Samuel Barker opened the large yellow letter nervously and pulled out the booklet which would determine his future career. Samuel was a renowned detective and had a big reputation around London for his crime solving. His eyes skimmed the printed text on the papers. As he turned the page, a small handwritten note fluttered out and onto his lap. It said,
“You only have twenty four hours to investigate the scene, so work hard. I know you can!”
Samuel continued reading the case outline.
“Information on missing male. Name: James Watson Age: 28. Last seen: 3.10.2010.”
Wasn’t that the name of the young boy who was on a walking tour when...
His thoughts were interrupted by the captain’s voice echoing around the plane cabin. “Prepare for landing, please stow all items in the cabinets or under your seats”.
I’ll read the rest later Samuel thought as he shoved the booklet back in and zipped it up into his leather satchel. He followed the rest of the passengers out of the plane and weaved in and out of the constant flow of tourists, his head down and his hands dug deep into the pockets of his grey overcoat, until he reached the taxi stand. Samuel briskly pulled open the door of the first taxi he saw and slumped down into the leather back seat.
“Saunders Manor” he said. The taxi driver immediately flung his head around to face Samuel.
“Isn’t that where...?”
“Sorry. Government business. Confidential” he interrupted, holding up his license with an air of authority.
“Well... if you say so. But I refuse to leave this seat for the whole journey.” The taxi driver said, shaking his head stubbornly. Samuel nodded and continued reading his case outline.
“Was last seen by a passerby entering Saunders Manor with a large backpack, perhaps a hiking bag of some sort. Was said to be on a walking tour before he went missing.”
He was asked to investigate this case as James’ family had only recently confirmed him as missing even though the incident was reported over two years ago. Such a renowned detective as Samuel himself, he was chosen to investigate the situation. He continued reading the outline, ignoring his instinct to ponder on the family’s strange actions. He let a few ideas fly around his head, and he considered them for the rest of the uncomfortable trip.
Samuel walked up the old cobblestone path leading up to the large Victorian-style house. The front gate was left slightly ajar, and it creaked ominously in the slight breeze which ruffled through the overgrown grass. Perfect scene for a murder He thought as he closely scrutinized every feature of the building. He walked up the the wooden steps and caught a whiff of the ancient stench which lingered in the atmosphere around the house. The neglected porch looked as if it would collapse under the slightest touch. As he carefully approached the door he noticed a rusty doorbell hanging loosely from a screw. He pressed the bell out of pure curiosity and was shocked when a rather pale, but seemingly friendly man opened the door. The man was tall, fair and was wearing a smart suit. He looked to be in his late twenties.
“Oh, hello sir” the man said, smiling warmly.
“Hello, um, I was not expecting company, especially in a place like this. Do you live here..?” Samuel asked, puzzled.
“Why no, of course not.” the man replied.
Samuel raised his eyebrow.
“I’m detective Semaj.” Said the man blankly.
Oh wow... thanks for the detailed explanation Samuel thought, annoyed. “Pleased to meet you detective” Samuel said, trying to break the silence.
“I’m definitely pleased to meet you” Semaj responded.
“Right...” I suppose he is just trying to be friendly... “Are there are other detectives?” he continued with a friendly smile, returning Semaj’s welcoming air. Maybe they’ll all have strange foreign names... Samuel thought, irritated by this man’s presence already.
“Only you.” Semaj replied, with a slightly eerie smile, beckoning him in with a slender finger.
As he walked through the corridor he noticed there were no other hats or coats in the hall. “Care for any tea?” called out Semaj, from what seemed like the kitchen.
Tea? In an investigation?
“Er, yes, black with two sugars please.” he said, trying to act as normal as possible.
Samuel sat down on the couch and looked around the living room. It was simple with two dusty couches, a broken mirror and a small coffee table. Semaj came back and handed him his tea, still smiling. It was as if this emotion was a mask on his face. Unmoving. Always exactly the same. Samuel thanked him with a slight nod of the head.
“So the young man, is he still classed as missing?” inquired Semaj.
“Well, I have reason to believe he was murdered” Samuel replied, only lifting the cup up to his lips at the exact time Semaj did, as if to be polite.
“Why do you think that?” hissed Semaj, no longer smiling.
“Intuition” replied Samuel quickly feeling uncomfortable. I’ll try and let him do some of the work, he obviously doesn’t like me solving the case without his help.
Samuel discussed various aspects of the case and the further he spoke about the tiny details, the more and more Samuel realised how clueless Semaj was about it.
He probably just hasn’t read the outline very well Samuel thought as he continued to try and explain the basics of the investigation. Semaj seemed to be attempting to twist the evidence and muddle the case. After a few more minutes of struggle, Samuel resorted to one thing; Semaj was an absolutely horrible detective.
Samuel sat quietly for a couple of minutes before he noticed a black leather-bound book lying on the coffee table. He slowly reached out and picked up the book. Holding it in front of his face, he blew on the cover and a thick layer of dust flew off, leaving the word; DIARY. Samuel turned over the ancient yellow pages, each with its own thin layer of dust. “This last entry is over two years old...” he pondered to himself.
Semaj looked up from his tea and reached out one of his white hands and patted him comfortingly on the knee, “No need to dredge up the past” he whispered with a ghostly smile. By this time Samuel was feeling quite uncomfortable by Semaj’s creepy demeanour, so he stood up and walked over towards the cracked mirror to avoid confrontation. He then opened the diary once more and briefly skimmed over the handwritten text. Semaj looks familiar in some way... he thought as he read through it. He heard the sound of the door locking, from the corner of the room. Samuel gulped. Semaj then strolled over and peered at Samuel’s investigation. Samuel gulped harder this time and turned to face the mirror, and gasped when he did not see the reflection of Semaj, who was standing only inches away from him.
“Semaj... as in... James backwards” said Samuel aloud, his voice hoarse with realization.
“Yes, I do believe so” said James, beaming.
“I never caught your last name” croaked Samuel turning to face James, who appeared to tower over him.
“Watson, James Watson.”
