Kiran D

The Abyss of Suspicion.

It started like any other day. I woke up, got dressed, and picked up a coffee and a donut on the way to work. Once I got in I went up to the tenth floor, walked through the door marked Private Eye, and said good morning to my partner Collin. I said good morning and asked about his dog, which has the size and strength of a taco. Quite the opposite of the walking Greek statue that is Collin. He said there are no cases yet but that's fine with me, cause I like the days slow. I kicked my feet up and lit a pipe. 

Around noon a call came in from a maid. She sounded distressed like a dog stuck in the woods. She said a man was murdered last night and the cops were being useless as usual. I said we would come right over but we took our time cause he wouldn’t get more dead. 

When we got to the apartment building a man who looked like he would blend in at an outdoor camp but not the cool ones, said the corpse was found in the 6th-floor apartment. The maid opened the door and was surprisingly calm looking considering how she seemed on the phone but I still made out some signs of distress. The apartment was quite untasteful. It seemed like 1840’s furniture but all in bright colors and it smelled like a wet dog mixed with dirty socks. The body was found in the kitchen. It looked like there was a very intense struggle, by struggle I mean one side was trying tirelessly to subdue the other and the other was a headless chicken running as fast as they could away and into furniture. It seemed halfway through the victim had been wounded because there was blood everywhere. We asked the maid who this guy was and she said he was Charles Brownley. We thanked her, took some photos and left. 

When we were back at the office we looked for files on a Charles Brownley and found an old DUI charge. We also found out that he was a not well-known jazz musician and there was a record too so we popped it into the record player and the room was instantly filled with the most morbid sounds I had ever heard. It sounded like an elephant with throat cancer singing with a turkey that was in the process of being strangled.

The only thing suspicious was that he had a good amount of money even though his only listed occupation was jazz but I doubt he made a lot of money with that. The file also said he had an ex-wife named Michelle Jameson. The file said she was remarried to Lewis Jameson, a rich businessman. As I was thinking and reading more about this guy Collin came back from the file room with a thick file in his hands and a look on his face that indicated he thought he had found a lead. He said he found a file on a dude named “Brarles Chownly”. The file was about 13 charges of insurance fraud adding up to about $500,000 charged by South Sun Insurance. I immediately suspected them but I still told Collin about his ex-wife we decided to call his ex-wife and see if we could interrogate her.

 I dialed the number listed in Charles Brownley’s file and she picked up after a considerable amount of time. She sounded like she knew how to negotiate with law enforcement because she said she would only meet me if we went to a bar downtown late that night. I agreed because that gives us time to meet with South Sun Insurance in the meantime.  

We left immediately to go to one of SouthSun Insurance's offices in Chicago. At the insurance office, we asked to speak to someone in charge of insurance fraud. They directed us to the office of a guy named  Mr. Howardson. We asked him about a person named Brarles Chownley. He got visibly nervous and asked what we wanted to know. Mr Howardson said he stole half a million dollars from them but the judge said he was not guilty. I then decided to take a risk and asked how easy it would be for him to hire an assassin. He immediately started sweating and asked why we would ask such a thing because he “would never do something like that.” By that point, we had seen enough evidence but unfortunately, due to the chowderheads in the police department, we couldn’t arrest them without hard evidence. Plus we still had to meet with Michelle Jameson. 

The bar she demanded was relatively shady; most patrons were keeping their heads low over their drinks like they were trying not to be noticed and it smelled like the walls were painted with expired beer. I saw her sitting at the bar chatting with the bartender. I walked over and sat down. She greeted me but immediately lost her cheerful attitude. I asked about Charles and she said she hated him for messing up their life. Apparently she was happy with him until the end and she didn’t love Lewis. But apparently, she is better now. I doubted that because it seemed like she was a regular here but I didn’t say anything. 

She then got a call and had to step away for a minute. While she was gone I looked in her purse and found the keys to a brand new Dodge Challenger  worth $500,000 and some papers saying she bought the car that morning. When she got backShe said she left him because of his dodgy business with the insurance company. I asked more about that and she said he was always hunched over some legal documents trying to find a loophole. I had heard enough by this point so I thanked her and left glad to be out of that foul bar. On the way home I had a strange feeling she made up that whole story of how she “loved him and not Lewis”. The real question was what was she hiding. 

I spent all morning the next day thinking about what happened and who murdered Charles brownly. Around ten I got a call that they had found a safe in the victim's house with all the money gone. Suddenly it all clicked together and if I was right which I was then this was the murder of the century. I excitedly called Collin and told him to meet me in the alley next to our office. 

When Collin got to the alley I conferred with him my idea and he agreed that it makes sense. Suddenly several thugs jumped out from behind trash and tried to clobber us. Luckily I had my revolver so I was able to take two down before one snuck up behind me and sent me out cold with a pipe. The last thing I saw before I went out was Collin with his back to the wall firing viciously as 4 goons closed in on him. 

I awoke, chained to a chair in a dark room with Collin still out cold next to me. I tried to make out the room but the only light was a small grate in the ceiling. It smelled like sewage mixed with old dried blood. I tried to feel around on the ground but the only thing I felt was a rock. Suddenly next to me, I heard a sharp intake of breath. I looked over at Collin. he didn't look too good. He had a large lump on his forehead and a black eye but at least he was alive. I heard voices outside and quickly tried to form a plan. Then the door opened and Michelle Jameson stepped in! 

She said she didn’t want to hurt us but she didn’t want to go to jail and she had to keep us quiet. I said that she would never get away with it because I have a file that says in detail exactly how and why she was killed. She then pulled out the fire and a lighter and burned all the evidence. I suddenly remembered that I had a  nail file in my back pocket. I slowly pulled it out and started cutting through my ropes while she was talking on and on about her evil plan like a politician. When I finished with my ropes I waited for my opportunity to strike then I remembered the rock. I picked it up with my feet and lightly tossed it out to the side. The sound distracted her enough to jump up and loop the rope around her feet and trip her.

 After I wrapped her up and gagged her I helped Collin get out of his ropes. We then slowly creeped to the door and flung it open to find one thug guarding outside. We quickly incapacitated him and snuck down the hall to another door where we heard voices. I kicked down the door and collin went in first and shot the two who leapt at him with the first thugs gun. Then we grabbed our stuff from a box in the corner then we made our way out of the building and emerged into an alleyway. We called the police and went to get a donut and some coffee.

What They Say.

I see all

Atleast thats what they say

They say I 

Hear all

Speak all

Smell all

And Taste all

They say 

I see the hidden meaning behind words

I hear the thoughts of a mouse thinking longingly of its mom

I speak the future and past

I smell the damp dog in the rainfall

I taste the small pinch of paprika that was not on the recipe

At least thats what they say.