Mansion of Mysteries Prologue

From the Case Files of Jack Masters:

Mansion of Mysteries

Prologue

New York - 07-09-1988

Roosevelt Apartment Complex B – Apartment 26

Last Resort Investigations

“But I don’t want to go” said Jack, exasperated by having had to repeat the same sentence over and over again, with the same results.

“No buts” said Lucy, equally exasperated. “You need to get out of the city, get some country air, and besides, if you didn’t want to go, why did you compete in the preliminaries?”

“Because you and Gordon made me” came the reply.

“Come on, you enjoyed yourself thoroughly” said Lucy, “You’re going and that’s it”

“This doesn’t have anything to do with the fact that you get off on anything detective related, and if I go you get to go too and then proceed to drool over the other detectives?” asked Jack.

“I’ve already packed your stuff and Gordon is coming with the car, so stop back talking”  said Lucy, ignoring the slight against her.

“I remember when you looked at me like you looked at some of those other detective losers at that competition. Where did that hero worship go?” said Jack, sarcastically.

“It disappeared when I found out you weren’t a detective so much as a drunk, who instead of investigating cases, would much rather lounge about in this depressing dump.”

“I prefer the term alcoholic”

“Alcoholics are rich people, you are just a drunk” Lucy said playfully. “Now get your coat, we’re going and that’s final”

This all started a couple of weeks ago, at a detective contest, right here in New York City.





New York – Three weeks earlier

Exhibition Hall – Rockefeller Centre

“Ladies and Gentlemen! The semi-finals are upon us! Only one of the 8 contestants left will continue to the final round!”
“Isn’t this exciting?” Says Lucy, obviously enjoying herself. “How is this exciting?” says Gordon
“It’s just a silly detective contest. None of these idiots are actually capable of solving murders. It’s all just make believe. All of these contestants are nothing more than delusional individuals, who think they could really be detectives” says Gordon, slightly disapprovingly. “Thanks for that” says Jack. “If that’s how you feel, then why did you come?” “Well,” says Gordon  “I didn’t mean you, obviously. Besides, it’s still funny to see these amateurs stumble while the answer is so obvious”

“Well, this is where it gets exciting! The amateurs have been weeded out, the only ones left are those with some actual skill!” says Lucy. “I even recognize some from various magazines and newspapers they’ve appeared in.” “Magazines?” asks Jack. “Yeah, like ‘Investigative weekly’, and ‘Mystery!’ And of course the organizer of this contest, ‘The Bakerstreet Journal’ . And dozens more!” “How do you know about these things?” asks Jack, taken aback. “I uhm, have a thing for detectives. They’re so cool, deducing cases and finally pointing their finger at the culprit while yelling, ‘The murderer is you!’” “Uhm…you know those kinds of things don’t really happen in real life?” says Jack. “It’s not so much deducing as it is having a good idea of who did it in the first place and then lucking out by finding fingerprints or other corroborating evidence” “You’re no different from these other geeks” says Gordon accusingly to Lucy. “Since you’ve actually been involved in solving cases, I figured at least you would’ve gotten rid of those kinds of delusions”. “Well… with you guys, it’s usually just like in the movies, minute details leading to the conclusion.” Says Lucy.
“I suppose we can’t really fault you for that then, but we’re kind of unconventional. Hey, are you listening?” says Jack, annoyed because Lucy’s attention is already gone. “Oh, that’s Ixal the Knowing. He patented his finger waggle when accusing a suspect!” says Lucy, barely containing her joy. “Oooh, and I know her too, it’s…”

“Just let her be Jack” says Gordon, suddenly indulging. “Besides, wasn’t it because of her you signed up in the first place?” “Yeah, how can I refuse her when she makes that kind of face. Besides, I needed to get out anyway.” “How are you, felt any need to pick up a glass?” asks Gordon. “I’m doing okay Gordon, no need to constantly check up on me” says Jack. “Besides, what’s with you suddenly letting up on her about these fake detectives? Gordon? Oh great, you’re walking up to the lady detective as well. Yeah sure, so when they’re hot you suddenly approve? Hypocrite”
It’s been two weeks since I was released from rehab. Nine months since my last case. I’d been drinking since I lost my job as a police detective, ha, who am I kidding, I’ve been drinking long before that. I started hallucinating, almost made me incapable of solving the case. I barely made it in the end, and I decided enough was enough. But becoming clean and sober doesn’t change anything about you, it just removes your crutch. Me, I just fell down. I didn’t suddenly see the rainbows, instead I saw, with rather depressing clarity, the pile of shit my life had become. No job, the last paying client I had in jail on drug charges, and no new ones forthcoming. There’s nothing sadder than a private investigator with nothing to investigate. So when Lucy came and told me of this contest, it was like a lifeline, either that or rot away in some three by four room.

I’m Jack by the way, recently rehabilitated private investigator. I’m just over thirty, which means the good parts, insofar there were any, are long past gone. I wear the standard trench coat, but in a detective geek gathering here, I’m far from the only one. I’ve shaven, another new habit. Turning over a new leaf and all that. I’ve been told I have a scary face, couple that with me cutting my own hair, I suppose I can be a bit imposing. Gordon is a relic, my old partner, and the oldest detective at my former precinct. The other dinosaurs have all been promoted away. He’s quite sharp, and still keeps me in the loop, probably feels he has to take care of me. He takes a special pride in his moustache. And of course there is Lucy. A major detective geek, I used to employ her as my personal assistant back when I could still call myself a professional investigator. I haven’t been able to pay her anything substantial for almost a year, so it’s not quite clear why she still hangs out with us. I think it’s because I’m irresistible, but Gordon claims it’s because this way she gets to be close to actual criminal investigations. She’s quite cute in her own way, long blonde hair, glasses, and well, I could go on, but you get the picture. Just imagine a cute blonde girl next door type, and you’ve got the gist.

“The selection for the finals is as follows, you will be split up in two groups of four, and led to crime scenes we’ve set up.” Says the host “You will be given the opportunity to investigate the scene and interrogate the actors we have hired who will give answers while being in character. During this half hour you have to deduce the identity of the killer and write down your deduction and answer on the answer sheet we will give you. Your answer sheets will be graded, and the person with the highest grade will have won this round!”

Two Hours Later
“Well that was easy” says Jack. “Whatever” says Lucy, looking surly. “What? What did I do?” says Jack. “You insulted Kayla” says an angry looking Gordon. “I don’t think that that really counted as an insult” says Jack defensively. “You called her an idiot, and referred to the case as something a toddler could solve. You said it was like pushing a blue square peg into a blue square hole.” “Why are you suddenly on first name terms with that woman?” “We’re going for drinks after” said Gordon, with a faraway look, his anger all but forgotten. “What about my ride?” said Jack. “What about it?” said Gordon.