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Post by Biblically Accurate Angel on Aug 14, 2017 18:58:59 GMT -5
Literary Mosaic 5
The Past Never Truly Dies
Introduction One evening, Gunnarson had arrived home to his apartment rather late, so much so he had not even collected the mail. He was just walking home, talking to a friend."And after that case, my reputation really took off. I regret that we had to kill the dog, but it was probably for the best; training like that is very hard to undo," the man said as he walked with Gunnarson to the main door of the apartment."Oh, I understand, my friend. Killing animals in that matter is something I wish I never have to do; but in this case it sounds like self defense," Gunnarson observed."Well, good night; I'd better get some rest; heaven knows if my expertise will be needed again," the man said."Indeed; good night, Stein," Gunnarson said as Stein went to go home. Gunnarson went to his mailbox and pulled out a few letters. Most unusual to him, one did not have a return address. But it was clearly addressed to him. "that's odd; who is this?" Gunnarson said as he walked up to his apartment. As he sat down he opened it, and proceeded to read.Dear Gunnarson,
If you are reading this, then the first thing I want to let you know is that this is the last time you will be hearing from me. After our encounter some months ago, you probably see me as a murderer, and nothing less. The evidence pointed to me, and you thought that I killed Dr. Manning. Well, I did not lie to you when I said that he blackmailed me during my college days. He threatened not to pass me if I did not do certain work for his research; then he would not even give me credit. Believe me, I wanted to kill him, but whether or not I did... everything is a blur now, so I cannot say.
Anyway, just wanted to say I'm sorry for any trouble I caused you. We will never meet again, I'm afraid. But I know how brilliant a detective you are, so I have taken the liberty of not including a return address on this envelope. Gotta say, I'm impressed I did not have any problems getting it out. Anyway, there will be no future contact between the two of us, so don't bother looking for me. I presume you get a lot of case work anyway, so that should not be a problem. By the way, that article you saw in the paper... it's fake; turns out with enough money you can pay an editor to publish just about anything.
Sincerely,
James Hartley Gunnarson was shocked and angered. "Hartley!? Alive!? Unbelievable! Well, that scoundrel will not escape justice. What was it he said... ah, yes, his brother's family in Scotland. I suppose I can... wait, he never said what part of Scotland, or what his brother's name was, helvete! I've got no leads apart from this letter!" Gunnarson then looked at the clock and saw how late it was."Bother. Guess I will have to sleep on it," he said to himself as he went to get ready for bed.*** In a humble house in Glasgow, Scotland there was the family of Roger Hartley, his wife and 3 children. But James Hartley, his brother, was also taking residence there for now."Thanks again for taking me in; if my house had not been bombed, I wouldn't ask you for the trouble," James explained."It's no trouble at all dear; Roger would have done the same. I would have just sent the kids up here with my sister, but I could not bear the thought of them losing me if a bomb hit our house, so Roger said to move up here. And it's worked out since the family is up here as well," Mrs. Hartley explained."I'll do what I can to help; it's the least I can do," Hartley told her.*** The next morning, Gunnarson woke up and as he was making breakfast he went to read the morning paper. He was surprised to see that the assassin case he worked on was on the front page. But what he read was not what he wanted to hear:BREAKTHROUGH IN ASSASSIN CASE: ONE RELEASED, ONE FACES TRIAL, ONE COMMITTED The tragic deaths of Ms. Emily Walters, Mr. Walter Farley and Mr. Eric Gulden are finally being avenged by the UK justice system. At first, it was believed that the murderers of the three were Mr. Reginald Walters, brother of Ms. Walters, and Elvira Revinev, a trained assassin with no known allegiance other than her employer. The theory was that they had been killed because Mr. Walters and Elvira loved each other, and they stood in the way of their marriage. However, this theory was proven completely wrong when Crown Prosecutor Henry Taylor re-examined the evidence of the case, and found a very different story had taken place.
"There is absolutely no evidence of any kind suggesting that there was any love between the two," Taylor said of the case. "In fact, the notion that evidence was planted to frame the true murderer, Mr. Franz Gelb, is utterly preposterous."
An outside consultant to Scotland Yard, Adolf Gunnarson, claimed that Gelb was willing to take Elvira's fall because he loved her, and Elvira framed him with various pieces of evidence. But this theory, Taylor says, is utterly baseless and not supported by the evidence.
"The bullet casing found at the crime scene was taken to the forensic unit and analyzed. It was found to have been fired by Gelb's gun, not Elvira's. Furthermore, blonde hair and some skin was found underneath Farley's fingernails. When we looked at photographs of Gelb taken the day after the murder, he had scars on the side of his head consistent with a man taking his fingernails and scrapping them against his head," Taylor told the press. Finally, the notion that Elvira killed Farley was also prove false, as four eyewitnesses have come forward; all say they saw the murder take place, and witnessed a 'large blonde man' fight Farley, and not a petite, brown haired woman, like Elvira. Franz Gelb was subsequently arrested, and faces trial for murdering Mr. Farley, and being an accomplice to the death of Ms. Walters and Mr. Gulden. "Our current theory is that, since Farley and Walters worked for the government, this was espionage against the UK, and Gulden was unfortunately an innocent bystander who had to be killed because he overheard too much," Taylor explained.
The consultant Gunnarson also proposed that the raid where Ms. Walters was killed was staged, and Mr. Walters in fact killed her. This was found to be not true, as no evidence was found at the crime scene linking Mr. Walters to her death. With nothing on him, Mr. Walters walked out a free man today.
Elvira poisoned Gulden, and attempted to murder another man. Though she has confessed, she will not face trial. Two leading psychologists have assessed her, and found her to be "mentally unfit" for trial. Dr. William Hyde explained, "She was supposed to sail on the S.S. Caledonia, the ship torpedoed by a U-boat several weeks ago. Her survivor's guilt is now manifesting itself as a series of confessions to crimes she has not committed, including sinking the Caledonia, which is impossible."
The Caledonia was initially reported to have had no survivors. However, the next day the area was visited by a destroyer flotilla, where 273 swimmers were found and rescued. Most all testified to the same thing: witnessing a periscope in the water, seeing a bubble trail, and a giant plume of water hitting going up the side of the ship; all tell tale signs of a U-boat strike.
In short, Ms. Walters was killed in a raid, and unfortunately it may be months before her killers are found. Elvira has been committed to Broadmoor Hospital for the "prolonged future" and Mr. Walters walks free, more than likely having no connection to this case.
As for Mr. Gunnarson, Henry Taylor announced that he is opening an investigation into him, citing that "it is a bit too convenient that Gunnarson happened to have the murderers willingly appear in his apartment and convince them to be arrested." Taylor hopes to get Gunnarson on conspiracy charges. Gunnarson fumed. "Are you kidding me?! Gelb arrested, Mr. Walters free! This is absurd!"Gunnarson went to his phone and called Taylor's office."Hello?" Taylor said on his end."Vad i helvete are you thinking!? You're about to prosecute an innocent man!" Gunnarson said."Who is this?" Taylor asked."Adolf Gunnarson, the detective who solved the assassin case!" "You mean the incompetent monkey who misled us! I'm on to you, Swede; there is no way your theory is correct. Gelb is facing trial and there is nothing you can do about it," Taylor informed."Yes there is, I'm going to talk to the defense attorney and will testify on his behalf," Gunnarson informed."Oh, now you're willing to testify" Taylor said sarcastically. "Oh wait, you can't! I've already filed a motion to suppress any and all testimony or evidence submitted by you!" Taylor informed."What?! Why?" an enraged Gunnarson said."On the grounds that your competence is questionable and your credentials are nonexistent!" Taylor fumed. "You have no business in this line of work! Don't think I have forgotten the Dawes case!" Taylor reminded him."I'm telling you they did it! The car was not parked quite right, proving...""NOTHING!!" Taylor informed. "You never find physical evidence, you always base everything on theories and assumptions, and ignore what is right in front of you. Face it Gunnarson, Reginald Walters is a free man, Franz Gelb is going to prison, Elvira Revinev is being committed and there is NOTHING you can do about it!" Taylor said as he hung up."Den jรคvla Taylor...I'll show him," Gunnarson said to himself. But first he went to finish breakfast.*** In Taylor's office, he suddenly smiled. "So you see, the reason I asked you to come down here, Inspector, is because of that man. I think you are the best man for this job with your credentials. I want you to look into him, and find anything that connects him to anything criminal. Given this special assignment, I have told Gent that you will answer to me alone; it is best he remains out of the loop here. Do you understand?" Taylor asked."Yes, I do," the man said."Well, Inspector James Japp, best get to work. The sooner we catch him, the sooner we can lock him up with the others," Taylor said."Will do," and Inspector Japp left the office.*** In Broadmoor hospital, doctors were talking to Elvira in one room, while others looked on from another."How are we treating this basket case?" one asked."We'll try some simple therapy for now, involving talking to her and trying to reason with her; but if it does not work, we'll resort to Dr. Drugg and his 'cocktails' to treat her," his companion replied.One doctor spoke up. "What if she tries to seduce her way out of here? I've read her file and...""We prepared for that. We've taken the liberty of shaving her hair off and we're not letting her wear makeup. She won't have that tool at her disposal," he explained.Just then, they saw her freak out, and lunge across the table. She was restrained and took a couple blows from one of the people restraining her."And from the looks of it... she's got a black eye and a broken nose now," he observed, cringing at what he just witnessed.They were forced to restrain her, and take her back to her room.*** "So you see, my friend, he may not be an official detective, but I trust him no matter what," Gent explained."I see. Same with me. The good fellow may not work for me officially, but I trust him and he has solved many cases. He should get a movie made about him," the man quipped."Guess it goes to show it is not a badge that makes you a good detective; it is one's character that does," Gent observed."Well, I had better get back to work. Have a good day Gent," the man said."You too, Superintendent Battle" Gent said as Battle turned around and walked out the door.Just then, he got a call on his phone."Hello? Yes? All right, I have just the man for the job. Please, let me send you his address," and Gent talked to the person on the phone.*** Back at Gunnarson's apartment, he was meeting with someone; he had come to the door to ask some questions."And you are certain that there has not been any German activity around here?" the gentleman asked."No; looks like the army did a fine job breaking up the German spy ring indeed," Gunnarson observed."In that case, I think my work here is done," the gentleman said as he stood up and went to leave."Thank you Mr...""Hastings. Captain Arthur Hastings. Now if you excuse me there is an old friend I need to meet with" Hastings said as he went to leave."Well, he was pleasant. Say, I wonder what else is in the paper?" Gunnarson read the next article.DR. CALVIN POIRIER CONFESSES; DR. MANNING'S MURDERER BROUGHT TO JUSTICE Earlier this week, French Dr. Calvin Poirier confessed to the murder of Dr. Herbert Manning, a case which had gone unsolved for several months now. Though initially unsure of who killed Dr. Manning, the breakthrough in the case was when a walking stick with the initials C.P. was found at the crime scene. Dr. Poirier admitted that it was his, and he had left it there because him and Dr. Manning had "gotten into a fight, and, enraged, threw [his] stick at the man and stormed off." But when confronted with the fact Dr. Manning was found dead, he confessed and now awaits trial. However, he plans to plead guilty, saying he "feels extreme remorse over the death of his friend." "What? NO! It was Hartley! HARTLEY!" Gunnarson said. "Can this day get ANY WORSE!" he fumed.Just then, a brick flew through his window and landed near him. He looked outside to see some Irishmen looking angry at him, then turning and walking away. Gunnarson went to pick up the brick, and read the note attached to it.
"You messed with our plans, now we'll get back at you. The Irish mob will not forgive you for what you did. You have been warned." "Oh dear," Gunnarson said to himself. Then, his phone rang."Gunnarson?" the voice said."Gent?" Gunnarson asked."Yes, there's been a murder/burglary, and you seem to be the best man for this case. I've given the man your address. I'd like you to solve that case for me; my men are swamped and can't take on another one right now.""I've been having a terrible morning Gent; thanks, this is a most welcome reprieve," he said. Then he compiled a list of everything he had to do:Manning case- Find James Hartley and bring him to justice.
- Clear Dr. Poirier of Manning's murder
Assassin case- Go talk to Elvira at Broadmoor
- Go talk to Gelb in prison
- Find evidence to prove innocence and guilt properly
Gadfrey case- Do something about the Mob
- Find Blade and his surviving men
New case- Find out what happened and solve it
"Now, where should I begin?" Gunnarson said to himself; there was a lot to do...
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Post by Biblically Accurate Angel on Aug 15, 2017 23:55:21 GMT -5
Chapter One: Play Our Hand There was a knock at the door. Gunnarson opened it. There in front of him stood a short, plump man with a fancy black mustache. "Mon dieu! We really do look a lot alike. Were it not for the haircolor..." "Um... hello?" said a confused Gunnarson. "Hello, I've read through the newspaper about your cases, and I feel that you are right. But we need proof, and I've decided to help you." "Who are you?" Gunnarson was even more confused. "I am Monsieur Hercule Poirot." Gunnarson thought it over... where had he heard that name before? Wait a minute... he thought to himself. He was the detective who worked on that Orient Express case. Gunnarson had read about it, but the case didn't seem as straightforward as the papers said, so he had dug dug deeper. From what he could find out about him, apparently, Poirot let the murderers go, blaming it on a gangster or some such, when in fact it was all thirteen passengers on the coach. (It was hard for Gunnarson to find out much of what happened, so he took some bits and pieces he could find and stitched them together.) "Ah yes, I've heard of you, you were the one who..."
But he was cut off mid-sentence when suddenly Captain Hastings came to the door again. "Ah, Poirot, there you are! I've been looking for you," he said as he came up to him. "Ah, mon ami, you are back from Argentina, no?" "Yes, I had some business to do here, Cinder is taking care of our ranch in the meantime." "Oh, Captain Hastings; you are familiar with Poirot, I presume?" Gunnarson asked. Not even fifteen minutes ago, Hastings had been in Gunnarson's apartment, asking about enemy activity in the area. "Wait, ranch? It sounded like you were in the army or something," Gunnarson asked, confused. "Well, I was... back in The Great War," Hastings admitted. "But now I live on a ranch in Argentina with my wife and kids. I still come back every now and then, and always check in on Poirot here." "Well, you certainly picked a good time to return; your friend here just volunteered to help me with some cases," Gunnarson explained. "Ah yes, he is quite good with cases; can't think of one he hasn't solved," Hastings said. "I'm sure you can't," Gunnarson said. He was still thinking about the Orient Express case. "Seriously; how do you let 13 murderers just walk?" he said to himself. "Pardon?" Poirot asked. "Oh, uh, I was just thinking and finally remembered... you were the one who solved that Orient Express murder, weren't you?" Gunnarson asked. "Why yes; you are familiar with it?" Poirot asked. "I've read on it," Gunnarson said, but somewhat unsure of Poirot still. "You see, the thing was, the victim had kidnapped and murdered a young baby girl even after the parents paid the ransom. These people were avenging the crime, and personally, I'm on their side, as were the other people in charge." "I just remembered!" cried Hastings, who hadn't been paying attention. "What?" "The Chocolate Box!" "The what?" a confused Gunnarson asked. "Mon ami, don't tell me you've come all this way just to buy your wife a box of chocolates," Poirot said, also surprised by that outburst. "No, Poirot, remember? That was the one case you couldn't solve." "It wa... oh, yes. That one." "What happened?" asked Gunnarson. "Er, you don't want to know, it was boring, it was-" "Chocolate box," whispered Hastings. "Stop that!" said Poirot. "You told me to whisper those words in your ear whenever you got to be too sure of yourself." "RIGHT, RIGHT! Well, how's about we get straight to business, yes? Every minute counts, and from that list you wrote it seems that a lot on your platter," Poirot observed.
Gunnarson picked it up. "Well, I suppose we'll start from the beginning. And by that I mean the Manning case," Gunnarson explained. "Well, it seems you've got a proper detective to work with this time, so does this mean I should take my leave?" Hastings asked. "Unless Gunnarson prefers you gone, I'd rather you stayed around. You've helped me before on some of my cases." "Well, If he can be of help to you, I suppose he can stick around for now" Gunnarson decided. He went to the table and picked up the letter. "Dr. Herbert Manning was killed by a former medical student of his, James Hartley," Gunnarson explained as he picked up the letter. "Medical student? That does explain the stab I heard about," Poirot said. "Correct. The meal of Merlot and escargo indicated to me that the murderer was someone Manning trusted, and was in his inner circle." Gunnarson continued. "Though I read the papers this morning; Dr. Poirier's cane places him at the crime scene, not this Hartley fellow," Poirot said, picking up Gunnarson's newspaper. "I know, but the thing is... but the thing is... but the thing... WAIT A MINUTE!" And Gunnarson suddenly left the room. When he came back he was jumping up and down. "I was wrong with that case, it was Poirier after all. But there is a hand here that has not been shown." And he wrote a name on a piece of paper and showed it to Poirot and Hastings. "Mon Dieu!" exclaimed Poirot. "It makes sense!" "You don't mean..." said Hastings. "Yes," said Gunnarson, "but we must play our hand carefully..."
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Post by Biblically Accurate Angel on Aug 16, 2017 1:16:28 GMT -5
Chapter Two: The Return of Hartley Off in Scotland, Hartley was out for a walk, when he ran into none other than... "Gunnaron?!" "Hello, Hartley," Gunnarson said. Hartley lost his footing and fell down. "H-how did you find me? I did not leave a return address on the envelope!" Hartley exclaimed. "I had an old friend of mine find out... you won't believe the things he's been able to tell me within an hour."
*** "I need your help finding someone," said Gunnarson to the man. "Ah, yes," said the man. "Who is it?" "James Hartley. He's in Scotland, I presume with his brother going off of the information he told me." "I'll get my men on it right away. Expect the information within 24 hours." "I'm still surprised you don't accept payment from me." "I'm still grateful for the good turn you gave me that one time... were it not for you, I'd still be rotting in jail now." "As always, I'm much appreciated, Jackson," said Gunnarson...
*** "B-but, why are you here?!" cried Hartley. "I need to talk to you. Turns out there is something important I need your help with," Gunnarson said. "Oh no, I'm not falling for that; you want to take me somewhere to lead me to the authorities. I may have gotten caught up in your explanation when you did the means, motive, opportunity thing to me, but the truth is I did not do it," Hartley said firmly. "I know, I was wrong. I do believe you." "Y-you do?!" "After some new information came to light, it turns out I was wrong about the cane. It wasn't Manning's like you said; it was Dr. Poirier's cane, and he confessed to the murder," Gunnarson explained. "Ok, but what does that have to do with me?" Hartley asked.
Some distance away, a man standing around casually, was carefully listening in on Gunnarson's conversation. "So he has a habit of accusing the wrong people... interesting..." Inspector Japp said to himself. "Oh, hello, Japp." "Wha-! Oh, hello, Poirot." "Japp, I need your help." "Ah, finally turning to the right person, eh?" "No, I needed someone stupid like you to be my guinea pig." "Huh?" "I'm only joking. Anyway, what I need from you is; wait a minute, aren't you out of jurisdiction?" Poirot asked. "Special assignment from the crown prosecutor's office; investigating a suspect," Japp said. "What brings you here?" "Like I said, I came to find you." "Really?" "Yes." "How did you find me?" "Superintendent Battle owed me a favor. He knew you were on a case and told me that you were heading up this way," Poirot said. "So what is it you need?" asked Japp. "25 pounds - you still owe me from that card game!"
As they were talking, Gunnarson and Hartley continued their conversation. "So what is it you need me for? I can't exactly go anywhere now, I'm helping out my brother's family at his house" Hartley explained. "They'll be taken care of. I really need you." "But why?" Gunnarson sighed. "I really need a friend right now. You're the only one I can think of. I need a partner, and someone who can put his faith in me even when the world doesn't. I know I blamed you wrongly, but would you please come back with me and help me out?" "Well... I suppose I can. Since the real criminal has been caught and my name cleared, I really don't have a reason to hate you anymore. Ok, I'll just go get my things at the house and I'll be ready to go," Hartley said as he went back to his brother's house.
*** "But why do you have to go?" Mrs Hartley asked, confused. "Got an interesting business offer back in England; I think it might really help out," James Hartley explained. "Well, I wish you best of luck, James."
*** When Gunnarson and Hartley arrived back in England, they finally were able to get a proper introduction to their new companions. "Hartley, this is Hercule Poirot and Arthur Hastings; they will be assisting me in this investigation," Gunnarson explained. "Hello," Hartley said to the two of them. "I apologize we could not properly introduce ourselves in Scotland; something came up and we had to wait till we came back down here," Poirot explained. "Understandable. So what is the current investigation?" Hartley asked. "Well, it seems that my biggest cases from the last few months are coming back to haunt me; plus my new one, a burglary/homicide," Gunnarson explained. "Hmm, that doesn't sound good. What happened?" "Well, it is best to tackle this one hurdle at a time, and right now we are dealing with the Manning case," Gunnarson explained. "What about it? Calvin is in jail," Hartley reminded him. "Yes, but I can't help but think there is something else here," Gunnarson said. "What? Calvin stabbed Dr. Manning and that was it," Hartley said, confused. "Yes it was... but why did the 'new' evidence appear only now?" "New evidence?" Hartley asked. "There was the Merlot, escargot, the cane, the knife and the left handed thing. What did we miss?" "Er, I phrased that wrong. I meant the cane; it wasn't Dr. Manning's. It was Poirier's. Why wasn't this brought up until now?" "I was surprised that it did not come up sooner, to be honest... you'd think the C.P. would have been a giveaway," Hartley said. "So you're suggesting that there was a third party involved here?" "Yes," Gunnarson replied. "Well then, what is stopping us from going after this third party and getting this case over with?" Hartley asked. "The thing is, they're a respected citizen, and we need to play our hand carefully. For now, let's go to the scene of the latest crime..."
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Post by Biblically Accurate Angel on Aug 18, 2017 17:02:39 GMT -5
Chapter Three: The Crime Scene They headed down to the address given to them. The four men entered the crime scene as an officer briefed them on the situation. "Name is Jacob Edwards. Found dead in his office, presumed burglary gone wrong. Bullet through the forehead, safe open and emptied, and the broken window." Gunnarson looked at the broken window as the officer kept talking. "In short, the burglar... it could be anyone," he explained. "No. This was an inside job," Gunnarson said. "Why say that?" Hartley asked. "Look; there is more broken glass outside the window than inside this room, indicating that the person broke out, not in. Whoever it was, it was someone who knew Edwards, and trusted him enough to get him to open his safe and let him into his own house," Gunnarson explained. "Hmm... who were his closest friends?" The police officer answered, "There was his wife, Rosalyn Edwards, his son, Johnson Edwards, his poker pals... but you might want to check out his address book." Poirot opened it. "Let's see, Jackson Browne, David Mustaine, Keith Moon, and... MON DIEU!" It was the name of the third party. "Wait a second, are you saying that this man, who was involved with Manning's death, was friends with another murder victim?" Hastings asked. "But that doesn't actually prove anything; what other evidence can we find here?" Hartley asked.
Gunnarson looked around the room and found... a smoking gun, literally. Just under the desk, he found a .38 revolver, and when he opened the chamber, one round had been fired. He smelled the end of the barrel... it had recently been fired. "Gentlemen, we have our smoking gun," Gunnarson said. "Really?" Hartley asked. "Yes, really; our murder weapon, right here," Gunnarson showed them. "Oh, terribly sorry, thought you were telling a bad joke," Hartley said. "What?" a confused Gunnarson asked. "Never mind," Hartley quickly followed with. Poirot inspected it. "Hmm. It doesn't tell us much right now, except where it was placed." "Why is that?" asked Hastings. "We're dealing with a rather intelligent man," Poirot observed. "He tried to hide the murder weapon, rather than run off with it." He then looked it over. "But look at this gun; the ivory handle, the silver plating; this is a custom-order, very distinct. This was special made for a particular client. You need to order these special, and if I am not mistaken," Poirot turned the gun over to look at the bottom of the grip, and sure enough, there were the initials "L.C." in a fancy script. "Ah yes, personalized with initials; makes it more distinct you know," Poirot observed. "Either this gun belongs to the killer with these initials, or it was stolen from a man with these initials." "But no!" said Gunnarson. "Why would he leave it behind with his initials on it? That narrows it down somewhat at least. No, I think they aren't his initials, he used fake ones instead."
Just then an officer came up and said, "Hey, those four aren't cleared to be on the crime scene! I have orders from Prosecutor Taylor to escort them off, especially the blonde one!" Before a group of officers could remove Gunnarson and his crew, an unfamiliar voice responded, "It's alright, they've been cleared, come look for yourself." The officer came over to the man and saw all the right paperwork, and then said, "Seems in order, let them go, boys, and back to what they were doing." Gunnarson and his crew were let go and went up to the man, who was revealed to have a partner. "Thank you gentlemen, now who might you two be?" asked Gunnarson. "Oh sorry, we haven't introduced ourselves, I'm Cpt. Jeremy Conrad and my partner is Lt. Eric Johnson, we work with your friend Detective Stein. He sent us to come help you after he heard the news your skills were being called into question. He would have come himself, but he got a call on a new case in the country involving a banshee and a milkmaid so he had to leave this morning and asked us to stay behind and help. We're basically here to help you get access to places legally with Scotland Yard's help, and Stein even filled out your paperwork allowing you access to the criminals in custody for the Assassin's case to not being able to physically be with you in this time of need." answered Conrad. "Well thank you gentlemen, anyways, back to the cases at hand, mind tagging along with us you two?" asked Gunnarson. "Not at all," replied Johnson as the group got back to the case at hand.
"Anyway, this brick; just feel it. There is something hidden in here," Hartley said. "Okay, so how do we open it?" Gunnarson asked. "Like this," said Johnson, and he dropped the brick on the floor, smashing it. Conrad facepalmed. "Nice going, Blunderbuss...." "Anyway, you gentlemen best step aside while I take a look through the fragments to find what was in here," Gunnarson said as he began sifting through the broken pieces.
*** Poirot and Hastings had taken a cab and arrived at the gun store in question. They came up to the clerk. "We are investigating a murder; we have reason to believe the owner of a custom weapon may be linked," he said. "Anything I can do to help; what was the gun?" ".38 revolver; silver plating, ivory handle. Initials L.C. on the bottom." The gun store owner took out a ledger and looked through the names, serial numbers and customizing. "Ah, yes, that one. Ordered by a... Mr. Lawrence Cook." "Lawrence Cook? Thank you. We'd best get back to the crime scene and tell Gunnarson," Poirot said. "Let's hurry," Hastings said as they took off.
Meanwhile at the crime scene... "Let's see... ah, what have we here?" Gunnarson said. "What is it?" asked Hartley. Inside the brick was a key, with the number 28 on it, and a small, metal figurine. It looked like a soldier. "Why would he keep these things hidden?" Gunnarson asked himself. "Hey, I've seen this type of key before... It's for a lock box at the Barclay's Bank in Sutton!" said Johnson. "Then maybe we'll find our answers there. Hartley, you stay here with Johnson, Conrad and I will go investigate the lockbox, we might need Scotland Yard's authority for access to it," said Gunnarson. "Right!" replied Hartley as Gunnarson and Conrad left for Barclay's Bank.
Just then, Poirot and Hastings returned. "Where's Gunnarson?" asked Poirot. "You just missed him, he and Conrad went to follow up on another clue," answered Johnson. "Eh?"
*** Gunnarson and Conrad soon arrived at the bank, they were let in relatively easily with Conrad's credentials. "Now let's see this lock box, shall we?" said Gunnarson. "Yes, right this way sirs," replied the teller as he took the duo to the vault where they kept the boxes. "Lock box 28; right here," the teller said as he came to the box in question. They took it out and proceeded to look through it. "Looks like there's a fair deal of stuff in here; where do we start?" Conrad asked.
*** "So what did you two find out?" Johnson asked. "Well the L.C. on the gun is a Mr. Lawrence Cook, which means he either owns the gun and had it stolen, or he is the killer," Poirot explained. "Check the address book again," Johnson said. They looked through the book in question... and low and behold, there was an address and phone number for a Mr. Lawrence Cook. "Should we give him a call?" Hastings asked. "No," Poirot replied. "Why not?" Hastings asked. "I think it might be a better idea to meet him in person... unannounced..." said Poirot "Alright, Hastings and Poirot can go check out his address, while Hartley and I will stay here and wait for Gunnarson and Conrad to return," said Johnson as the others agreed and Hastings and Poirot left the crime scene.
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Post by Biblically Accurate Angel on Aug 18, 2017 22:55:24 GMT -5
Chapter Four Alpha, Delta, and Lawrence Cook "Where do we start?" asked Conrad."Probably with anything that looks suspicious - like this," said Gunnarson as he pointed towards another little metal soldier, just like the one from the brick."Another one?" a confused Conrad asked."There seems to be a pattern here," Gunnarson observed."Could these soldiers be apart of some sort of war game, or even just for display? We might want to check out a few toy shops later. Anyways, let's shift through the rest of this," said Gunnarson as the duo continued to search the box.Gunnarson soon stopped his eyes on pieces of paper that looked strangely familiar."Hey, do they have some sort of code on them?" asked Conrad."Wait... I've seen this code before... It was on the papers in the Farley Case!" shouted Gunnarson."Wait you mean the one with the Assassin... I heard you and Gent cracked that code, so what do these papers say then?" asked Conrad."They say:"Alpha- The valuables are mine. Epsilon had to be killed, but the safe was opened and we have what we were looking for. Meet me at 2000 at 30 Caldwell Street, then we can cash them in.
-Delta "Assuming Epsilon is Edwards... this note was left by 'Delta' to alert 'Alpha' that he stolen the goods, but he did not intend to kill Edwards," Gunnarson concluded."So Delta is the burglar and murderer, and Alpha is the accomplice?""Correct." "So what do we do?" Conrad asked.Just then, an man walked in with a different teller from before "Yes, box 38 should be right over here and... wait a minute, do you know them?" he asked."Halt! You're under arrest!" Conrad shouted. "Alpha" ran out the door as Gunnarson and Conrad gave chase.*** Johnson had agreed to keep an eye on the scene, and anything of interest would be saved if found. Poirot and Hastings made their way to Mr. Cook's address. They soon arrived and knocked on the door."Hello? Hello, Mr. Cook? We would like to have a world with you," Poirot called. The door opened."Yes?" the man asked."Hello, we are from the Westinghouse Bullet Company, and were wondering if you'd like to order some bullets from us anytime soon. We're making a survey.""What?" whispered Hastings."Trust me, if you want information, don't ask for it outright!""But the gun store...""Different circumstances," Poirot clarified. "So sir, do you own a firearm?""Yes," Cook replied."Very good. Now, is it a recent purchase, or have you had it a long time?""I've had it a little over a year.""Do you prefer to keep ammunition on hand, or buy as needed?""I keep about 30 rounds on hand for my revolver; .38s are not that big so the rounds are cheap," Cook replied."Could we see the gun? That way we can figure out the best ammunition for it.""Sure thing." And he should them a plain-looking revolver."You don't have anything else, do you?""Nope.""All right, I'm going to be honest with you - I'm a detective, Hercule Poirot.""THE Hercule Poirot?!""Yes.""Wow! What an honor.""We need you to come to the gun store. Don't worry, you won't be arrested.""Sure thing. Let me get my hat."At the gun store...."No, that's not the Lawrence Cook I sold the gun to.""I see. What about him?" And Poirot opened a newspaper and showed the man the picture."That's the one!" exclaimed the owner. "That's the Lawrence Cook I sold it to!""Hmm... this is getting very interesting," said Poirot."I'm not sure I understand; are you saying that someone else bought a gun as Cook?" Hastings asked."Someone bought a gun in my name?!" a shocked Cook said."Yes; they want to mislead us," Poirot observed."But who... Is it the third party?" Hastings asked."Indeed it is." And Poirot showed Hastings the picture of the man who bought the gun. "We'll really need to play our hand carefully...."*** Gunnarson and Conrad were chasing "Alpha" after a pure chance encounter at the bank."Oh no, you're not getting away!" And Conrad suddenly lunged forward and tackled "Alpha" and immediately threw the cuffs on."You're under arrest for accessory to murder and burglary.""What? No, that's impossible; we just wanted what was in the safe!" "Alpha" said in confusion."Don't play games with us; Edwards was found murdered in his apartment," Gunnarson informed as he walked up to him."What?! The bastard actually killed him?! Damn...""Now who's your accomplice?""You'll get nothin' outta me!""Doesn't matter; we have a time and place, so we'll just ambush him," Gunnarson informed as he and Conrad took the man away. Some time later, Poirot, Hastings, Gunnarson and Hartley all regrouped at a local pub to get on the same page."We managed to catch an accomplice, but the actual killer is still on the loose," Gunnarson explained."And we found that the third party from the Manning case bought the gun used to kill Edwards," Poirot said."But that doesn't actually tell us if he's the killer," Hartley pointed out."It doesn't, but it certainly seems suspicious," Gunnarson explained."So what's next?" Hastings asked."We have a time and a place for the killer to appear, but perhaps it'd be better to wait until the trial," Poirot suggested."What? We have the perfect opportunity to ambush him; why wait for the trial?" Gunnarson asked."Which trial?" an even more confused Hartley asked."Gunnarson will be going on trial for his cases," replied Poirot. "Taylor will be prosecuting him, and he's going to have to defend himself and his cases. What I think we should do, is station someone at the scene, and when the man comes, take a picture of him, and then bring it out at the trial," Poirot said."That's a terrible idea! We have to confront him or no one will believe a word of it," Hartley argued. "Besides, there is no guarantee he will come to the trial!" he added."I'm with Hartley on this one, confronting him is the best way to go," Gunnarson added. "However, I will give credit to Poirot on his second point - call it a hunch, but I'm fairly certain he will be there.""Please, trust me on this," Poirot asked."Now hold on - what was that first thing you said?" Gunnarson asked."Taylor has sent someone to investigate you; like the paper said, he wants to press charges against you, but he's going to get proof first," Poirot said."Who?" Gunnarson asked."Not sure; all I know is he's circumventing Gent and Battle by having the inspector on your case only answer to him," Pourot explained."The fact that you haven't been arrested yet is a good sign; he's still looking for evidence," Hastings added."Plus he's working on the assassin case, so his hands are full right now," Hartley reminded Gunnarson.However, they had spoken too soon. Two police officers walked in. "Mr. Gunnarson, you're under arrest."But Gunnarson saw something was off with the officers."On what charge?" Gunnarson asked."He's resisting! Shoot him!" One said, his cockney accent suddenly turned into an Irish one.But Gunnarson was quicker; he flipped the table onto them and had them held down by Hartley and Hastings."So, thought you could pass yourselfs off as officers, huh? You nearly succeeded too, but you messed up on one detail with your costumes - no two officers have the same badge numbers. You are from the Irish Mob, I presume?" Gunnarson surmised."We said we'd get back at you; you'll pay for your interference!" one fumed."What is that about?" Poirot asked."A while back I ticked off some Irish mobsters during the Gadfrey case; seems they are all too eager to get me," Gunnarson explained.Hastings went to call the police while the others held the fake cops down.*** In Taylor's office, Inspector Japp was reporting to the crown prosecutor."Have you found anything on Gunnarson yet?" he asked."I have found some things, but nowhere near enough to get an arrest warrant," Japp explained."Damn; normally I would say let's go for it, but considering the man we are dealing with here, I would rather play it cautiously. There's enough for me right now with Gelb's prosecution, so don't worry, you've got plenty of time before I will request you to get a warrant," Taylor explained."I'll get back to it." And Japp left the office.
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Post by Biblically Accurate Angel on Nov 7, 2017 23:14:21 GMT -5
Chapter Five: Two Women and a Stakeout Back at the pub, Gunnarson and the others were talking. "Maybe we should direct our attention to the Assassin case right now? Gelb's prosecution begins tomorrow," Hartley reminded Gunnarson. "And your friend Stein did get you clearance to speak to the suspects in police custody, but Walters is another story," added Poirot. "You're right," replied Gunnarson. "Hey, what about us?" asked one of the members of the Irish Mob. "Don't worry, we'll take care of you two," replied Hastings.
*** A little while later, Conrad and Johnson were at the pub with a squad car ready to take the two mobsters away. "I see you're going to work on the Assassin Case, eh? We'll do you a favor, Johnson and I will look into the Mob and see if we can track down Blade and his crew, and then we'll report back to you. Sound good?" asked Conrad. "Alright, that sounds great, contact us if you find anything!" replied Gunnarson. "Will do!" responded Johnson as the duo drove the mobsters back to the station. "Now where were we?" "Well, we can't actually contribute to the case, since Taylor filed a motion to suppress any evidence and testimony submitted by me. But what we can do is conduct a separate and parallel investigation into the matter," Gunnarson explained. "Well, we can go see Elvira at Broadmoor, Gelb in prison, or confront Walters. What should we do first?" Hartley asked. "Stay away from Walters for now; since there is nothing on him, we can't take the risk," Poirot explained. "I still think we should go to Caldwell Street and ambush the killer there. Think about it, with the note, it will be undeniable proof," Hartley argued.
An old lady walked up to them. "Excuse me," she said, "I heard you talk about leading an investigation. May I be of assistance?" "Who are you?" asked Hartley. "I am Jane Marple." "Well, we could use the extra help, I will admit, but I don't know... time is of the essence, and I don't know how long it will take to bring you up to speed on... well, everything going on," Gunnarson explained. "I don't suppose you have a camera on you?" Poirot asked. "Actually, I do." And she gave it to Poirot. "Thank you," he said. "You know," said Hartley, "I can give her the long and short of it while you go off and do some more searching. We do need extra help, you know." "Well, the killer will be appearing at Caldwell Street in 2 hours; who wants to go there?" Gunnarson asked. "I volunteer Hastings," said Poirot. "Me?!" "Yes; it is quite simple; just take Hartley with you and see what happens. Your priority is to take a picture of him in case he runs off, but just go there and see what happens," Poirot explained. "And I will go with you too, since that is my camera," Miss Marple said. "Then I will explain everything on the way," Hartley said as the three left. "What about us?" Poirot asked. "I think I will go talk to Elvira... I can't help but think she's hiding a vital clue from us," Gunnarson explained. "But you saw the papers, she's mentally unfit. For all we know, she is probably speaking in incoherent babble right now," Poirot said.
*** In Broadmoor Hospital, Elvira was locked in her room once again; after the trouble she caused earlier, it would probably be a while before she was let out again. "Perhaps we should put her under the care of Dr. Drugg. I'm sure his cocktails will work wonders on her," one doctor observed. "They are too experimental; I'd rather now until we know the full extent of their effects" his college reminded him.
*** "Shall I join you or go talk to Gelb?" Poirot asked. "Might be a good idea to talk to Gelb," replied Gunnarson. "You might get something out of him." And so they split up.
Some time later, Gunnarson arrived at Broadmoor Hospital. He called Conrad to come and join him, just in case anyone gave him a hard time. As they entered, they were escorted to a room where they would be able to talk to her. "Not sure why you want to talk to her. All she does is go on about things she did not do. I'm telling you that survivor's guilt is eating her alive," Dr. Hyde explained as Gunnarson and Conrad took their seats. "She will be here in a moment," Hyde assured as he left the room.
A few minutes later, a young woman with a shaved head, black eye and broken nose was escorted into the room and sat down. She was handcuffed for everyone's safety. "Elvira Revinev?" a confused Gunnarson asked. The Elvira he remembered looked nothing like this. "Who were you expecting?" she grumbled. Gunnarson was momentarily at a loss for words. "Ahem," said Conrad. "Er, we just wanted to ask you a f-" "Look, I don't have all day to fuck around with your damn questions, so hurry up, you asshole and ask them." "Okay, first of all in this whole mess of a case, who did you actually kill? Clearly, you did kill Gulden and you tried to kill me, but who else will you take responsibility for?" Gunnarson asked. "Everybody bloody fucking person! I killed them all! DIE!" And in a moment of insanity, she tried to launch herself onto Gunnarson and grab his throat... but she had forgotten she was handcuffed, so she didn't leave her chair. The orderlies in the room were forced to restrain her, and then one called out. "Get the sedative! She's going to take a nap now..."
"Well, this was an utterly pointless lead; I don't think we're getting anything out of her," Conrad observed. "We got something, though." "What's that?" "Apparently, the doctors are right; her survivor's guilt has driven her crazy. Now she's taking responsibility for all of them," Gunnarson observed. "Oh. So does this mean she's not going to give us anything useful then?" Conrad asked. "She did give me something useful." "What?! You found out something?" "Yes." "What?" They were interrupted by the sound of her yelping. She had been given an injection of a powerful tranquilizer by none other than Dr. Drugg. "I think gentleman, this is proof enough that she should be approved for treatment by my cocktails," Dr. Drugg explained as he then left the room. "Now what is it you want to tell me?" Conrad asked. Gunnarson proceeded to explain, "Well, you see, didn't you notice how she said, 'Who did you expect?'?" "Yes." "Well initially, I thought it was because I did not recognize her. She was quite lovely, actually, but from what I can tell, they shaved her head, taken away her make up, and she got a broken nose and black eye," Gunnarson explained. "Somehow, I don't think she will be seducing anyone any time soon," Conrad observed. "As a matter of fact, that is precisely why we did that," a doctor said. "Anyway, could it be possible that her saying that means... she has a twin?" Gunnarson asked. "Really? That's your theory?" Conrad said with utter disappointment. "Yes. What if we found the WRONG Elvira? I know it's highly improbable, but it's worth a shot. Perhaps she went insane because her sister - the real Elvira - did nothing to help her." "You can discount that theory. Her fingerprints matched the set found on her birth certificate," a doctor informed them as Elvira was loaded onto a gurney to be taken back to her cell. "Damn," Gunnarson said as he had to think some more. "Well, let's keep that in the back of our minds for now; it's unlikely, but until it is ruled out with absolute certainty, let's keep it in mind," Gunnarson said as he continued thinking. "Actually... another idea- what if she meant that there was another accomplice, besides Walters, in this?" "But how could we prove that?" Conrad asked. "Taylor will rip you apart if he hears that you are basing stuff on theories again. "I know..."
*** Meanwhile, Poirot was over at the prison with Johnson. Though Gunnarson could not contribute, nothing was said about Poirot, so he was free to investigate, even if Taylor found out. "Hello, I'm here to see Franz Gelb," he told the man in the entrance. "He's with me," Johnson explained. "Right this way," replied the man, and he took them to see Gelb. "Mr. Gelb," said Poirot, "we need to ask you a few questions." "What about?" Gelb asked. "The Farley case. Did you kill him?" Gelb asked. "Honestly, I don't know now," Gelb said. "Everything points to me." "Gunnarson says you were framed. Were you?" Poirot asked. "Well, the truth is... I WAS there, and I did fight Farley." This was not what Poirot wanted to hear. "Come again?" "But I did not kill him! At least, I don't think I did," he added. "Well, I was walking down that street, when I felt like I needed a break. So I went to smoke some cigarettes and have a bottle of my favorite beer. A while later, a man walked down the alley, and I saw him drop some papers. I went to pick them up to return them to him, but as I looked at them he said, 'Hey, you can't read those!' He started attacking me. We got into a fight. He ripped off part of my scarf, he scratched the side of my forehead - still have the scars you know. I struck him with my walking stick to try and get him to back off, but I only broke it. Heaven knows how many footprints I left at the scene. He was still coming after me, so I drew my gun as a last resort and fired at him. He fell down. I saw that some people had witnessed this so I ran away and tried to lay low. But just before I left, I turned around and saw him moving and moaning... so he was still alive just before I left." "I understand. I believe you, and don't worry, we'll get you out of here somehow."
*** Meanwhile, Hastings, Hartley, and Miss Marple were waiting behind some bushes at 28 Caldwell Street; they had a full view of the front of 30 Caldwell Street. Then, they saw a man walk up to the front of the house. It was nearly 8 P.M. "Alpha should be here soon," the man said as he took out a cigarette. "Ok, so that is Delta; we must have the killer," Hastings said. "What do we do?" Hartley asked. "I'm ready to go confront him." "First, just keep quiet, and take the picture when he's got his heard turned to us." The man turned his head, and they managed to get a few pictures in, before he turned away. "I don't get it; he's outnumbered, we've got him with evidence, and we've even got a few pictures, why not just stop him now? I've got my service pistol you know," Hartley said. "No, remember what they said, we've got to play our hand carefully. And anyway, it's our word against his," she said. "Are you insane? Our evidence is undeniable! I'm confronting him right now!!" Hartley fumed as he went to stand up. But then he sat back down and covered his nose. "Ugh; forget it. I'm not going anywhere near him while he's smoking that stuff." Hartley said. "All right. Miss Marple - say, where'd she go?" Hastings asked.
*** In a taxicab... "Driver, get me to Scotland as fast as you can!" Miss Marple ordered. "Scotland?! I mean I can take you to Euston station and you can take a train to Glasgow," the taxi driver said. "Fine; take me there" she said as she left.
"Well, she was hardly helpful" Hartley said. "At least we got the camera and the pictures," Hastings pointed out. Hartley looked over to see Delta... who had since disappeared. "He was RIGHT THERE!" he grumbled to himself as he and Hastings left for the night. He was starting to have doubts about his new associates.
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Post by Biblically Accurate Angel on Jul 25, 2018 15:52:05 GMT -5
Chapter Six: Interludium Everyone came back to the pub, including Miss Marple. It had been several hours; in fact, it was already about 10:00 AM that next day. Gunnarson was friends with the pub owner, and he let them use it so they would not be disturbed. "Where have you been?" asked Hastings. "I was in Scotland," Miss Marple said. "Some help you turned out to be," Hartley muttered. He was still sour that they did not just take down the guy right then and there. "I was a big help," the old lady retorted. "I found out something." "What?" "I think your findings are more important; we'll start with yours," Marple said to the others.
Poirot went first. "You're not going to like this, Gunnarson, but Gelb was there that night. And his story... it perfectly matches the evidence." "Blast. Makes it harder to prove his innocence. What did he tell you, exactly?" Gunnarson asked. "He said that he helped pick up Farley's papers, but Farley attacked him, and he shot Farley in self defense, though Farley didn't die then." "Hmm, so that itself doesn't prove that he did it." "But it also did not prove that Farley did not die by bleeding out," Poirot countered. "There is that; he was found with only one bullet hole," Gunnarson recalled.
"So what did you find on Elvira?" Hastings asked. "We have two different theories. The almost completely wrong one is that Elvira's twin sister is in jail instead of her, and the more probable one is that she had an accomplice." "...Let's go with the accomplice theory," Poirot deadpanned. "So how would an accomplice fit into the picture?" Hartley asked. "And we need to find SOMETHING that connects Elvira or Walters to this," Conrad informed. "Of course, if they were lovers..." Gunnarson trailed off.
"Gunnarson? Gunnarson!" Hartley shouted. "Eh, what?" Gunnarson asked. "You were about to say something. What about if they were lovers?" "Then that would connect them! Though thinking about it again, someone like Elvira wouldn't really be one to have sex with someone like Walters..." "Wait a minute," Hastings cut in, "are you saying that this accomplice was somehow a connection between Elvira and Mr. Walters?" "It's possible," said Poirot. "But before we go further, how did it go for you two?" "Well, we managed to take these pictures of the guy; see for yourself." They laid out seven pictures that they managed to take of "Delta". "We got him all right," said Poirot. "Of course, the pictures themselves don't prove anything, but we can show that our third party was where we thought he'd be."
"Now," said Gunnarson, "what did you do, Miss Marple?" "I had a hunch that I had heard the name somewhere before. You know, that third party. So I went to pursue something I knew I heard somewhere and, well, see for yourself." She put some documents on the table "As you can see, they are..."
But suddenly they were cut short. "Captain Hastings?" asked a police officer. "Yes?" "I have a warrant for your arrest." "What?! Me?! Why?!" "For the murder of Mr. Edwards."
*** Poirot was frantic. He paced up and down. "Why would they find him to be the murderer?!" he cried. "It doesn't make sense!" "Why didn't we just confront the with the evidence we had!" Hartley said. "It couldn't have been him, it makes no sense!" "Come to think of it, you two were with me the time the murder take place," Gunnarson said. "That's it; I'm going over their heads and calling Gent."
Meanwhile, at the prison, Elvira was being injected with Dr. Drugg's cocktails. "So, you think this will work?" asked Drugg's assisstant, Mr. Levi. "It'll work just as I intend it to," Drugg said. That was the last thing Levi heard before Drugg injected a different needle into him, and he fell twitching to the ground. Dr. Drugg released Elvira's bonds, and she stood there, waiting. "Now, Elvira, you will obey my every command, is that clear?" "Yes, sir," Elvira said emotionlessly. "Yes! My drug to increase suggestability works as planned. Won't Blade be pleased I have control of the most skilled assassin in Europe? Now, let's get out of here..."
***
"Excuse me, Mr. Gunnarson," said another police officer. "Yes?" "You're under arrest." "What?!" "And since there are not too many cases in the court system right now, chances are you'll go to trial in a few days' time." "So Taylor got all his evidence. Well, I'll just have to do this with what little I have..."
The trial took place a few days later. Hastings had been acquitted by the judge for 'little if any evidence', so he was able to be there at Gunnarson's trial. In fact, the prosecutor assigned to this case had motioned for the charges to be dropped, on the grounds that it had been revealed the warrant was the result of "the most outrageous clerical error in the history of Scotland Yard" as he put it. In fact, when Taylor got word of this... "What the hell were you thinking?! I'm still working on the Gelb case!!" He fumed. "Sorry sir, but we had all the evidence together and ready to go; we thought you would have wanted this," the detective explained. "Ugh... fine. But do NOT rush these things next time, all right? It's bad enough I now have to open the Gunnarson case in court while the Gelb case is still going," Taylor said with a sigh. "It won't happen again; I promise," the detective assured, as he left and Taylor went back to some paperwork.
At the Gelb trial the next day, the closing statements were being made. "And In conclusion, for Franz Gelb to not be called the murder would be a failure of our justice system. Thank you," Taylor closed as he wrapped up his work there. The jury went to deliberate; now Taylor could redirect his attention to Gunnarson. He met with Japp. "You have been a great help to me; I'll see to it you get a pay raise." "Thank you," Japp said. "Now then, you are going down Gunnarson." Taylor said to himself.
***
Blade, Mรผller, Nicholson, Friend, and McKibbin were waiting at "the hide out" which was a small house just outside of town. They were the last of Blade's cell. With Fowler and Wilcox apprehended, Blade had lost a lot of talent. "He'd better be here soon," Blade said between gnashed teeth. "Drugg said he'd get us a valuable weapon." "All in due time; we must be patient," Friend said. A car pulled up. Sure enough, Drugg pulled up with a woman. Her face was covered. A few minutes later, after proper introductions, Drugg spoke. "Gentlemen, I present to you, Elvira Revinev." "The assassin?" Blade said, impressed. Sure enough, when he took off the mask... Blade's cell somewhat cringed. "That's Elvira?" they said in confusion. "They shaved her head, took away her makeup, and she got a broken nose and black eye; sure, she's lost certain skills, but she's still the highly trained assassin," Drugg assured.
Just outside, 4 cars and a van pulled up. 20 or so men, armed with rifles, shotguns, and submachine guns got out. 10 of them stood in a line, 3 with B.A.R.s, 5 with Thompsons, and 2 with shotguns. The others stayed back for the moment. "Hey Blade!" an Irish accented voice yelled. "What the?" said a surprised McKibben. "This is for interfering, you bastard! Let him have it boys!" And the row opened fire. "It's those damn Irish! Down boys!" The group hit the ground and everything seemed to explode around them.
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Post by Biblically Accurate Angel on Jul 25, 2018 22:37:52 GMT -5
Chapter Seven: The Trial Commences "I call this trial to order!"
Prosecutor Henry Taylor stood up to make his remarks. "Ladies and gentleman, for years, civilians and officers alike have turned to Adolf Gunnarson to solve many unsolvable cases. However, my recent investigation has uncovered some shocking facts about his practice. Not only do I intend to prove he is incompetent and unqualified, but his methods are flawed, and he has a tendency to accuse the innocent. He is at the center of a conspiracy to get the innocent locked up and the guilty walk off free. I will be referring to a simple series of cases that show his incompetence as my evidence, and the evidence I have collected from an investigation to show just how much of a criminal this fraud is! Thank you." "Does the defense attorney have anything to say?" the judge asked. "If it pleases the court, I would like to defend myself," said Gunnarson. "Very well then." So Gunnarson stood up and addressed the crowd. He found himself unable to speak. He had never addressed so many people before. He began sweating profusely. "I...uh...I...ugh..." He was saved when an aid came up and whispered something into Taylor's ear. "Oh, I see. Your honor, we will need a brief adjournment. It seems that in the Gelb case, the jury has come to a decision, and I must be present." "Very well. We will return in half an hour," the judge declared. Gunnarson sighed in relief.
***
In an adjacent courtroom, the Gelb trial came to a verdict. "We, the jury, find Franz Gelb... guilty of all charges," the lead juror said. Gelb's face fell as Taylor's face gained a look of victory.
***
Taylor returned, and the court was called to order again. Gunnarson collected himself, and addressed the court: "Ladies and gentlemen, I aim to prove that Mr. Taylor is wrong." It was short and sweet, and Gunnarson sat down.
Taylor began his case. "Let us start with the case of Dr. Herbert Manning. Now, Gunnarson... I'm sure he had the best of intentions, but what he did was completely stupid. He ignored critical evidence and instead of pursuing Dr. Calvin Piorier, the true murderer, he went after an old medical student of his, James Hartley. And according to witnesses, as Hartley tried to leave peacefully, Gunnarson pulled out a revolver and fired SIX times at Hartley! The poor man was so scared he had to jump out the second story window just to escape." "Can you prove this?" the judge asked. "Allow me to present Exhibit A," Taylor announced. He wheeled in a display. It was the six fired bullets, plus photographs showing where they were recovered from in the hallway just outside of Gunnarson's apartment, and the sidewalk outside. The jury gasped; this did not sound like Gunnarson, but the evidence was right there.
"Mr. Gunnarson, what have you to say?" the judge asked. "It seems as though this was faked," Gunnarson said, trying to see the display from the distance he was at. "Faked? And how can you prove that?" the judge asked. "I'm sure Mr. Hartley himself can," Gunnarson replied "Mr. Hartley?!" the judge asked, confused. "So are you saying you would like to call Mr. Hartley as a witness?" "Objection, your honor; I have not finished presenting my case!" Taylor exclaimed. "Oh, sustained." Taylor called a witness to the stand - Mr. Thomas Rodgers, the tenant in the neighboring apartment to Gunnarson. After 14 minutes, he came to the end of his testimony. "...And that day, I heard 3 gunshots in the hallway. Then when I looked out my window, I saw that man, Hartley, jump out the window, and Gunnarson fire 3 more shots as Hartley took off down the street." "No further questions," Taylor said. "Very well. Gunnarson, would you care to cross examine?" the Judge asked.
***
At the hideout for Blade's cell, the five men, plus Drugg and Elvira, had taken cover, as glass shattered, wood splintered, and bullets ricocheted around them. "How did they find us?" Friend asked. "It's the Irish mob; when they have their sights set on someone, they hunt them down to the end," Blade retorted. In the brief moment there was no gunfire, Friend quickly ran to the window, glimpsed the situation then ran back. "Dealing with 2 dozen men at least; we're outnumbered 3:1 at minimum. What do we do?" "No worries." Blade said. "We'll use the tunnels I told you about. But first..." Mรผller called the police and told them that mobsters were shooting up the house. Then Blade's gang snuck away through the secret tunnels. The Mob was still shooting when the police arrived. A furious battle broke out between them.
***
"No need to cross-examine, I can explain everything that witness said. I was shooting at Hartley because I believed him to be the murderer." "Correct me if I'm wrong," Taylor interjected, "but wasn't he, like Ms. Revinev, ultimately innocent of the crimes you accused them of?" "Well, er... yes, but you see-" "AH-HA! This proves-" "SILENCE, BOTH OF YOU!" the judge yelled. "Thank you. Any further witnesses, Mr. Taylor?" "For the Manning case, no. But for the assassin case, yes. Now, Gunnarson claimed that Elvira murdered Walters, saying that the evidence pointing to Gelb was staged. However, I have four witnesses who place a large, blonde man like Gelb at the crime scene, not a petite dark haired woman like Elvira. They all saw essentially the same thing though, so it will only be necessary to call up one of them." And so, a Mr. Roland Peters was called up. He explained how he saw the fight between a large blonde man and Farley. "And then after the gunshot, he just took off and disappeared." "And no signs of a petite woman anywhere?" "None." "No further questions, your honor." "Gunnarson, would you care to cross examine?" "No need to, because Gelb was there. He just shot Farley in self defense." "I presume you will present this during your case?" the judge said. "Of course," said Gunnarson.
Taylor continued. "Now for my next witness, I'm calling... Mr Reginald Walters." The man wrongly accused by Gunnarson took to the stand. After several minutes he came to the following: "And he accused you of murdering your sister?" "Yes." "Did you?" "No." "How was she killed?" "In a raid." "Did Gunnarson present proof that you killed her, such as referring to means, motive and opportunity?" "No, he based his assumptions on the idea that Elvira and I were in love." "Were you?" "I had feelings, I will admit, but they were unrequited." "So, no possible way of you killing your sister then?" "I don't think so; if the evidence says I'm innocent, then I must be." "No further questions."
"Gunnarson, would you care to cross examine?" "Yes, I believe I will. Mr. Walters, I'd like to ask you a question." "Okay." "Now, you say you did not kill your sister, is that correct?" "Yes, I did not kill her." "Could you explain your feelings for Elvira?" "Um... well, in her line of work, we did have a professional relationship. I myself am not an assassin, but she would come to me for... advice, every now and again. There was a point I eventually started having feelings for her. She did not return them though, and that was it," Walters explained. "I see. Next, I want to ask you about your sister." "What about her?" "Are you absolutely sure she was killed in a raid?" "Positive," Walters replied. "Come to think of it... to my understanding, you actually witnessed her death yourself. So I'm sure you of all people can back me up on that." "Is that true, Mr. Gunnarson?" the judge asked. "I did, your honor, but it happened shortly before the raid, so I couldn't be sure. Before it, I did hear something I thought two writers were saying - 'I suppose we'll have to kill her...' - when I thought it over, it seemed to me that perhaps they were talking about her, not a character in a book." "Will you be covering that in your case?" "Yes I will." "Return to Mr. Walters then." "So let me ask you, were you there that day, when your sister was killed?" Gunnarson asked. "Was I where?" "At the scene of the raid." "Coincidentally, yes." "Your honor, I believe it was more than a coincidence. I still believe that this man killed his sister - and I have evidence to support it, too!" "Really?" inquired Taylor. "For once you actually have evidence?" "It was not easy, but my associates and I did come across something linking Mr Walters to the crime. If your honor will allow, showing Mr Walters this will help with the testimony," Gunnarson proposed. "Go ahead," the judge said.
Gunnarson went and pulled something out of a briefcase. "As you can see, this is a bullet. It's the one that shot Mr. Walters's sister. And we were able to link it to... Mr. Walters's gun!" Gunnarson exclaimed. Then he pulled out a report. "A respected firearms examiner took a look at this bullet under the microscope and was able to confirm it," he continued. Mr. Walters, seeing that, quickly spoke. "I don't deny that my gun could have been used to killer my sister... But you must understand, I reported it stolen months ago! I couldn't have done it with a gun I didn't have. Therefore I could not have done it." But Gunnarson was not phased. "Then kindly explain your fingerprints on the bullet." "What? My fingerprints are still on there? I thought that surely they'd go away once I'd shot her... er... I mean, if SOMEONE shot her." The judge wasn't phased. "I think I understand. Mr. Walters, I charge you with the murder of your sister." "What? No, I... CURSES!" And he leaped up, jumped over the railing, grabbed for Gunnarson's throat. He was forced back, and the judge ordered him to be locked up. Gunnarson then addressed the courtroom. "Walters's prints were actually NOT on this gun." "What?!" some members of the jury gasped. "Yes, but I put that in to trap him. If he was innocent, nothing, but if he was guilty... and you see what happened...."
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