled the case before him.
"So these two cases are connected no doubt. I've got an idea for who killed the man, but the woman... it all happened so fast," he thought to himself. He went to the paper and tried to see what it was all about. "The only reason someone would code a message is that he would only want certain people to read it. No doubt, if I'm ever going to solve this case, I've got to figure out this message." He had some of the code, which was a start, so he began looking at the message. "Let's see if this letter corresponds to this number, and as do these... a ha! I see the pattern now. So then this number must be this letter..." And he began to solve the code, one word at a time.
When he finished, he stared. Before him said: "Your red dog's life isn't there. Is there an in joke? Watch out for danger!" "It has got to be some sort of code," he concluded. But what did the 'red dog' refer too?" There had to be some sort of metaphor there. "Wait...what was the name of that pub three blocks over? If I take Red Dog, and rearrange... Godred. There's that pub called Godred's. Could it be a meeting location?" It was a stretch at best, but it was the only lead he had. He went to Godred's to look for any "suspicious characters."
And now we leave Gunnarson, and take a different aspect of the case....
*** Elvira Revinev plunged the dagger into his back.
Elvira was a trained assassin, who was always one step above the law. Just now, she had been hired to kill Evan Evenov, who had angered her employer. She used her looks to lure unsuspecting males to their doom, and was friendly enough to do the same with women. She left the area and went to a dark alley where she met her employer. "Is he dead?" "I stabbed him in the back, just as instructed," she said as she went to accept payment. "Who's my next victim?" "No one yet; first, we're going to wait a couple days for the attention to die down." "Then?" "Then you are going after this fellow here," he said, handing her a picture. "Lives in Ipswitch, and we've been given a special instruction." "And that is?" "When you kill him, the guy who wants him dead, wants you to make sure he 'drowns in his own blood'." "What does that mean?" "How should I know? You're the assassin, use your imagination," the employer said as he left.
Elvira sighed. This time it looked like it would take a bit of strategy to get him. She walked away, thinking on what she would do. This was going to be a tricky task, but she had few failures in her career, and she was not about to add another one.
*** Meanwhile, as Gunnarson was making his way to the pub on his only lead, he ran into an old friend, Victor Watson, who asked him a question about something that had confused him. "Say Gunnarson, what is the term they give to early schools in the United States; you know, for kindergarten to fifth grade? I seem to have forgotten what they call those schools." "Why, it's elementary, my dear Watson."
With that out of the way, Gunnarson stumbled upon a vital clue... "What's this... A red herring?" He asked, picking up the fish. But there was a cut into it. He reached inside and pulled out... another coded message... with the same key. "Another coded message - same key? So, what does this one say?" He began decoding. "When the dawn's light falls on the tower London, then shall man truly perspire." "Tower London is clearly the Tower of London... And dawn... Something is going to happen at dawn. I must hurry!"
Gunnarson ran to the Tower of London. Something was going to happen at dawn... but what? "Gunnarson!" called a voice. Gunnarson turned and saw Gent on the other side of the street. "Why up so early this morning? It's pretty strange even for you," Gent pointed out. "Well, min vän, I am here on business!" "What? Why?" "I found a note from the same people who were involved with the alley murder. Something is about to happen at the Tower of London at dawn, and I intend to find out!" Gunnarson explained. "I see," said Gent. "Shall I stay here with you?" "If you wish to; hold on; I see something."
At a nearby phone booth, Gunnarson overheard "Yeah, I'm on the way. Of course I got it. Don't worry, he's taken care of. I'll never forgive him for tearing my favorite scarf though. See you soon." And he hung up and started walking... towards the Tower of London. "That can't be a coincidence," Gent observed. "Well, it was a coincidence that you ran into me here," Gunnarson pointed out. "True." They followed the man in the black suit, where he met with two others. "Here's the package," the man said. Gent and Gunnarson listened in on the conversation "Ah, thank you, my friend." The man paid the other man, and opened the package. Gunnarson and Gent peared in the window. Inside were... ice skates. ""Do they have the 'special heels' I requested?" "Yes they do," the giver said as he left. The man took the ice skates, and took off the bottom heel. He pulled out another piece of paper. Gunnarson began making out what was going on. "That's another coded paper." But the real shocker came when the man's scarf fell off. Gunnarson made out the unique pattern... and the tear on one end. "Ugh; man I need new shoes; but why are size 14s so hard to find?" He asked himself. The rather big man too off his hat, revealing blonde hair, then he took out cigarettes for a smoke... Royal Guard cigarettes. Now there was no denying it "that's him! That's the guy!" Gunnarson told Gent. "Alright," said Gent. "Sir, you're under arrest." "What? Why?" "That paper you have." "But..." "But what?" The man groaned and handed the paper to Gent.
"Dearest,
Father is still not ready to let you return. He does not like engagement at all! But I don't care what he says, Darling. I still love you, love, love, LOVE you!
Your beloved Annie." Gent coughed, said "Excuse me", and left with Gunnarson. "We sure have made fools of ourselves, haven't we?" "Yes," replied Gunnarson, "we... mun Gud! The bridge! We forgot about the bridge!"
Wasting no time, the two set off for the Tower Bridge, where they saw another meeting. "He has been taken care of?" "Of course; that traitor won't be causing us anymore trouble," the man said as he took out a pack of Royal Guard cigarettes. "Man, these are so hard to find," he said as he continued talking.
Gent moved forward without thinking. "Stop!" said Gunnarson in vain. "Alright," said Gent, "what's going o- Oh! Mr. Prime Minister, Sir! With all due respect, why are you here sir? Being out in the open, and in wartime! You are an easy target, sir." "Excuse me," said the Prime Minister to the others. Then he whispered something in Gent's ear. "Oh, I see. Sorry." And Gent and Gunnarson left.
|
|
|
Post by Biblically Accurate Angel on Aug 14, 2017 6:39:02 GMT -5
Chapter Three: Crossman Tobacco "Gunnarson, this is not like you at all - how could you have had two dead leads in one day?" Gent asked. "I don't know... and the first suspect fit the profile almost perfectly. But don't worry, I do have one more, and this one is surefire," Gunnarson assured. "What do you mean?" Gent asked. "Royal Guard cigarettes are only found in one tobacco shop around here, and the clerk who runs the shop is known for interacting with his customers quite a bit. It's quite certain that the store owner has seen his face," Gunnarson explained.
20 minutes later, Gunnarson was at Crossman Tobacco, a local smoke shop and the only one around that carried Royal Guard cigarettes. They went up to the shopkeeper. "Royal Guard? Oh yes, those don't sell too much, but those who do smoke it are regular buyers. I've only got six customers that buy them, so I don't have to buy too much of them at a time. "Would you say that one of them looks like this?" Gunnarson gave the known physical descriptions. "Yeah, one of them does. Comes in here 2-3 times a week. Those Royal Guards, he can't get enough of them. Strangest thing though - the other day he threw out half a walking stick in my garbage can. There was red on it and it looked like blood, so I saved it. I was going to call the police, but when there wasn't any news of a beating, I thought it was unimportant so I held on to it," he explained. Gunnarson took out the other half; he had it on him just in case. When he put the two parts together... they fit together perfectly. "We got our man," Gunnarson smiled. "Do you know his name?" "Yes," said the man, "his na- uh- uh- eurgh!!" And he slumped to the ground. Gent and Gunnarson jumped over to help, but the man was already dead. "By Jove, Gunnarson!" cried Gent. "He's been poisoned!" "How is that even possible? We were standing here the whole time!" Gunnarson said; there was no opportunity for someone to shoot a dart at him in front of two eyewitnesses. "No!" said Gent. "Not a dart! He must have been poisoned beforehand!" "What?!" "Look at his mouth; it must have been something he ate!" Gent said. "But this man is just a tobacco store owner... and the one frequented by our killer, why would he want to kill an simple shopkeeper?" Gunnarson said, looking around the store for leads. "Possibly because he knew too much?" suggested Gent. "That must be it!" said Gunnarson. "Of course! How could I be so stupid! And look!" he cried suddenly. In the corner was a newspaper with a rather pristine shoeprint on it. He went over and looked at it. "Size 14... the same shoe we saw in the alley... he was here!" Gunnarson said. He went over to the trash can where he found a beer bottle of the same foreign brand... with another coded note inside. But this time, the decoded message on the paper was, "Gulden has double-crossed us; deal with him immediately."
"Gunnarson, look!" Gent had taken the liberty of taking a look at the handle of the cane... and found three pristine fingerprints on the handle. "We got him now; I touched it by the broken edge, so my prints are over here," Gunnarson pointed out. "I'll get them recorded immediately; good thing HQ is down the block," Gent said "But we've got bigger problems; look," Gunnarson said as he showed the note. "Good Lord; this note is ordering a kill! But who is Gulden?" Gent asked. "Why, the store owner! It's called Gulden's Tobacco." "What? I thought this was Crossman Tobacco," Gent said, as he ran outside to check the store sign again. "Sorry, Gent, I meant the man's name is Gulden; the store is called Crossman Tobacco." "Oh, I see." Gent said.
Some time later, the evidence was taken to HQ where it was recorded and secured. "We got the fingerprints successfully lifted; once we have a suspect we'll be able to do a comparison," an officer assured. Meanwhile, Gunnarson had acquired the store's ledger, and was reading through it. "Anything?" Gent asked. "Yes; I've managed to find the six names that buy Royal Guard. Take a look," Gunnarson said. Gent took a look at the ledger; the six names were underlined.
今天,先生您好 ! 你好 你好嗎 我好和你 滾你媽 這是你的對手揍你
Gunnarson and Gent stared. "Wait, that's not right," Gunnarson said. Then he saw the heading "foreign customers". "Oops, wrong group. Here's the six I was referring to," Gunnarson said.
William Cook Franz Gelb Jacob Reese Edgar Jones Heinrich Werner Samuel Elmore
"Any ring a bell to you?" Gent asked. "No," said Gunnarson, "I've never heard of them in my life."
But Gunnarson did a double take. "Wait a minute - each of these foreign names corresponds to... There's something hidden in the language!" Gunnarson realized. "You sure?" "Positive - why else keep a multi language ledger?" he pointed out. "I can get an interpreter, but I need to figure out if this is Chinese or Japanese first," Gent offered. "It looks like Chinese," said Gunnarson. "Chinese looks more like Japanese buildings, whereas Japanese looks more like random lines everywhere." "....if...you say so," said Gent.
Gent ran to the phone "get me Constable Wilkins... No! Not the one with the scar, the one who knows Chinese. The OTHER one that knows Chinese! Ok, how soon can you get him up? Thanks." And he hung up. "What was that about?" Gunnarson asked, confused. "The interpreter?" "No, the scar." "Oh, that's a very long story. Oh there you are. Gunnarson, meet Wilkins." After the greetings Wilkins got to translating. 15 minutes later, he had:
"Today, Mr. Hello! Hello there! How are you? I'm good, and you? Roll your mother! This is your opponent beat you!"
"You're fired," Gent said upon hearing the rather incoherent babble. "Wait," Gunnarson, "I get it! Someone is trying to go against us!" "Wait, what?" Gent asked; he wasn't sure he understood what Gunnarson was saying. "Yes! Someone wants to beat us, show us that we don't know anything, that we - even worse, I - aren't good detectives." "Oh, I see!" ("Damn," he thought, "Gunnarson sure is a bit vain.") "So what do we do then? Where do we start?" Gent asked. "If there is anything I can do to help..." "In fact there is something," said Gunnarson. "What is it?" "These are real names here... of real people. Let's find a way to get them all in one room. We figure out which ones do and don't match the description; we observe those who do." "We find the killer?" "Bingo," Gunnarson said. "I think I have an idea," Gent said as he went to go call in a couple favors from an old friend.
Meanwhile, Gunnarson noticed something strange. "Funny, this should be here..." "What are you looking at?" Gent asked. "This, over here," Gunnarson said. "What's wrong with it?" Gent asked. "Well, I noticed that this section of tobacco cartons should here... but they're not!" "Section of tobacco cartons? Is there a page missing?" Gent asked, not sure what Gunnarson was referring to. "No, the shelf itself is empty!" And for the first time, Gent saw it. "There was an empty shelf in the store? Maybe he just didn't restock yet." Gent suggested, deciding to approach rationally first. "Would a store owner leave half the store empty?" "Yeah mean there's more than one shelf?" "Oh, yes, I thought I said that. (My English isn't the best thing in the world.)" "Why would his store be half empty?" Gunnarson pointed out. "Maybe a delivery hadn't come in yet? It is the weekend after all," Gent suggested. "Yes, but every store owner usually buys new stuff at least a week before." "I'm going to make some arrangements. Maybe you should go back to the store and see if there is anything you missed," Gent suggested. "But it could get attacked." "I got three of my best guarding it; don't worry, it's secured," he assured.
Gunnarson went down the block, greeting the three officers guarding the store before going in. "Now, what did I miss the first time?" Gunnarson said as he looked around. Suddenly, he turned and noticed an extremely beautiful woman standing outside. "Now who is that?" She was lovely alright, but work came first for him, and he had a job to do. "Maybe I'll talk to her when I'm done here," he reasoned. After all, there had been three connected homicides this week; the man had to get caught before a fourth man fell as well. Then he realized. "Wait, what is she doing outside of here to begin with?" So he went outside to see what she wanted. "Hello, ma'am? Are you ok? This store is closed I'm afraid," he informed her. "Oh, dearie me, is it? No matter, I was looking for a Mr. Gunnarson." "Why, that is me!" "So it is! I need to speak to you in private." "Well, I am currently on a case ma'am, there have been three connected murders in two days, and I must catch the killer before he strikes again" he said to her. "Is there an urgent case you need to report?" "Yes, and you're the key witness..." said the woman. "What?" asked Gunnarson. The woman took out a pistol, aimed at Gunnarson, and fired. "Target eliminated..." said the woman as she began to flee.
It was Elvira.
|
|
|
Post by Biblically Accurate Angel on Aug 14, 2017 7:52:21 GMT -5
Chapter Four: The Arrest
The officers came running after hearing the shot. "Gunnarson's down, a shot almost piercing his heart. You two after her, and call a damn doctor, we are not losing one of Gent's finest, I'll stay here and try to stop the bleeding, now get going you two!" said the head officer. "Right!" shouted the officers as they followed Elvira.
The two officers were in hot pursuit of Elvira. She ran around a corner and as she looked back for a moment to see if she was in the clear... then she ran right into a fruit cart; slowing her down and the two were able to arrest her. "A female murderer; now I've seen everything," one officer quipped as the cuffs went on. Elvira merely grumbled.
Back with Gunnarson, the third officer was treating Gunnarson as best as he could. The doctor soon arrived. "Hmm, not as bad as it sounded, he'll be back in business in a few days." "Really?"
Meanwhile, the officers brought Elvira to the station, but seconds before she entered, the handcuffs clanged open. The men let go in surprise, and Elvira ran away. They try follow her, but could not find her, and returned to the station defeated. "It makes zero sense; I had the cuffs secured from the beginning; no one can just slip out of them," one said. "Well, we've got her face and appearance; let's go to the sketch artist so we can get her face in the papers," his friend assured. And they did.
The doctor was looking at Gunnarson. "You're extremely lucky, that item in your pocket really took the brunt of the blow, so the bullet did not penetrate much and you've mostly got bruising with some bleeding," the doctor explained. "That's good," said Gunnarson. "Phew!" said Gent. "But what was in your pocket?" "This, my friend," and he held up a steel flask. "Never drink on the job; just nice to have water on hand during long investigations," he explained.
Some time later, Gunnarson had gone home and Gent went back to HQ. "Will the favor be ready tomorrow?" he asked on the phone. "All good to go; the six men in question will be summoned to the location and all should be well." "All right; as they were the only ones who bought Royal Guard, it's got to be one of them. I'll give Gunnarson a call and let him know." "Good night Gent." He then called Gunnarson to update him. "Excellent," said Gunnarson. "When will they be there?" "11:00 tomorrow; you get some rest, we've got this," Gent assured.
Next day, the six men from the ledger showed up at the location. The first thing observed was that Franz Gelb and William Cook matched the description known. But they were better off not jumping to conclusions. The scheme was carried out. "As you know gentlemen, your local tobacco store has closed for the foreseeable future. However, we are willing to provide you all 10 free packs of Royal Guard cigarettes each. All you have to do is participate in the government's new initiative to crack down on crime. Give us your fingerprints for the records, and that's all it is. No, you are not criminals. Rather, we have them on hand so we can distinguish yours from the criminals should bad things happen."
Twenty minutes later, the scheme had worked brilliantly. "Shall I call Gunnarson sir?" an officer asked. "Yes, then see if we've got a match." Gunnarson came as soon as he got the call. "I don't advise you coming here in your condition, but since you insist, we've got the fingerprints. We're focusing on Gelb and Cook for the moment." An officer came up to Gunnarson. "Check it out - the woman that shot you last night" the police sketch was in the paper. "She's got no where to hide now; her face is everywhere."
Hours later, an officer came up to Gent. "Gelb's prints are on the cane sir; it's a match. We've also compared to the prints on the coded papers - we've got our man." The officer said. "All right, get a warrant for his arrest. Gunnarson, you go home, we've got this," Gent said.
*** Elvira was reading the paper. She came across the sketch of her face in the pages with "Wanted: Attempted Murder. £2000 Reward".
She laughed out loud. The fools! How should they have known she'd already fled the continent?
*** "What the devil?!" cried an outraged Gelb. "Franz Gelb: you are under arrest for the murder of Walter Farley and two others," Gent said. "We found the cane you tried to dispose of, and..." Gent took out the half scarf, and matched it perfectly to Gelb's ripped scarf. "It's over." Gelb said nothing as they went to the station. He was in the cell when Gent went to Gunnarson. "Blond hair, size 14, Royal Guard, fingerprints, the cane, the scarf... it's open and shut," Gent told Gunnarson.
Gunnarson decided to interview the man. He started off simply: "Did you kill him?" "Yes," replied Gelb. "All right then; tell me everything- what's with these coded notes, and how do they relate to Farley?" "Coded notes.... oh yes, those. You see, it started out like this. If I am to make you understand everything, we must go back to the beginning, so let us start when the war began - September 1939." "What happened in September 1939?" Gunnarson asked. And Gelb told him everything
*** Before Elvira had fled the British Isles, she made a phone call to her contractor that had been giving her missions. "My cover is blown and my face is in the paper; I've to get back to the continent," she said. "It's suicide; there's no air travel anywhere and the U-boats will sink any ship coming out of Britain," he warned. "I don't care; I'm leaving England until this whole thing dies - my ship is the Caledonia," she said as she hung up.
Days later, her contractor was reading the paper when he came across an article. "S.S. Caledonia sunk by German U-boat; no lifeboats found."
"I warned her," the contractor merely sighed as he went to talk to some of his other agents.
*** "Well," said Gent, "I guess that takes care of it." "Yes," said Gunnarson, "I suppose it does... but I feel that there's something missing..." He stood silent for a moment. Then suddenly he hit his hand against his head. "Oh! Triple imbecile that I've been. We're wrong! All wrong!" "Why - what do you mean?" "Not now, my friend. I must first make the arrangements. And then - we shall know all!" "Know what?" Gent asked in frustration. But Gunnarson had already left to pursue his new lead. "This is most unusual. What has gotten into him?" Gent said to himself as Gunnarson left.
20 minutes, Gunnarson had arrived where he needed to be. "Ah, here it is." He went inside...
|
|
|
Post by Biblically Accurate Angel on Aug 14, 2017 8:11:56 GMT -5
Chapter Five: And So? Next day, he came to see Gent. "My dear Inspector, would it be possible that you come to my apartment tonight at 6:00?" "Why, certainly!" "One more thing - would you mind bringing Gelb along as well?" "Er... I'll see what I can do... why?" "You'll see," winked Gunnarson.
A man of his word, Gent brought Gelb to Gunnarson's apartment. "Why are we here?" Gelb asked. "A gentleman wanted to speak to you, said it was vital," Gent said. Gelb had nothing to lose at this point, so he went along with it. That night, they went to the apartment and waited. Presently, Gunnarson returned, and with him, a man. "I see we are all here," said Gunnarson. "May I introduce you to Mr. Reginald Walters?" "Pleasure to meet you," Gent said before turning to Gunnarson. "Why is Mr Walters here?" Gent asked curiously. "You will see in due course," winked Gunnarson. "Now, I suppose you are wondering why I've gathered you together, eh?" "Yes." "The reason is because something was off with this case. The evidence was too conclusive. Everything pointed to Gelb. But why? A murderer surely would not leave so much evidence pointing at him. "Then I rethought - what if this was a set-up? What if this was a trained assassin who was always too quick for the law?" "But-" started Gelb. Gunnarson continued, "And so I realized that I, the police, we all were wrong!" Then he opened the door and led a young lady inside. "May I present to you the actual murderer?" It was Elvira.
"What? That makes no sense! Not only did Gelb confess and explain the coded notes, but there was the cane AND the scarf, plus the size 14 feet. Even if he didn't commit all three murders, he at least killed Walter Farley," Gent said. "And this Elvira you speak of- are you sure you have the right person? Because the Elvira you're thinking of went down with the Caledonia; her name was on the list published in the papers of the passenger manifest," he added. "But don't you see, my friend? It was set up to look like it was Gelb!" "WHAT?!" cried Gelb. "You loved her didn't you?" asked Gunnarson. "Yes... I did..." "Do you mean to say that this girl murdered my sister?" cried Walters. "Sister?" "I'll explain," said Gunnarson. "Thanks to the raid, the first murder - the one I witnessed - has become largely forgotten. That woman was a Mrs. Walters - this man's sister." "So that's four murders?" asked Gunnarson. "Yes... but not in the way that you think." "What do you mean?" "Elvira didn't kill Mrs. Walters... but Mr. Walters did!" "I never!" Mr Walters said in shock. "What motive could I possibly have for killing my sister?!" "And how did you survive the Caledonia?" Gent asked Elvira again, annoyed that he had been ignored the first time. Then turned to Gunnarson. "And what four murders? There was the woman, the man in the alley, and the shopkeeper," Gent reminded Gunnarson. "The fourth was an attempted murder... on myself! "Elvira had never been on board the ship. That was to throw the police off her trail. "And you! You killed your sister because she was blackmailing you. "Let us go back to the beginning of this case. I overheard someone say, 'Well, I suppose we'll have to kill her.' I thought it was some writers, but now I believe it was Mr. Walters and Elvira talking!" "What?!" "Yes, Mr. Walters was Elvira's employer!"
"What absurdity - what could my sister possibly blackmail me with?" Walters said. "Enough. Gunnarson, please continue with the events you figured out," Gent said. "It was simple, really. Regarding the blackmailing, you and your sister never got along in the first place, so when she found something that would create a scandal for you (I'm not sure what it was), you decided she needed to die." Gunnarson continued, "Now that I think about it, there was a fifth murder, a murder I wasn't able to follow up due to Ms. Walters' passing... So you must be behind it as well! But anyways, the event occurred like this..." "A fifth murder?! Who?!" "Who indeed?" Gunnarson replied, "Anyway, it was..." "Oh, Gunnarson, just do it in chronological order! It will make more sense that way!" Gent said suddenly. "So what happened just before the first murder?" "Alright! Let me say this briefly before I get all confused:
- The man (I somehow forgot his name) was murdered by Elvira.
- Mrs. Walters was murdered by Mr. Walters.
- The shopkeeper was murdered by Elvira.
- Now, murder #5, which did not succeed - Gelb."
"Me?!" "Yes! For you see, with you out of the way, Elvira and Mr. Walters could get married." *Profanities* "Well, I think I get it," said Gent. "I'll come back for the details, Gunnarson, but I better take these crooks away first." "Wait!" cried Elvira. "Before I go, I'd like to tell you there's one thing missing." "What is missing?" "The sixth crime: I - I - sank the Caledonia." "Now you're being crazy; she was sunk by a U-boat." Gent pointed out as he began taking the criminals away. "But that still doesn't explain how half of Gelb's scarf ended up in Farley's hand, or the coded notes," he pointed out as they were lead away. "Oh! the English!" cried Gunnarson, "haven't I already told you that he was framed?!" Elvira slapped Gent. "That wasn't a U-Boat, you damn inspector. I blew it up to look it was." "No, I mean your wording on the last one was confusing; was Gelb meant to be the fifth murder?" he clarified. Then he looked at Elvira. "What? But why? It was just a steamer, and a civilian one," he pointed out. "No, I mean," said Gunnarson, "that Gelb was framed and found guilty... and hung! That would have been the fifth murder." "But then, why would Gelb confess to a crime he did not commit?" Gent asked; it was the one missing piece of the puzzle "I told you already - he loved Elvira!" "What wasn't Ms. Walters quoted as being shot then a group of Germans came towards you before the raid occurred, and weren't you the star witness to that one as well?" asked Gent even more confused "Yes, but the raid was staged!"
Deciding that this case had gone on long enough, Gent took away Elvira ad Reginald and let Gelb go. "Tell me, why go through the effort to stage a raid when you apparently killed her anyway?" Gent asked once they were in their cells. "So that it would look like she was killed in the raid."
*** "Thank you," said Gelb, "but..." "I understand. Men hålla humöret upp. Your wounds will heal in time..."
THE END
|
|