Detective Almasy

The Case of The Ruined Store
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I leaned back in my chair one rainy afternoon as I watched my friend sit brooding silently in his seat.

It had been a full week since he had joined the detective agency, and he had yet to receive a case.

His glazed, teal-green eyes were fixed morbidly at the table infront of him,
and he spoke not a word through the half-hour I was in his presence, save the short greeting upon my entry.

I had known this man precisely two weeks now, and we had gradually become friends,
yet we spoke hardly a word to each other during all our time together.

Closing my eyes and sighing, I rested my head against the chair, when I heard the noise of a cab approaching, and parking infront of our apartment.

Minutes later, I picked up the sound of light footsteps ascending the stairs, and a rattle against the door shook my friend out of his morbid trance.

"Come in", he called, and moments later, the door to our room was opened by a rather thin looking man, garbed in a creased black buisness suit, and wore a white shirt underneath this, along with a disheveled black tie, and untidy black mud stained shoes.

Nervously, he glanced between the two of us, until his eyes rested on my friend, who looked hopeful, as he most likely suspected the man to have brought a mystery with him, a mystery which required solving, and Louis had longed to finally prove himself as a detective.

"Mr. Louis Almasy, I presume?"

"That is my name. Do have a seat, sir.", said he as he motioned for the man to sit down on an empty couch across from him,
to which the man willingly obliged, and set his rickety body down upon it.

He was a man of moderate height, with a balding patch of black hair, though I would not say him to be very much beyond the age of two and fourty.

His manner was nervous and shy, and he stared at my friend uneasily, before he began:

"Jefferson Morris is my name. I am a retired Pharmacist, now running a rather large Pharmacy of my own, and it's destruction is what has brought me here today.

The matter I lay before you is one of utmost urgency, Mr. Almasy.

And it is for this reason I had taken it up with the more experienced detectives originally, but they had all failed to unravel this mystery,
and I have at last been advised by Inspector Kinneas to come to you, though I doubt you shall be able to solve it, as not even the experts could."

I noticed a wave of excitement wash over my friend's face, and he leaned forward in his chair, elbows on his knees and hands joined,
listening with the keenest attention to the matter at hand, before he replied:

"I am sure you will find me to be a rather worthy detective, dear sir,
and if you would be so kind as to supply me with the details of this case, I am certain I shall prove to be quite useful."

He said in his Sherlock Holmes like manner.

He had always been a large fan of the fictional detective, who's story ended nearly two decades ago.

However, though fictional, he had become a legend amongst detectives, as well as the role-model of my friend, and the two were quite similar in mannerisms.

Pushing aside my thoughts, I listened keenly to our guest, who shot a final nervous glance at each of us, before he began to provide us with details of the case.

"Very well." said he at last, "It is Saturday today, so this entire course of events took place precisely five days ago, on Monday night.

That night, as I closed down my store for the day as usual, I noticed some rough looking youths hanging around my shop, others trying to provoke me by looking through
the windows, and causing trouble all in all..

I cannot remember much about their appearance, however, they all looked to be around the same age as you, sir,
and looked to be an aggressive, mischievous group, the lot of them.

However, not wanting trouble, I decided not to confront them, though they were getting too close to my property for comfort.

I retired to my bed uneasily that night, and returned the next morning, Tuesday morning, to find my entire store burned to the ground,
with no traces as to who could have done it.

Fortunately, my insurance policy can pay for the damages, however, I still wish to get to the bottom of this mystery,
and find out which miserable ruffian it is who destroyed my shop,
though it is quite clear that it is most likely the gang that was there the night before who is to blame."

Having completed his tale, he sank back in his chair, and said nothing further.

"Hum...", said my friend.

"We will need further proof before resting the blame on the alleged delinquents.", and I could hear the disbelief clearly in his voice.

"I would like to investigate the scene of the crime, sir, if you please."

"Oh yes, of course...", said our guest, and the two gentlemen stood up to leave, and Louis called for me to join them, and the three of us drove off in Mr. Morris's cab,
and some fifteen minutes later, we arrived at our destination.

The Pharmacy belonging to Mr. Morris, which once stood there, was now reduced to shambles, and only rubble and a few burned,
half-broken walls here and there remained.

As we exited the cab, Louis strode at once to the remains of the building, and began his investigations of the scene,
while our client and I stood by and watched Louis at work,
before Police Inspector Kinneas approached us, and shook hands vigorously with each of us in turns, before he spoke:

"I hope our Mr. Almasy here will have better luck than the last detectives.
Although he's a newly recruited detective, that boy's got an eye for observation, and a mind to piece the facts together."

"Hum...", said our client, but I saw a look of worry cross his face at the inspector's words, as though he feared the worst.

Inspector Kinneas was a tall, well built man, with sandy hair and a rough face.

He posessed a loud, booming voice, and looked to be a man who loved ordering others around,
and could afford to, as he was a high ranking police officer, and a man one would not want to fool around with as his short temper and large body
was a rather bad combination, which spoke of menace.

We spoke for a while, before some time later, the subject of our discussion came strutting towards us with a proud look on his face,
and for an instant I thought he had indeed solved the mystery, however, it turned out to be something rather trivial...

"You seem rather cheery. Good news I hope?", asked the Inspector, but my friend shook his head, and our hopes faded, however, he continued:

"No, I have not solved the case just yet, but I have formed a theory."

"Really? What is it, then?", asked our client, as he gazed at Louis in shock.

"Patience, dear fellow. All shall be revealed in time.

I would not like to give false solutions to the mystery, if my theory proves to be incorrect.

For now," said he as he withdrew a cigar from his coat pocket,
"I would like a smoke in order to clear my mind so I may focus better, but I am afraid I have no matches on me...", however,
I was sure he had a lighter with him, as for all the time I had known him, I knew him to be a frequent smoker, who always carried a few cigars and a lighter with him.

"Ah, I think I have some with me...", said our client as he reached in his pocket, and produced a matchbox with the name of his pharmacy inscribed upon it,
most likely of those he sold in his shop, as others would not be using his pharmacy's name, and drew out a match to light the cigar.

"Thank you, kind sir.", my friend said as he began taking puffs from his cigar, but I saw a smirk cross his face for an instant as he caught sight of the matchbox,
which slightly startled me, however, I spoke nothing of the matter, out of fear of ruining whatever plot my friend had conceived.

"Ah yes, Mr. Almasy," interrupted the inspector, "I happen to have a witness who was here the night of the crime, if you would like to question him."

"Yes, I would like to, in the meantime, Arthur," he said to me, "you may make for home, as after I question the witness, I shall be returning in a while."

"Very well.", said I as the inspector and my friend walked off, leaving me alone with our client.

"I shall give you a lift home, if you please.", he said as he entered the cab, and I obliged as I was not in the mood for taking a long walk home.

However, my journey home was not a silent one, as Mr. Morris began questioning me about Louis.

"Do you suspect he has already figured out the case?", he asked me, to which I replied "I do not know.", though I was sure that by the expression
plastered on my friend's face, he had already cracked a case expert detectives could not unravel, however, I still held some doubt.

"Perhaps his theory is correct, and he really has figured out the case? If so...", and that is where our conversation ended,
as Mr. Morris spoke not another word for the rest of the journey home, and merely sat deep in thought, to which I was very relieved, as I was not very fond of our client.

He was too suspicious for my liking.

I arrived at home precisely the same amount of time it took to get to the crime scene, and Mr. Morris drove off as soon as I left the cab.

It was still rather much too early for bed at the time, and as I was not tired either, I spent some hours continuing to write my novel.

I had already become famously known by casual, and avid readers and writers alike for my well written stories of all genres.

I wrote well into 8:00 PM that night, and was beginning to think of heading to bed as it seemed Louis would not be returning for some time,
when I heard the sound of a cab pulling up infront of our apartment, and the sounds of my friend and the inspector's taking,
before the cab drove away again, and minutes later I heard the faint sounds of my friend's lithe footsteps ascending the stairs to the lounge where I sat writing.

"Ah, good evening Arthur," said he as he opened the door,
"I see you are still up. I have formed a theory of this case which I deem to be correct, moreso after having questioned the witness,
but I pray that you do not disturb me for the rest of the night, as I intend to further contemplate about it."

And with that, he threw himself into one of the couches, lit his pipe, and sat smoking while deep in thought till well after I had already retired to my room to bed.

The next morning, as I entered the kitchen for breakfast, I found Louis sitting at the table with a large mug of coffee in his hand,
and from his murmured greeting, I could tell that he was quite tired after a night of no rest.

I decided not to speak to him yet or ask him about the case, as I did not wish to trouble him,
but it was infact him who broke the silence of the room.

"I have formed a theory, dear Arthur, and I have found it to be correct."

"Really? Pray tell, what is your theory, then?"

"I shall be visiting the inspector this morning, and if you will join me, I shall tell you all about the case, how I have solved it and who is the criminal."

"I shall be pleased to go with you, and learn who the criminal is, as I am completely baffled by this strange mystery."

We arrived at our client's house 10:00 AM that morning, and we found both Mr. Morris and the inspector in the lounge area.

"Well then, Mr. Almasy," said our client, "the secret is over. Who is the criminal behind this case?"

Smirking, Louis sat himself down leisurely upon a couch, and looking our client square in the eye, told him bluntly:

"That, would be you, Mr. Jefferson Morris."

To say our client was outraged would be an understatement.

"W-What rubbish is this you're talking?! Why would I burn down my own property?!"

We were all greatly surprised by my friend's words, and though I thought Mr. Morris had been acting suspiciously, I would never have thought he would burn down his own

pharmacy. And where Louis had found proof to back his statement, I had yet to learn.

"Well," said the inspector, "If you so strongly state that this is the truth, pray bring forth your proof!"

"I shall gladly do so.", said Louis, and he began narrating the story from his point of view.

"Even after listening to Mr. Morris here's story, I never once suspected any of the rough youths, if there were any, to be the cause of the destruction of his building.

And the way he blamed them, spoke of one who was trying to shift their blame on another, and I instantly became suspicious of him.

I then asked to be escorted to the scene of the crime, and, in my investigation, I discovered this matchbox outside the window of a still standing wall."

With that he withdrew a matchbox from his coat pocket, which held Mr. Morris's company name upon it, the exact same as the one he had used to light Loius's cigar.

"Upon further investigation, I noticed from the cracks, that the window was infact smashed from the inside, and not the outside,
and a used match was lying infront of the store counter.

I also discovered the bottle of the parrafin used beneath the rubble, and it too held Mr. Morris's company name on the label,
and it was also the same as those which he used to sell.

Also, none of the doors I found in the rubble were broken, they would have been in perfect condition if not burned,
and the window which was smashed was too small for even a child to get through, as two thin burglar bars blocked entry, and they were undamaged.

So, how then would the criminal get in, without causing any destruction?

The criminal would have then needed to have either worked in the store, or posessed a key.

The first solution was eliminated, as there were no staff working in Mr. Morris's pharmacy, save he himself.

The second solution was then too eliminated as he was the only one to posess the key to his store.

Then, when I returned to you after my investigation, I purposefully asked for a match in order to get one from Mr. Morris,
and when he withdrew a matchbox the same as the one I discovered, my theory was complete.

However, I did not want to speak only posessing this much proof, and I took the chance to question one of the witnesses,
who told me that he had seen Mr. Morris return to his store later on monday night, long after he had closed it.

But even after hearing this, there was still the possibility that the witness could have been lying, and therefore I questioned the second witness there,
who further backed my theory as he too claimed to have seen Mr. Morris back at his store late night, after the store had been closed.

They both described Mr. Jefferson garb to be the same, and what he had done they described the same way,
and they could not have been lying, as they had both not known or spoken to each other.

Then, as I knew Mr. Morris would still be taking you home, Arthur, I paid a visit to his home,
and learned from his wife that he had been wanting to retire, and would be paid a sum of 1,000,000 Pounds should anything happen to his store.

I then left for home, and further built up my theory through the night.

Mr. Morris had closed his store monday evening, and returned later that night.

He then entered his pharmacy, poured the contents of one of his parrafin bottles around the floor, lit a match from one of the matchboxes sold by him,
and, as it was empty, through it outside the window after smashing it, so that it appeared the match was thrown in, then lit the match and dropped it amidst the parrafin.

He then quickly returned home, arrived at his self-destroyed shop the next morning, informed the police and detectives,
who were both unable to solve the mystery, and then finally informed me, though he never would have thought I would have cracked his scheme.

And, had it not been for me, he would receive the large payment from his insurance policy first thing tomorrow, and would then never have to worry about work again.

It was a perfect scheme, but one that was clearly not thought about well enough.

And with this, you may arrest him, inspector.", he finished his tale there, and only then I saw the plainess of the mystery,
and laughed at my own foolishness in not having already solved it by myself, as the mystery was such a simple one.

Later that night, Louis and I sat in the lounge area of our apartment, Louis relaxing after the mystery.

Mr. Jefferson Morris had been placed behind bars, and Louis had won the case, receiving a promotion and quite a large paycheck.

We were all quite proud of him, as he was just a rookie detective, but was able to unravel a mystery the experts were unable to,
as easy as the case may have been.

And with that, I end this fabulous tale of my friend, Louis Almasy's, first case, which I have taken up my pen to describe.

It is a case which shall always be remembered, as it was the case which started my friend's reputation as a renowned detective.