Flashback

A story about a desperate man who attempts to find out about the truth behind the death of his beautiful, majestic wife.

As he gazed upon the stars adorning the otherwise dark and empty sky, the man began doubting his sanity. These past few days he had been wondering whether or not he deserves to live in this empty planet, alone. (Or so he thought he was alone.)

A cloud moved and covered a particularly bright star the man was staring at. Just as the star disappeared from the man’s sight, the man felt his heart drop a thousand feet below, to the ground. Oh, did I mention the man was dangling from the clock hand of the clock tower of London. Well, he was.

He wiped the sweat off his forehead. He had been trying to rescue himself for hours. Well, maybe not hours, but a long time indeed.

Why was it so hard for the man, well, for one thing, something inside the man kept telling him to let go of the handle, to fall down...

 

To experience death. Everytime the man tried to climb up, everytime he nearly succeeded to climb up, something pushed him back down, back into his dangling position.

The man’s ears were ringing with the screams, shouts, and calls from his wife. The very memory of her motivates the man to climb back up again, but then, everytime he whispers to himself, “Pull yourself together, live, do it for your wife!” Something, or rather someone (it’s probably something) whispers back in his ears, “What wife, your wife is dead now!” These whispers were louder than the whispers of his loved ones that shook his ears.

You see, the man, he was at brink of life and death, his very life depended on his decision, and his decision depended on his sanity and will to live, and his will to live, and his sanity, well...both are being hideously disturbed by his own, contradicting...feelings, and will to die.

“Oh, Clairissa, why must you die? Why must you leave me? Leave me here to despair, to dangle between decisions,to live or to die, to dangle in my own fear, to dangle in the brink of sanity, to dangle in this forsaken clock hand!”

The man nearly slipped for the second time, but he managed grab on, once more. Then he let go of one arm, and pulled it up to reach the clock hand he had just let go of.

Why isn’t anyone below calling for help, you might ask? Well for one thing it was the dead of the night, and the only people on the street were the people that were riding on cars.

The man felt tired, his hands were sweaty, his sight was getting blurry, he was getting dizzy. The man held on to the clock hand as hard as he could, and closed his eyes.

Then he remembered, the distant shouts of his late wife once again filled his ears. “My wife, her death was...unnatural.” 

            “The police...they filed her death under the ‘unsolved crimes’ files. They said she might have commited suicide, or she might have...just disappeared...” He shut his eyes hard and concentrated. “The police...they...I don’t....” He couldn’t remember clearly, especially because he was on the brink of death.

“That’s it...I must live! I must know! The exact cause of my wife’s death!” It all came back to him now, how he was unsatisfied, or rather, unconvinced with the explanation that the police gave him regarding his wife.

He, at first, upon hearing the story, wanted to investigate the case for himself, he wanted to know for sure. But the day he decided to enter his wife’s room to begin his investigation, he broke down, completely.

He never recovered, he had been negative ever since. All he was able to think about was his wife. Everything, since that day, reminded him of her.

At that moment, his mind was decided, he wanted to live, to properly investigate the case of his wife. He grabbed the clock hand with all his might, and pulled himself up. He managed to get his legs on the ledge of the clock tower. He slowly let go one arm, and the other one. He did it, he didn’t slip. He rested his back on the clock face, and took a deep breath.

“Don’t look down.” He thought to himself as he took another deep breath. He slowly tiptoed on the ledge, and made his way closer and closer to the very edge of the clock face. His back and his left arm were rested on the face of the clock, while his right arm was reaching out, for anything, on the clock that would give him a better grip. “Ha...I’m going to...make it!”

***

 

 

Even he himself didn’t know how, but he made it. About 45 minutes after he was dangling on the edge of life and death, he was safe on the ground, way below the clock tower.

He gasped for breath, and held his chest tight. His other arm leaned on a fence near the clock tower.

He lifted his gaze once more to the sky high above him. Most of the stars had disappeared under the clouds. A strong gust of wind made the man shudder. “It’s going to rain...” He thought.

He carefully made his way to the road, one of his hands was still clutching his chest, and he was still gasping for breath. He raised one of his arms up high at the edge of the street to halt a cab.

“The nearest Inn.” He told the driver. “Yes sir, you need any help sir?” Asked the driver, seeing how the man was struggling to even open the car with only one hand.

“No.” Replied the man as he managed to open the cab door. “Quiet night.” Said the driver as the cab began to move. “I expect...a rain soon.” The man stayed quiet, he was still having a hard time breathing.

At a red light, the cab driver turned to check on the man, “Are you all right sir, you sure you don’t to go to a hospital instead?” He asked. “No...don’t worry, i’m feeling better...” Replied the man.

The drive only took about 15 minutes before the cab reached a small but neat looking Inn on the edge of a quiet street. “Fine Night Inn sir, it’s pretty cheap I’d say.” Said the driver. The man behind him took out his wallet and paid the driver, with a tip. “Thank you very much sir.” Said the driver before he rode off.

The man slowly looked up to the sign above the Inn before he entered, it said ‘Fine Night Inn’ glowing in red. The pain that was on the man’s chest was starting to subside.

“One room for one night please.” Told the man to the Inn receptionist. The Inn lobby was quite a nice one, a small chandelier was hung at the ceiling, and it cast an eerie orange glow on the room. On the left corner of the room there was a neat couch next to a potted plant. Near the entrance door, on the other side of the chair was a magazine rack. The stair leading up was situated next to it.

“Please write name here sir.” Told the receptionist as he pushed a notepad and a pen towards the man. On the notepad he wrote his name, ‘John F. Mason’ and under his name, he wrote his check-in date. ‘20th February 1952’.

That was the man’s name, John F. Mason, I suppose now is the proper time to introduce our character, he was a senior scotland yard detective who was known as being really sharp at collecting clues and putting them together. He has helped the police solve no less than 58 crimes.

For the past few days, however, as you know the man had been in a temporary retirement due to the shock he experienced at the sudden death of his wife. The police was unable to solve the mystery by themselves and they declared it as an ‘unsolved mystery.’

Of course, John himself was unable to help since he had been in a catatonic state ever since. When the police declared the crime as ‘unsolved’, John was initially unconvinced, but since he found himself unable to properly investigate, he gave in, and the case was dropped.

Since then, John would only sit alone at home and spend the whole day mourning over his wife. He hasn’t even visited her bedroom, or rather, their bedroom ever since the tragic incident ... He never found the courage. He considered suicide many times, and as you know, his most recent involved jumping off the clock tower of London, Big Ben.

John only mourned, he never again cared about what really happened to his wife, Clairissa. The real cause of her death.

That is, until that night of course, 20th February 1952. His attempt at suicide actually brightened his mind, and finally made him realize that he needs to solve the crime for himself, or the torment will haunt him forever.

***

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The next morning, 21st February 1952, John woke up early in the morning. He immediately tidied himself up and went down to the Inn lobby.

“Room 231.” He said as he handed over the key to the receptionist. “Please sign right here sir.” Said the receptionist as he pushed the notepad from the night prior towards John. John signed under his name and paid his Inn bill. Before he left he asked the receptionist, “Ah yes, may i use your phone before I leave?”  “Certainly.” The receptionist led him towards the phone, then left.

John dialed the number of his fellow detective and good friend who goes by the name of Renning. Renning, was also the detective that helped the police with the case of Clairissa, replacing John himself in the role.

“Detective Renning Stewart speaking.” Said Renning over the telephone. “Renning my good man, it’s me, John.”

“John? John Mason?”        “Yes.”                      

“Really!? Haha! How are you old friend? I haven’t heard from you in ages.”                                                                     

“Oh, you know...”                            

  “Ah yes, I’m sorry about that, I realize. Anyway, it’s great to hear from you again. I’m happy that you are finally over...you know...”                                    

“Well, i’m not exactly over that...in fact, this is one of the reasons I called you Renning.”  

           “...”                 

“ Would you come to McDouglas’ Cafe this morning? I’d like to meet you there, there’s something I need to talk about with you.”                              

“What time?”                                      

“Around...8.30, perhaps?”                  

“Alright. I’ll meet you there.”                                             

“Thank you.”      

***

 

 

John was still unsure of his decision regarding his contact of a very close friend who was in charge with the case of the murder of his wife, in fact he wasn’t surprised when he noticed the uncertainty and uncomfort in Renning’s voice when he told him that he wanted to touch upon the subject once again.

At around 8 o’clock that morning John left the Inn a took a cab to McDouglas’ Cafe.

Renning himself arrived at the cafe not long after John. “Renning.” John shouted as soon as Renning got off his car. “Ah there you are, my fellow detective, I’m really glad to see you’re finally back to your old self again!” Exclaimed Renning happily as he shook John’s hand. John was quite surprised to find that Renning’s arm was trembling when he shook it.

“Listen...I’m sorry about your wife, and the fact that-I...” Renning didn’t get to finish his sentence as John interrupted with a heavy sigh.

 

“Well, come now, that topic doesn’t need to be the first one that we discuss this fine morning, don’t you think?”

“Well ... yes. You’re right, I’m absolutely sorry about that Johnny.” Replied Renning.

“Let’s talk about you then, how are things going on in scotland yard? What’s your latest case?” Asked John. “Well ...” John could see that Renning was nervous even talking about it, he was biting his lower lip.

“What is it?” Asked John curiously. “I’m a fellow detective just like you.” Renning motioned to the people all around them. “We’re in a public cafe.” He reminded John.

“Ah yes, of course. Haha, you haven’t changed Renning, still as cautious as ever. Let’s talk about that later in my house.” Said John. “While we’re here, let’s talk about more casual stuff, we can’t leave now, I had just ordered coffee, and it’s " ah! Here it is...”

A waiter approached their table and served  the coffee. “Here you are sir.” He said. “Um, I would also like to order one. Cappucino please.” Ordered Renning. “Right away sir, anything else?” Asked the waiter, turning to John. “No, that’ll be all.” He said.

As the waiter scurried away, the two detectives continued their conversation. They talked for over hour, covering many casual subjects such as their hobbies, and reminiscing their past solving cases together. They stopped when the sky suddenly turned dark, and light drops of rain fell.

“Ah, it’s going to rain.” Said John. “Why you’re right.” Said Renning. “Boy, time sure does fly by when you’re spending time with an old friend.” He added as he checked his watch. It was 10 past 9 in the morning.

“I think this rain might turn into a storm any moment, what do you say we continue this conversation in my house?” Offered John.

“I don’t see why not, let’s go in my car.” Said Renning. “That’s a good idea.”

John then paid for both their coffee, and the two detectives left the cafe and drove to his house in Renning’s car. They didn’t talk much during the ride. In fact, they didn’t talk at all until John broke the silence.

“You know, I haven’t been to my house since yesterday morning.” He said. Renning was surprised. “What on earth!? But why? Where did you spend the night then?” He asked.

John stayed silent, he gazed outside the car window, staring at the light rain pouring down. He had his fist to his cheek and for a moment, he was lost, adrift in his own thoughts.

“Did you hear me?” Said Renning, snapping John back to reality. “Oh right ... yes, well ... what were we talking about?” Asked John.

“You said you haven’t been to your house since yesterday morning, and so I asked, why on earth?” Explained Renning. “Oh.” Responded John simply.

“I’m still waiting for your answer.” Said Renning. “Ah yes, of course, pardon me. I haven’t been to my house since...” Before John could finish, the car pulled over in front of John’s house.

“Let’s get inside first, shall we?” Said John. Renning didn’t reply. He didn’t budge as John opened the car door. He was biting his lower lip,  looking nervous.

“Coming?” Asked John as the rain was starting to get heavy and pour into the car. “Yes, of course.” Replied Renning.

The heavy rain poured on them while Renning was waiting for John to unlock his house door. He was struggling to do so, he wasn’t able to find the right key.

The heavy rain was getting worse and worse. They were soaked. “Listen, maybe ... we should continue our conversation ... some other day?” Suggested raining, he was shouting over the rain. “Nonsense, here it is, the right key.” Said John as he finally managed to open the front door.

The two detectives hurried inside. John searched for the light switch as Renning closed the door behind them. The house was pitch black, that was, until John finally found the light switch and flicked it.

Renning gasped. The house was a complete mess. A couple chairs were flipped. Paperwork were scattered everywhere, and one of the table lamps laid broken on the floor.

“I’m sorry, the place is a mess. As I’ve said before anyway, I haven’t been here since yesterday.” Said John as he began tidying the place up a bit.

 

“Are you suggesting someone broke in while you were away?” Asked Renning as he picked up the coat rack from the floor, took off his coat and hat, and placed it there.

“No, the place has been like this since the last time I was here.” Replied John as he picked up some paperwork from the floor. “John, were you ...” Renning was about to ask something, but he was interrupted by John before he could finish.

“Depressed?” He snapped. “Yes, Renning my friend, i was oh - so depressed.” Renning stayed quiet, John heard him gulp as he walked over the mini bar. “Drink?” He asked. “Yes, please ... I would like it.” Replied Renning as he settled on the couch.

“I was so depressed and broken in fact, that I even considered ... suicide.” Said John as he poured himself and Renning a drink.

Renning stayed quiet, he began to sweat, even in the middle of such as a ghastly weather.

“Not only did I consider it, I ... I even attempted it. In fact, that was the very reason I was away yesterday.” John continued. He began to walk towards the couch with Renning, who had a very serious and worried expression on his face.

“The previous night, I wasn’t able to sleep. The torment and guilt and suspicion, all these expression weighed down on me. I was delirious, I took some anti-stress pills but they didn’t help. I was stressed, the stress, it gave me visions of the clock tower that night, and as I laid in my bed, thinking about my wife, I heard whispers in my ears ... those whispers, they were telling me to ... die.”

Renning was about to interrupt, but John continued before he could do so. “Those visions of the clock tower, the mixed emotions, the stress and the whispers, all these seemed to push me beyond this reality. I drifted away... I don’t think I fell to a slumber, no ... it was far too lucid to be a dream. It’s as if...”

“It’s as if ... I was brought back in time, brought back to the day I planned to propose to my wife, 2 years ago...”

Flashback, 1950 London ...

John was nervous. He had just asked his girlfriend, Clairissa the previous day to meet him at a remote, yet beautiful lake in London called ‘Yorkschire Lake’. The lake rarely had visitors, for only a few people knew of its existence, let alone location. John and Clairissa however, were one of those few. And so was Renning.

The couple used to visit the lake all the time, it was their favorite spot to meet. In fact, it was the very place the pair first met.

John and Renning were investigating a case that fateful day when John discovered Clairissa by the lake, just sitting there, feeding some ducks. The girl immediately caught John’s eyes.

“Hello there.” Greeted John as he approached Clairissa. “Oh, hello...” Replied Clairissa. She was a bit caught off guard, and the ducks she were feeding swam away. “What’s a pretty girl like you doing in a place like this all by yourself?” Asked John.

“I always come here by myself ... almost every afternoon in fact.” Said Clairissa as the two began walking alongside the lake. John smiled, “Why?” He asked.

“It’s just very peaceful here...I love it. To just feel the cool wind sweep my hair as i walk along the lakeside. It makes me feel relaxed, it gives me a sense of beauty and peace. Besides, this is the only place i know where i can enjoy this kind of pleasure alone.” She explained.

John was about to open his mouth, but Clairissa suddenly turned her head to face John sharply. “Please dear mister, you won’t reveal this place to anyone would you? It would ruin everything.” She pleaded.

“Don’t worry, i won’t. It’ll be our little secret.” Said John, smiling. She turned her head away and smiled back, blushing.

Since then, the two would meet each other often, like a date. At first, it was just about once a week, then twice, then eventually they would meet each other everyday, usually but not always by the lake.

Then came the day. John had arranged a proposal. The night prior he called Clairissa and asked her to meet him by the lake at around 10 a.m.

That morning he was nervous, even though he had a nice ring reserved for his girl tucked neatly in his pocket, he was still nervous. Who wouldn’t be? He paced back and forth on the sidewalk near the clock tower.

He looked up at the clock and saw that it was 30 minutes past 9 in the morning. Just then he decided, “I’m gonna do it!” he thought to himself.

He arrived at the park around 09.45. When he arrived, Clairissa was already there. John slowly walked over to her, an expression of worry was still on his face. “John, what’s wrong?” Asked Clairissa as she walked quickly towards him.

John stayed quiet as Clairissa slowly wiped the sweat off his cheeks. After a few moments however, he knelt down on his knee, took out the ring and proposed to her. “Clairissa...” He choked out. “Oh Johnny, yes...” She replied as she nearly fell down beside him.

Back in the present day, 1952, in John’s living room...

“Ah, that was such a beautiful memory...” Said John after he retold the story to Renning, who was still sweating.

“That vision...it was so lucid...It’s almost as if i was really there, watching myself propose to my wife.”

“But...That vision of that beautiful day, quickly turned into a nightmare.” He continued.

“As I was saying, in my vision that night, I saw myself propose to my wife, everything was fine until then, everything was going smooth. However, that moment when I saw myself propose, I saw something else. Something disturbing ... could you guess what it was, Renning?” Asked John. He could see that Renning was well immersed into his story. His expression was tight, and so was his grip on the couch. He took a sip out of his drink, and shook his head.

“It was you Renning.” Said John simply. Renning’s eyes bulged. His mouth opened, and he nearly jolted from his chair. But he said nothing.

“Yes ... You were standing, hiding behind some trees. You had a grim expression on your face, a look of hate even.”

 “You were wearing a long dark overcoat, and a gray hat. You know...your usual detective outfit, only...a bit darker, and more mysterious. Then suddenly ... the scene changed. Everything became blurry, the colours blended without rhyme or reason and the whole scene turned into a mess, just before my eyes.” John explained.

“Then...I think I somewhat fell unconscious. You know Renning, somewhat of a black out. When I woke up, I was back in the lake. It felt so real that for a moment i wasn’t sure whether or not I’m still ‘dreaming’, or rather ‘having a vision’.” He continued.

“It turns out I was, because I saw myself. I was kneeling beside something at the edge of the lake far from my view. At first I wasn’t sure what i was doing, but it soon came to me. I was mourning over the grave of my wife, my Clairissa.” John’s expression gradually tightened as he got further in the story, his eyes were blank, but he was still telling the story.

Renning didn’t do anything but watch. He rarely even took a sip out of his drink anymore. There was a moment of silence, John was starting to drift away once more until Renning stammered, “T-then ... then what?” John seemed to have heard this. He slowly turned his head towards Renning and looked at him in the eye. “Then I woke up.” He answered.

“It was like another black out, and then, suddenly ... I woke up.” He explained. “It was morning. My eyes felt dry, and I had a sore taste in my mouth.” John finally blinked and his eyes moved again, he had once again awoken from his trance.

“That day I decided to visit my wife’s grave for real. You know Renning, the one you had built for me, without the actual body of course.” Renning stayed quiet, he looked down, raised his glass and took a gulp.

“Aaah, yes ... this whole experience crushed me Renning, it really did.” Said John.

“I sat by my wife’s empty grave and mourned over her for hours that day. I didn’t care about anything, and the time passed without my knowing. Before I realized it, it was already evening.” John continued.

“I left the grave at around 5 p.m. that day, but I had lost the will to do anything. I was driving very slowly. I was very tired, but I didn’t want to go home. I didn’t want to sleep, because I knew the next day wouldn’t be any different. No, I wanted to die...”

“So ... you were serious?” Asked Renning quietly. John nodded. “Somehow, I didn’t remember how, but somehow I managed to get up all the way to the top of the Big Ben, and even more amazingly, I managed to get outside, and stand ... right in front of the clock face. You know, the clock hands were a swipe away. All this without even getting noticed and caught.” He said.

 

“H-How!?” Asked Renning, stuttering. “Like I told you Renning, I forgot how I did it, but I did it.” Explained John. “Surely you must be joking ... right? Haha...” Said Renning as he let out a small chuckle.

“It’s the truth, I’m telling you. Of course, it’s up to you whether or not you want to believe me. It doesn’t really matter at all.” Said John as he smiled himself.

“Well, how did you get off then?” Asked Renning in a demanding tone. “Well, it’s the same story really.” Replied John. “I didn’t remember how I did it, but I did it.”

“It was a real struggle though, I can tell you that. This feeling suddenly came to me. A feeling that made me decide to live on, to properly investigate the death of my wife. Only then, can I be at peace.” He continued.

John smiled. “Well now, that’s not so important. I’m alive now, and that’s what matters, correct?” He said.

“Yes, exactly. Besides, I’ve told you everything I knew about the investigation of the case of your wife. It’s tragic I agree, but don’t you see? It has driven you into madness, Clairissa wouldn’t want that, would she? I think you should just give up on this case, John. I think working on this is extremely dangerous, since you might be risking your sanity as well.” Said Renning.

“This sort of thing has happened before, don’t you remember? What was that ... 3 years ago, you know, when we investigated the case of poor what’s-his-name ... Jackson Murvey? You know, the man who commited suicide because he was driven insane over the loss of his lover. Poor thing.” He continued. John stayed quiet.

“You nearly ended up the same way didn’t you? If you don’t let go of this case, you will probably end up the same. I suggest you just take a rest, and forget about this whole thing.” Renning concluded.

“But the very ... ‘thing’ that kept me from commiting suicide even though I was so close was the thought that I must properly investigate the case, how could I just give up on it now?” Asked John in a worried tone.

“You said it before didn’t you? All those nightmares, and visions, and voices, they don’t matter now. Now, that you’re alive.” Answered Renning reassuringly. “I’m no master at psychology, I’m not a psychiatrist, but if you’re still having trouble getting over her, I suggest you consult one. Then ... forget about things, then ... go back to being a proper detective, go back to your job eh?”

John stayed quiet for a few moments. Then, he stood up and looked around the messy room. He sighed, “Ha ... perhaps you’re right. I think I might do just that tomorrow. Then I could start cleaning up this messy room. Would you like to help out?” He asked.

 

“What tomorrow?” Asked Renning back. “Yes, of course.” Answered John. “Nah, I’m sorry, I can’t if it’s tomorrow. As you know, I’m currently in the middle of investigating a case.” Replied Renning.

“Oh yes ... I forgot about that, what case are you on again? You didn’t answer the first time I asked you at the cafe.” Said John.

“A jewelry robbery.” Said Renning. “A man, a jewelry salesman to be exact, left town three days ago and while away, he asked his wife who was in town to mail him some of his jewelry that accidently left behind. The wife did as she was told and mailed it away.” He explained.

“Then what?” Asked John, intrigued. “The man returned just yesterday and when his wife asked him about the jewelry she had mailed him, he said he never even asked for her to mail anything his way.” Renning continued. “So it’s gone?” Asked John. “It’s gone ...”

“That is rather intriguing, how did the wife receive the fake news that her husband asked for the jewelry to be sent, a letter, a phone call?” Asked John.

“A letter, it had the specific address in which the jewelry must be sent. Coincidentally, the address is the room next to the salesman’s own room in the Inn he was staying at while he was away, in Birmingham. That played a big part in why the wife believed the letter. I’m going there myself tomorrow, first thing in the morning, pre-dawn.” Explained Renning.

“Well, why didn’t she call him first before sending, just to make sure?” Asked John. “The letter specifically told her not to.” Answered Renning. “Well this wife you’re talking about sure is a gullible one isn’t she?” Said John, chuckling.

“Did she actually know where her husband kept the jewelry?” He asked. “Of course, he was her husband.”

“Well, that’s not always the case you know, not all couples are always open to each other about everything. My wife, Clairissa for instance ... she was rather secretive. Sometimes late at night, she would be wide awake, writing long, mysterious letters at the bedside with the bedlamp on. She always did this when she thought I was asleep, when in reality, I was quietly looking over my shoulder on the other side of the bed.” Said John.

“She would also often get mysterious letters replying back to her. One time, I came home early and I found her cautiously waiting by the mailbox. She said she was waiting for a letter from a friend. I was always rather suspicous though. The moment she received the letters she would put them in a secret box in her drawer, locked with a key she always took with her wherever she goes, in a pretty red handbag. She never knew that I knew all this. She was careful, but not careful enough.” He continued.

“I suppose now that she’s gone, along with her handbag, I’ll never find out what those letters were actually ever about.” Renning sat still, he didn’t say a word.

“Ah I’m sorry, this was your story. I do apologize, anyways back to the case?” Said John. “Of course, well ... Yes, the letter only asked for the wife to mail her husband the jewelry, without any specifications which one, and she naturally assumed which one it was, and ... she mailed it.” Explained Renning.

“Just like that?” Asked John in disbelief. “That’s why she’s a gullible one.” Said Renning, chuckling.

“Well, the rain is getting light ... I suppose I should get going now.” He said as he stood up from his chair. “One more thing, Renning.” John interrupted as Renning was heading towards the coat rack to pick up his coat.

“How long are you gonna be away?” Asked John. “3 days.” Answered Renning simply.

“Would you like me to take care of your house while you’re away?” Asked John again. Renning laughed, “Are you kidding? I thing you’ve got enough trouble with your own home.” He said as he looked around the still messy room.

“Besides, I’ve already hired a caretaker to take care of things in my home.” He added. “So that’s a no?” Asked John, still insisting. “Yes, that’s a no. I appreciate the offer, but you don’t need to do that. Goodbye John.” Said Renning as he opened the door.

“Okay then, see you in three days.” Said John as he held the door while Renning walked out. “Yes, I’m hoping to see you back in the detective business again then.” Shouted Renning as he opened his car door.

As Renning drove away, John closed the door and went back to his chair. You thought he was really going to take his friend’s advice and give up on the case of his wife? Of course not.

John sat by himself in his messy living room for about one hour after Renning left, but he wasn’t mourning over his wife again, no. This time he was devising a plan. A plan that would help him solve the case of his wife.

“This opportunity can’t be missed, such a perfect time for Renning to be away.” He thought. “Let’s see ... Renning’s house ... Of course.” He remembered. “There’s a small Inn just across the street of his house. I’ll get a room there, pick the one with the window facing the road. That way tonight I can watch and spy on his every move. That’s sure to help me gain entrance to his house, which is a crucial point if I want to solve this case.”

With that, John stood up, and went to his room, for the first time since ... well, the first time he decided to investigate the case of his wife himself, and the first time through, he broke down completely just by entering the room. Will he end up the same again this time?

“No.” He convinced himself strictly. Slowly he turned the knob and opened the door. This very effort made him sweat.

Slowly, very slowly he opened the door. He stepped in, and turned the light on. John shrieked, he nearly fell, for a second he thought he saw his wife, sleeping on the bed.

Of course, that wasn’t real. No one was really there. Aside from the dust, the room was still in a pretty neat shape, since John never once entered it while he was on his depressed state.

John thankfully realized this. He pulled himself back to his feet, and looked around the room. “There’s nothing here, Johnny. Only you, only you.” He convinced himself, but in a stuttery and worried voice. He was trembling, he was sweating, cold sweat. He was breaking down again.

He grabbed his head by the ears and closed his eyes.

He was struggling, struggling to even keep himself conscious. He was kneeling down, he felt like he was about to completely break down again.

But he didn’t. He conquered it. After only a few moments of clutching his head, he stood up. He felt relieved. “I-I...I did it!” He choked out with his gasping breath. He wiped the sweat off his forehead and realized. “It’s very damp in here.”

He went over the window and untied the curtain. The thick dust made him cough. As he opened the window, a cool breeze of air swept inside the room. He peered out. It was still gloomy. The clouds were still grey and the road and trees were still wet from the rain.

Nevertheless, John was relieved. After a moment of catching the cool air in front of the window, he went over to the wardrobe to pick up his darkest coat and detective hat. He also picked up a false beard and sunglasses.

From his personal detective cabinet he also picked up a telephoto zoom lens and of course, his notepad.

Before he left the room however, something else caught his eye. The bedside table with the lamp near the side in which his wife usually slept in.

He went over to it, and slowly opened the drawer. Inside it, not to his surprise, was the mysterious box that Clairissa always suspiciously kept to herself. “Oh what could you be hiding ... if only I have the key...” He muttered to himself as he held the box.

“You might contain just the clues that I need.” Said John before he set it back into the drawer and closed it. “Perhaps tomorrow I’ll call my friend Louis and see if he could craft a key that would open the lock.” He thought to himself as he exited the bedroom.

He sprinted through the messy living room towards the front door.

“Sorry house, I guess you’ll have to stay messy and unattended for at least 1 more day.” He muttered to himself as he opened the door and left.

The drive to Renning’s house didn’t take that long. It was about 04.30 in the afternoon when John arrived at the street. Of course he didn’t park directly in front Renning’s house, he parked at the far end of the street, took out his telephoto lens and observed the house.

Renning was not there. The car was not parked in front, and the house looked like it didn’t have anyone in it. He also noticed, rather disappointingly, that the Inn was not directly across Renning’s house, but rather two buildings away from the building that was directly across, which was a small store.

He then shifted the telephoto lens to focus at the Inn he was planning to stay at.

 

“Good. The top right window still provides a clear view of Renning’s house. Let’s just hope it’s not taken.” He thought to himself.

He then drove closer to the Inn and parked in front of it. As he opened the car door however, he noticed something. “Renning has seen this car before, he would notice it’s mine immediately.” He thought.

He looked around, and noticed that the car in front of him has a tarp covering it. He quickly exited his own car, and went inside the Inn.

“Excuse me, do you know who that car belongs to, the one with the tarp covering it?” Asked John to the receptionist. “Oh.” Said the receptionist as she looked out the window to see which car John was talking about.

“I do believe that car belongs to the person next door sir, and I do think he has been away for about 4 days now. A vacation perhaps?” She explained.

Before John could say anything, the phone in the back room of the Inn suddenly rang. “Oh do excuse me, I gotta take this.” Said the receptionist before she went to the back room to answer.

John suddenly had an idea. “Please last long.” He prayed, referring to the telephone call. As soon as the receptionist lady disappeared from sight, John went back to his car, and parked it this time in front of the covered car. He then got off, took off the tarp from the car behind him, and used it to cover his own car.

The difference between his own and the covered car was not much. Just different enough that Renning won’t mistake it for John’s car, but not too different that the old receptionist lady would really be suspicious enough to investigate.

It was only slightly different in color and plate number.

By the time the receptionist lady came out of the back room and back to her table, John had already finished covering his car.

He went back inside and asked the receptionist lady, “Is the room with the window on the top right, facing the street available?”

“Let me see ... the top room on the right with the window facing the street ... Room 11” Mumbled the lady as she flipped through a notebook. “Why yes, yes it is. The person who last stayed there left just this morning. It sure is a popular one.” She said chuckling.

“I’ll take it.” Said John simply. “Allright, write your name here please, sir.” Ordered the lady as she handed a pen and the notebook to John.

John wrote the name ‘George Workman’ on the notebook. It was a combination name of two characters he remembered from a book he last read.

“Here’s your key Mr. Workman.” Said the receptionist lady as she handed over the key to John, smiling. John took it and went upstairs to his room.

The room was not very comfortable, it was small and everything felt cramp. It wasn’t even that clean, and the bedside table lamp was broken. “I wonder why this room is so popular.” Thought John to himself as he took off his sunglasses and hat.

He went over the window and tested his telephoto lens to zoom in on Renning’s house, on his top window where his study room was. It had a clear view. “Perfect.” Said John. “Now all we have to do is wait ... wait till Renning gets back home.”

***

 

 

 

John waited for nearly two hours, he was sitting on the chair by the table near the window. He had fallen asleep. It was damp, he kept the curtain of the window nearly closed, and the lights were all turned off. He thought it would be best if Renning didn’t even know that the room was taken.

Suddenly, something woke John up. It was probably his own instincts. He checked his watch, it was 06.30. The room was really dark, the only thing inside that he could see was the table to his left. On top of it was his telephoto lens. The only light that provided him with that view came from the moon outside. He couldn’t even see his bed, or the door to his room though, the moonlight didn’t reach that far into the room.

Slowly, he grabbed his telephoto lens and very carefully lifted the curtain by the side, just enough for him to peek out. He was right on time, Renning had just gotten out of his car.

John held the telephoto lens to his eye, and zoomed in. Renning was still wearing the same coat he wore while at John’s place. “Perfect. He had been investigating the case about the jewelry the whole day.” Thought John.

“The coat was soaking wet from the rain when Renning wore it at my place, so if he had gotten a chance to get home before this, he definitely would’ve changed. He haven’t, meaning he hasn’t been home since he was at my place.” He concluded as he observed Renning unlock his front door.

Just as he was about to open the door however, he suddenly turned around. John was nearly seen, but he wasn’t. He ducked just in time for Renning to not notice. (Or so he thought).

After a few seconds, John slowly raised his head again, but Renning was not there anymore.

He had already gone inside. John gasped out a sigh of relief. He wiped some sweat off his forehead, and lifted his telephoto lens to his eyes again.

John used the telephoto lens to scan Renning’s house, he checked the windows one by one. All of them were still dark, save for the top right window, the one with the balcony.

The light suddenly flicked on, and a shadow appeared in view. The shadow was of course, Renning’s. He slowly walked towards the window, smoking a cigar.

In front of the window was Renning’s chair and study desk. On the desk was a telephone, a bunch of documents neatly stacked, a notepad, and a desk lamp.

Renning walked right past the table, opened the window, and stood on the balcony. He stood there for a while, staring at the pale moon up in the otherwise dark sky.

John was ready to duck down, but Renning wasn’t looking his way, so he continued spying. For a while Renning stood there staring blankly at the moon. John grew tired. He was about to take a break when he suddenly noticed Renning mouth “Ah, Clairissa...” to the moon before slowly turning back to his study room.

This gave John a heavy blow to his heart. Suddenly he felt the air around him grow denser, tighter, he was having another psychological complex.

“John...John...” These whispers were ringing in his ears. “No...” He choked. The darkness of the room didn’t help either, in every corner of the room he saw a ghastly figure, pale, dressed in white, in his wife’s wedding gown.

“Ack...Help...leave me...” John helplessly choked, he turned away from the window. As much as he needed fresh air, he still chose to remain hidden. He still didn’t want to risk getting caught by Renning.

John toppled a few steps back and fell on the bed. From the ceiling he faintly saw what seemed like (in his mind) two angels (which resembled Clairissa) carrying a lantern, from which fumes came out of.

His eyes bulged, everything seemed distorted in his mind, and the last thing he saw was the fumes from the ghastly figure that reminded him of his lost Clairissa, enveloping him.

It seemed heavy, the world around him was spinning, and in a blink of an eye, he was at another place. This had occured to John before of course, he was having another vision, a vision of the past. A Flashback.

Flashback, 13th February 1952 London...

John and Renning were both at Renning’s house, having coffee, smoking cigars, and chatting casually.

 

“So how about it?” Asked John. “My wife’s going away this Friday night, the 15th, and we’re both currently not working on a case. Whaddya say we go pay our old college a visit? Perhaps after that, we could go see our old friend Gordon, we’ll have a such a great night.”

“The 15th? I can’t on the 15th, I’m seeing off an old friend who will be going away on a trip to America.” Replied Renning.

“Well, that’s a funny coincidence, isn’t it? My wife’s away because she’s meeting a friend who’s coming from America.” Said John.

“Ah, yes ... that is a coincidence. A rather unfortunate one I might add. What about tomorrow?” Asked Renning.

“Nah, I can’t tomorrow, tomorrow’s valentine’s day remember? Clairissa and I are going for a ‘fancy’ dinner.” Replied John.

“Ah, pity ... guess we’ll have to go another time then ...” Said Renning.

The John from the current time was watching closely from the hallway. “This is ...” He blurted out, but before he could finish, he felt a sudden sharp in his head. His eyes felt like they were going to pop out. He closed both of em tightly and clutched his head by the ears.

A zooming noise and the ticking of clocks filled his head. He wanted to shriek, but over the loud buzzing noise he couldn’t a thing.

15th February 1952, John’s house

John approached his bedroom door and gently knocked. “May I come in?” He asked softly. “Yes.” Replied a soft voice from inside the room.

It was Clairissa, she was standing in a beautiful red gown in front of her favorite dressing table with the mirror.

“What do you think?” She asked. “Beautiful.” Said John simply, stunned.

“Who is this friend of yours anyway, why must you dress so elegantly?” He asked as he led her out of the bedroom and into the living room.

“Well, this person was a very close childhood friend of mine, she was my best friend actually, and we haven’t seen each other in almost 10 years. I think it’s only proper that I dress nicely.” She explained.

“Well, you sure you don’t want to bring me along? You could introduce me.” Said John. “Oh no, she’s very ... shy. Besides, she doesn’t even have a boyfriend yet, I think she wouldn’t be comfortable if I had brought you along. You’re not offended are you?” Asked Clairissa.

“No...of course not. Besides, I trust you completely darling.” Said John. “Thank you Johnny.” Said Clairissa as she kissed John on his right cheek.

 

This time, the John from the current time was in the living room with his past self and his late wife, but of course, he wouldn’t be noticed. John could feel another jab of pain to his chest the moment he witnessed his past self close the door behind Clairissa. That was the last time he ever saw her.

The rushing sensation was coming back to him again, the buzzing noise, and the feeling that his eyes were going to pop out. He covered his head with both of his hands again, but the sensation did not stop. His eyes wouldn’t close.

Everything morphed into a blur right before his wide open eyes. It made him feel really dizzy...the world around him was spinning and twisting right before his eyes, before suddenly...darkness...

***

 

 

John blinked a few times, but the darkness remained. He panicked, he tried moving his arms frantically before him, but he could hardly see it.

“What...is...going on here?” John thought to himself. Wherever he was, it was very hot. He was sweating immensely and his eyes were moist. John tried rubbing it a few times before he remembered something.

“Wait a minute ... this must be my Inn room! I remember!” John punched and rubbed the material that he was sitting on. “It’s true...this is a bed.” He carefully made his way to the edge and waved his arms around, trying to find the table lamp, and sure enough, it was there.

John flicked it on, but it didn’t come on. “Of course, It’s broken.” He thought. He stood up and carefully walked over to the window, the only source of light in the room. “Renning! I fell asleep!” He suddenly remembered.

The moonlight had dimmed since the last time John remembered. A large cloud nearly covered all of it when he checked outside.

He could barely even make out what was in the table right by the window, and that was a problem too, since John didn’t remember where he last put his telephoto lens.

He slowly lifted the curtains to check whether or not Renning was still home, and he was, still in his study room in fact, but John couldn’t make out what exactly he was doing without his telephoto lens, and the fact that Renning hasn’t left yet means that it’s still not safe for him to turn on the lights.

“Come on, come on!” John frantically searched all over his table. He knocked a few things off, but he didn’t care, it was probably his notepad, or so he thought. He finally grabbed something a bit heavy on the table and he lifted it up. “Yes!” He thought, for what he just grabbed was his telephoto lens.

John quickly knelt beside the table with his telephoto lens in hand and opened the curtain. As he did, the moonlight from outside shed a light on John’s watch and he was startled to see what time it was: 03.25

“03.25 in the morning!? Of course, this must be about time Renning must leave to Birmingham.” He realized.

John observed Renning’s window through his telephoto lens and saw that Renning was already wearing a dark new coat with a hat, and beside his table were two suitcases neatly set at the side. He looked like he was packed and ready to go.

Renning himself, he was writing a letter, unfortunately the telephoto lens did not have the capability to zoom close enough for John to see what he was writing.

After he was done writing the letter, Renning curiously didn’t put it in an envelope.

He simply folded it and brought it with him alongside his two travelling suitcases as he exited the room and flicked the light off behind him.

Soon after, Renning appeared at the front door, carrying the two suitcases of course, but strangely not the letter. He cautiously looked around the street, but fortunately he didn’t look at the window John was spying from.

As soon as he made sure that the street was empty (which it was), he crouched down and slipped a small latchkey under the mat.

“Perfect.” John thought to himself, smiling. “That letter must be for the house sitter who will enter the house through the front door using the latchkey that Renning left for her under the mat.” He concluded.

After leaving the key under the mat, Renning proceeded towards his car and after he loaded his travelling suitcases into his trunk, he drove away.

As soon as John was sure Renning was out of sight and wouldn’t come back to pick up anything he left behind, he jumped to his feet and ran towards the direction in which he thought the door was at in the complete darkness.

He bumped and nearly tripped over some things, but he made it to the door. He reached out his right arm and waved it along the wall trying to find the light switch.

The sudden flash of light that washed over the room as soon as he flicked on the switch forced John into darkness again, for he had to cover his eyes to take time to slowly adjust.

He squinted and carefully made his way to the table to get his notepad, which was not there anymore, but rather on the floor.

He picked it up along with his pen and checked his watch, 03.45.

After turning the lights of his room again, John exited his Inn room and went downstairs to the lobby. The old receptionist lady was reading some sort of a magazine there.

“Mr. Workman? Is that you?” She asked as she noticed John (under the name of George Workman) heading towards the door.

“Ah-yes...” Replied John, caught off guard. “I just couldn’t sleep very well and so I thought I would get some fresh air by taking a small stroll outside, that’s all.” He explained.

“Oh, well okay then.” Replied the lady before she continued reading her magazine. John gasped out a sigh of relief continued towards the lobby door.

The moon was shining brightly again, the cloud that had covered it before had disappeared. John felt completely refreshed as the cool night air brushed over him. “What a relaxing night...” He thought.

John slowly turned his head back to check on the receptionist lady. She was still focused on reading her magazine and was not looking his way.

“Perfect.” Said John as he began to skip to the other side of the road, the side with Renning’s house.

Before he approached Renning’s house, John glanced once more at the receptionist lady inside the Inn. It wasn’t very clear to him since he forgot to bring his telephoto lens, but it seemed to him like she was still reading her magazine soundly without one bit of suspicion.

After he was sure that the lady wasn’t looking his way, he approached Renning’s house, opened the front gate, and went towards the front door.

Fortunately, John still remembered exactly where Renning had put the latchkey. He had woken up at precisely the right moment earlier.

He crouched down beside the mat, lifted it, and grabbed the key from under it. All the while, John was sweating bullets. The panic rushed back to him, he quickly glanced back to check on the receptionist lady...who just opened the door of the Inn and went outside.

John panicked, he quickly dove at the nearest bush and kept there for a while. “Hello?” Asked the receptionist lady. She was looking right at the direction of the bush that John was hiding under.

“Hello? Is anyone there?” She asked again, suddenly her voice became stern. It was such a big change of tone that John hardly believed it was the same gullible receptionist lady with the sweet motherly voice.

After shouting for the third time, the receptionist lady returned to the Inn, but then quickly came back with a flashlight.

It barely missed the bush that John was hiding in.

“I must stop this now...” He thought, panicking. “I must stop this before she comes closer to investigate or even call police, or worse...wake everybody in this neighborhood.”

He had no other choice, he was brainstorming, all the while waiting, praying for the old receptionist lady to just return to her magazine. But she didn’t, in fact she seemed to be more intrigued than before. She was getting closer.

“I have no other choice...I could only hope the lady is really gullible. Really.” Thought John before he quietly whispered, “Meow.”

The lady stopped dead in her track. The light coming from her flashlight froze. “Meow.” John repeated in his smallest, squeakiest tone of voice.

John waited in silence for a few moments, he felt like his heart was thumping louder than the cat imitations he made.

“Phew.” The receptionist lady sighed in relief. “It was only a cat...” She chuckled as she made her way back to her Inn.

John was in disbelief. He couldn’t belief that the lady was that innocent and gullible. At first, he even thought the lady was only pretending to fall for his trick in order to lure him out.

That wasn’t the case though. After watching the window of the Inn for quite some time, John was sure that the lady was not spying on him and that she actually was that gullible.

Still in disbelief, he slowly and carefully raised himself up, trying to make as little noise as possible. His fake beard and hat were all littered with the leaves from the bush. “I’ll need to clean this up before I get back to the Inn later on...” He thought. “Then again, if the lady is that gullible, I might just have to tell hersome foolish storty...nah, I’ll just clean this up.”

After cleaning up a bit, John reached into his pocket for the latchkey and opened the front door of Renning’s house.

The hallway was dark, but there was a light switch right next to the door, and since there were no windows in the narrow hallway, John flicked the switch and turned the light on.

On the table in the middle of the hallway next to the living room entrance, was a note. “Aha, the same note that Renning wrote earlier, but didn’t bring outside. The one that he didn’t put in an envelope. Let’s see if I was right about it being for the house sitter.” Thought John as he approached table. The note read:

Dear Mrs. Winfrey

            If you are right on time, you should be reading this letter at about 06.00 in the morning. You may start right away by cleaning the living room followed by the other rooms. Once you are done, you may go home. But please, no earlier than 6 pm. Thank you

P.S.

Once you’ve entered, keep the latchkey. Do not slip the key back under the mat when you leave.

Renning Stewart

John checked his watch, it was already 04.00 in the morning. “2 hours, that’s not enough for me to search through the whole place, let alone put everything back in place as if it was untouched and then leave.” He thought.

John thought about changing the note by erasing the part that said ‘Do not’ by running a line of ink over it, but then he thought better of it, “No, what if Renning calls in on her to check on things and she explains that the note specifically told her to slip the latchkey back under the mat. Renning would be suspicious no doubt.”

John was walking back and forth quietly on the hallway, trying to figure out an idea. Then it came to him, “I’ll duplicate the key.”

He rushed over to the living room, flicked on the lights, and went over to the phone. He called Louis, a friend of his who happens to be a locksmith. The phone call was not answered for a long time, so John had to dial again before someone finally picked it up.

“Louis the locksmith speaking.”        “Louis! Thank god you woke up.”  “W-wait a minute who is this?”          “Your friend John. John Mason, the detective.”          “John!? W-whoa, whoa buddy how...”                      “Listen, open up your store right now, I’ll be right over.”                             “Right now!? Hold on now John, I know we haven’t seen each other in a while, but can’t we meet tomorrow? This is 4 in the morning.”                     “Please! This is urgent detective business! I’ll explain everything later. Please! I don’t have much time.”      “D-detective b-business!? B-but...”    “Just do it!”                                                   “O-okay...”

As he put the telephone down, John realized he had made a big mistake. He had turned on the lights. On the living room. The room with the wide windows.

John bit his lower lip in frustration before he quickly got out of the room and turned off the lights behind him. He prayed the gullible old lady hadn’t noticed.

John realized it would be too big of a risk to go out the front door, so he went out through the backdoor, and crept by the side of the house in the darkness.

“Safe.” He thought as he had made it out of Renning’s house and to the street again. His relief however, was very shortlived since he immediately noticed something else that would mean trouble for him.

His car. He would have to take the tarp off of it in order to get in and start it up, but with the lady still inside the Inn he wouldn’t be able to do that.

“Damn. I’ll have to take a cab then.” He thought as brushed his beard to clean off the few leaves that were left on it from earlier.

John had to walk all the way to the end of the street in silence before crossing over to the other side with the Inn, so that the old receptionist wouldn’t notice.

“Mr. Workman, you’re back.” She greeted as John entered the Inn. “Ah yes, but I’m going away again very soon. I need to call a cab, may I use the telephone?” He asked.

“Oh, of course, it’s in the back.” Replied the lady. “Thank you.” Said John before he went to the back room and called a cab.

As he returned to the lobby to wait for it, the receptionist lady asked him, “Um, if you don’t mind me asking Mr. Workman, is there something wrong with your car?”

“Oh, um...no, but, wait...I mean yes!” Replied John.

“W-why, for some reason it wouldn’t work, t-that’s all...” He explained. “Oh dear, well I’m sorry to hear that Mr. Workman.” Said the receptionist lady. “By the way Mr. Workman, would you mind if I tell you something?” She asked. “No, not at all.”

“Well, not too long ago, while I was reading my magazine, I heard some ruffling noises, and when I looked outside, it almost seemed to me like I saw someone standing in front of that house right there.” Explained the receptionist as she pointed her finger toward Renning’s house. John gulped.

“So naturally, I went outside to investigate right, but the person had disappeared. I saw something jump into a bush next to the door, but it was too dark to actually see what it was. So, I came back, grabbed a flashlight, and returned to investigate. I walked closer and closer to the house with the flashlight in hand, but suddenly before I even got there, I heard a meow, the sound of cat.”

John dug his arms into the pockets of his jacket and pretended as best as he could not to look nervous. “A-and then what?” He asked.

“Well, I dismissed it since I thought it was all just a cat that had been making all the noise, so, I returned back to this Inn  to read my magazine again.” Replied the receptionist lady.

John laughed vaguely. He prayed the lady would stop the story there and leave it as a funny story, but she didn’t.

“Oh that’s not all, Mr. Workman.” She said suddenly with a serious face. John gulped once again. “I-it’s n-not?”

“No. You see Mr. Workman, I occasionaly checked on the house every five minutes or so. I don’t know why I did it, perhaps it’s just that I was still suspicious?” She continued. “Anyways, not too long ago, I saw the light on the living room was on when I could’ve sworn it was off the first few times I checked on it.” She explained.

“At first, I couldn’t believe my eyes, so I took off my reading glasses, rubbed my eyes a few times, and when I checked on it again, the light was suddenly back off again.” She continued.

“What do you think Mr. Workman? Do you think my eyes were simply playing tricks on me, or do you think there really is someone in there? Should I call the police?” She asked with a worried look on her face.

“Well...what about the person who lives there?” Asked John. “Well, he left about an hour ago, I saw it myself Mr. Workman.” She explained.

“Well, perhaps it was the house keeper?” Said John as he turned his face away from the receptionist lady to hide his panic. “This is weird.” He thought. “I’m usually a calm and collective detective, why am I so nervous? Perhaps, it’s because I’m doing the crime instead of trying to solve it?”

“Well it couldn’t be the housekeeper Mr. Workman, I’ve been here all day and night and I haven’t seen anyone come in to that house.” Said the receptionist lady. “Perhaps I should call the police...”

“Wait, you’ve been here all day and night?” Asked John. “You haven’t taken one break?” The old lady shook her head.

“Then you must be very tired, and tired people do tend to see things that are not actually there.” Explained John.

“Oh...” Gasped the lady. “You must be right Mr. Workman, I am awfully tired.” Just then, a cab drove into the front of the Inn and the driver honked the horns.

“I must get going now, please take a rest Mrs...”

“Miss Norma.” Said the old receptionist lady. “Yes. Please take a rest Miss Norma. There’s no one in that house.” Said John.

John waved to the old lady who began to look as if she was starting to calm down. She smiled weakly as John opened the Inn door and got out.

The drive from the Inn to Louis’ locksmith shop took about 15 minutes. Fortunately for John, Louis appeared and greeted him as he got out of the cab.

“John my old friend, what’s this all about, eh?” Asked Louis with a smile. He still had a sleepy look on his face.

“I’ll need you to duplicate this key. Quickly, could you finish it in under an hour?” Ordered John as he pulled out Renning’s key from his pocket and showed it to Louis.

Louis looked at it for a bit, then said, “Hmm, yeah. A small, ordinary latchkey like this shouldn’t be a problem. I’ll finish it in under 30 minutes.”

 

“Thanks....*phew*..” Said John as he followed Louis into his small shop.

He grabbed a seat next to the counter as Louis began preparing his equipments. “So, uh... John my old friend, is this one of those secret detective businesses that you’re currently working on? Must be important huh, for you (and me) to be up this early crafting a duplicate key.” Said Louis, chuckling.

“Exactly.” Replied John. “You just explained it yourself, you saved me the trouble.” He laughed. “Maybe later once this case is solved and it’s no longer a secret, I can tell you. Maybe. You don’t mind, do you?”

“No, it’s a pleasure helping out a friend who is a detective, trying to solve a dangerous crime case, huh? Haha.” Said Louis.

The duplication of the key was much quicker than John had expected. Louis managed to do it in only about 15 minutes.

“Here you go, Johnny O” Said Louis as he handed both the original key and the duplicate to John.

“Excellent, thanks a lot Louis. How much?” Asked John. “For you? Free.” Replied Louis. “Free? No, no, Louis, you did get up this early to open your store just for one customer.” John insisted.

“Haha, well, if you insist John, a buck’ll do I suppose.” Replied Louis. “2 bucks. Keep the change.” Said John as he gave the man 2 dollars.

“Heh, thank you very much John, you really didn’t have to. But thanks anyway.” Thanked Louis. “Oh, and uh, one more thing Louis, could I use your phone, I need to call a cab.” Asked John. “Oh sure, sure. Go right ahead, but if you don’t mind me asking, where is that hot detective car you were always driving eh? Haha.” Said Louis as he picked up the phone from under the counter and shoved it to John on the table.

“Broken. Just wouldn’t start, I don’t know why. I haven’t had the time to have it on over to the garage.” Answered John as he dialed the number for the cab.

***

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It was about 10 minutes when John arrived back at the inn. He had gotten out of his cab at the far end of the street and sneaked the past the inn to slip the real key back under the mat in front of Renning’s house before going in.

The old receptionist lady was asleep at the counter. John smiled and tiptoed his way back up to his room, he tried his best not to wake up the old lady, and he succeeded.

John was really tired. He still hasn’t decided whether he should sleep or wait for Renning’s housekeeper to arrive and gain entrance to the house without the slightest bit of suspicion. He knew didn’t have to do that, but he still felt like doing it just to be save.

But he didn’t. He waited for about 10 minutes before he decided it would be best for him to take at least a quick nap. Well, for him, that quick nap turned into a slumber.

 

John woke up about 6 hours later at 11.00 am. He was awakened the continous knocking at his door. “Coming.” He said sleepily. He nearly tripped on some stuff on his way to the mirror. He was incredibly messy and sweaty, but he had not changed before going to sleep the previous night. Even his fake beard was still on, and that was really starting to burn his face.

John was dizzy, the fact that he overslept did not refresh him at all. He’s not as tired as he were before he slept, but he was still, if not, even more dizzy than before.

As John struggled to tidy himself up, the knocking on his door got louder and louder. “Coming, Norma, coming.” He said impatiently before coming to the door.

To his surprise, it wasn’t Norman, it was an attractive young lady. “Well, hello...” Said John, not having finished his sentence. The girl smiled.

 

“I’m Martha, Norma’s grand-niece.  Norma left this morning, and I’m on my school break, so Norma asked me to cover for her. She said she was exhausted and has even been seeing things. She told there were only 2 guests at the inn when she left. The other person left this morning, not long after Norma herself left. Norma said she wasn’t sure whether or not you were even at the inn when she left. She said you went strolling last night, didn’t you, Mr. Workman.” Asked the polite girl Martha.

“Well, yes...yes I was.” Replied John, stuttering. Martha smiled and continued, “Hm. Well anyways, after Norma left, I decided to check on you, I knocked on your door and you responded. You didn’t say anything, you just groaned or something I think. But the point is, I knew you were there. It was around 08.00 am, so I thought you were still asleep. But when you haven’t woke up by 11, I was sorta worried something was wrong, that’s why I woke you up.”

“Oh, right...” Said John as he smiled vaguely. He was still sweating. “You’re such a big sleeper, aren’t you Mr. Workman, haha.” Teased Martha. John only smiled. They were both making their way downstairs to the lobby.

“Do you want some coffee?” Asked Martha. “Please.” Answered John. Martha smiled and slipped away into the back room.

While Martha was in the back room, John made a rather loud cat noise from the lobby, “Meow.” He could hear her laugh from the back room. “I know that’s you, Mr. Workman, what are you doing?”

John felt nervous. “The girl is nowhere near as gullible as her grand-aunt. Perfect. Now, sneaking into Renning’s house is gonna be much riskier.” He thought to himself.

“Here you go Mr. Workman.” Said Martha as she handed a cup of coffee to John. “Thanks.” Said John.

“So...Martha, are you gonna sit around here doing nothing for the rest of the day? I-I don’t mean to be rude of course...but...” He asked.

Martha sighed and looked around the lobby. “I guess so...” John stayed quiet and took a sip from his coffee. “Are you planning to check out soon, perhaps, Mr. Workman, not to be rude too of course, but...” Asked Martha suddenly.

“No. I’m not planning to. I’ll probably check out tomorrow. Why?” Replied John as he eyed Martha suspiciously.

“Well, then I probably won’t be able to hide it from you then. I was sorta...planning to have some of my friends over here tonight. We’re gonna hang out at one of the rooms while one of us, you know, me and my friends, will take turns managing the receptionist table. You won’t mind, would you, and you wouldn’t tell on my grand-aunt, would you?”

John smiled. He shrugged and looked outside as Martha dashed towards him. “Oh, please Mr. Workman, don’t make me cancel that plan, I’ll die of boredom!” She pleaded.

John suddenly had an idea. “Well, as long as you won’t tell on me, I suppose.” He said as he got to his feet. Martha, who was kneeling before him in plea, stood up as well.

“What do you mean? Have you done something wrong? Is that why you’re in disguise?” She asked sharply. John, who was walking towards the door, suddenly stopped dead on his track and turned around to face Martha.

She smiled devilishly. “I know that’s a fake beard Mr. Workman, and I know that most people wouldn’t wear dark overalls, and with a coat and a hat mind you, in the morning like this. You’re up to something.” She taunted.

 

“Well, this is the same outfit I wore last night, I haven’t had time to change since I was so tired.” He explained.

“Oh. Then why were you so alarmed when I called you out about you being in disguise, and how do you explain your clearly fake beard? Hm?” Martha was cornering John, he grew more and more nervous, before finally giving in. “You’re a cunning and smart girl. Intimidating too. Are you really Norma’s relative?” He asked.

“Haha, I know right? Sometimes even I question it myself.” She replied. “Well, fine, you got me. I’m undercover, but I’m not saying why though. The only other secret I want you to keep aside from that is the fact that...” John didn’t finish his sentence, he turned around again and walked towards the door, with Martha behind him.

 

“I sorta borrowed the tarp from this other car to cover my own, part of my undercover mission, sort of.” Said John as uncovered his car and put the tarp back on the proper car. “All I ask is that you don’t tell on me, and I won’t tell on your plans tonight. Do we have a deal?” He asked. Martha smiled and said “That’s all? Sure thing.” Before slipping back into the inn.

Before getting into his car, John remembered something. He glanced at Renning’s house and stared at it for a moment before going back into the inn.

“Martha, is anyone in that house?” He asked. “Yes, I think so, the housekeeper perhaps, why?.” Replied Martha. John took another quick glance at the house before asking again, “How do you know it’s the housekeeper?”

“Well, she certainly looked like a housekeeper, besides, I said perhaps didn’t I?” She explained.

“So, you saw it yourself, someone going in to that house?” Asked John as he grabbed the ledge of the receptionist table. “Yes. You’re acting really suspicious you know Mr. Workman.”

“I’m sorry Martha, it’s just that yesterday, your grand-aunt Norma thought she was hearing voices from that house and she even said the light on that window facing the road suddenly turned on, even though the owner left the same day. It’s just that I’ve been worried about it myself...” Explained John as he leaned forward and stared at the house through the window of the inn. “It probably really was nothing.” He added.

“Oh yeah...Norma does tend to see things when she’s tired, you really shouldn’t worry about it, Mr. Workman.” Explained Martha as she opened up a magazine.

 

 

“Yeah, you’re probably right. Well anyways, Martha...I’ll be out for the day, but I’m not checking out. I’ll be back later tonight, OK? I’m just going to see a relative of mine who lives around here.” Said John. “Sure thing, Mr. Workman.”

John then got outside and drove his car to his house to check on things. It was still a remarkable mess when he entered it that afternoon.

As soon as he got in, he took off his dreaded fake beard and went to the bathroom. He was wrecked. He had a headache and his eyes felt heavy and his chin and cheeks were itching like crazy from the fake beard.

He opened the medicine cabinet and pulled out some cool shaving cream to put on his irritated face before taking a bath afterwards.

 

He spent the afternoon cleaning up and re-organizing the things in his house. He knew he would need a lot of energy for his invasion mission that night, but sitting alone in a messy house would only bring down his mood, or so he thought. For the mess in his house was a result of his depression and he would definitely not want to be reminded of that.

The bedroom was hardest to clean up, even though it was the neatest room at the start, there were countless objects there that reminded John of Clairissa.

The pictures for instance. In his mind, he wanted to keep them, yet at the same time he wanted to throw them away or even burn them. He wanted to forget about his beloved wife Clairissa, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. Not completely at least, or at least, not yet.

In every picture of her that he picked up, was left at least one drop of tear, but none of the pictures were shattered or dropped.

That night, at about 7pm, John drove back to the inn, but with the intention of sneaking in to Renning’s house first of course.

Like before, he parked his car at the far end of the road and walked in the dark, at the side opposite of the inn.

The inn was loud, there were about 3 cars parked in front of it and a lot of party noises were coming from inside. They didn’t use any of the rooms with the windows that were facing Renning’s house, because those rooms were still dark (including John’s own room).

On the receptionist table was not Martha, but another young girl reading a magazine with a young man sitting next to her.

John tried not to make much noise, but he also tried not to be so quiet that he would attract suspicion.

 

John was wearing a dark coat with the fake beard again and the hat again, but not the dark sunglasses. He figured that if he were to be seen with the coat and beard it would still be normal, but if he were to be seen wearing sunglasses at night it would be definitely suspicious.

The girl at the receptionist table saw him, but she paid him no mind and returned to her magazine.

John picked up the duplicate key from his pocket and he put it in the key hole. “Please work...” He prayed before turning the key and unlocking the door. The key worked.

John had brought a small flashlight with him, which he turned on  the moment he closed the front door behind him.

The hallway was net and tidy and the letter that Renning left for the housekeeper was no longer there.

John decided to begin his investigation in the office room, but on his way upstairs he took a quick glance at the living room to his right and the dining room to his left. All seemed perfectly normal. “Huh, who would keep a secret in a dining room, anyway?” Thought John.

He carefully made his way up the stairs to the second floor of the house. John was trembling. Not because of the fear of being caught, but because he felt like something was with him at that moment. Like something was leading him towards the very thing that will definitely help him solve his case.

He was almost convinced that he was on the right track, yet deep in his mind, he didn’t want to.

He didn’t want to find what he was looking for. Not at Renning’s house at least. He knew from the beginning that investigating Renning’s house would be the first step to solve the true cause behind the death of his wife.

From the beginning he knew Renning was hiding something sinister. Something that would unveil everything to him. John didn’t want to believe that feeling, but he had to either clear his friend’s name or find what he’s looking for. In a way, by the thumping of his ever-beating heart, John wanted both as equally.

As he slowly approached the door of the office room, he suddenly felt something light tap his back. John gasped and turned around immediately, his back pressed against Renning’s office door.

There was darkness there and nothing more, nothing more but the closed, neat door at the end of the hallway, on the opposite side of the office room.

John eyed the closed door quietly for a long time before slowly advancing towards it. He had fallen into a trance-like state. His eyes were locked on the door, and only the door.

Slowly, with his wet slippery hand he turned the doorknob. He shifted his flashlight and peeked into the room once it opened, and he saw her.

There, on his bed, was a ghostly pale figure that beared a striking resemblance to his lost Clairissa. “C-Clairissa...?” Whispered John in a shaky voice as he wiped the sweat off his forehead and his eyes, but of course, she disappeared in just 1 blink of an eye.

John didn’t care, he was still on his trance like state, he was getting more and more convinced that he was on the right track.

His body moved on its own, it led him towards the wardrobe at the far end of the room. His body was moving in slow, small, wooden steps, and his eyes were fixated on the wardrobe.

He didn’t know why, something was leading him, or at least that’s what he was convinced of in his mind. “Just go with it.”

Inside Renning’s wardrobe, in the small left corner, was a red bag. John felt his heart drop as he immediately recognized who that red handbag once belonged to. Clairissa.

He reached in and grabbed it just to make sure though. It was in mint condition, and the zipper on top of the handbag was still closed. John unzipped it to see if everything was still in there, and everything was.

Everything was. From her lip gloss to her notebooks, and in the bottom of the handbag was something that ended up being more than crucial for John to eventually solve his case. A small key.

He immediately realized what that key will fit into, the box of letters that Clairissa kept in her room, where she put all of the mysterious letters she wrote to and received from her “childhood friend”.

John hid the handbag behind his dark coat and continued searching the room with his flashlight.

He scanned the room and noticed something else that caught his attention and put him into another trance.

Next to Renning’s bed was a small table with a drawer. Once again, as if his body was moving on its own again, John approached the table and opened the drawer. He was stunned to see what was in it.

A box. Not just any box though, the box was identical to Clairissa’s box. He recognized it immediately by the pattern and feel of it.

Before he slipped the box into his coat, John had an idea. He took out the key from Clairissa’s bag and tried it on the box. To his surprise, it worked.

 

Inside the box were some letters. At first, John thought it was his wife’s box all along because they were identical, but then he remembered that Clairissa’s box was still back in the bedroom of his house.

He held over the flashlight over the letters, but then decided it would be best if he’d just read it at the inn.

***

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Fortunately, John had no trouble getting out of Renning’s house unsuspected. He simply got out, went to the far end of the street where his car was, then drove it to the front of the inn before coming in.

On the receptionist table was yet another one of Martha’s friends, this time it was a boy. “Ah, yes...Um, do you want to, uh...check in Mr? I’m sorry I’m not used to this.” Said the boy.

“No worries, I already checked in yesterday, my room is number 11.” Said John. The boy still looked confused, he looked around before John cut in, “Just hand me that key with the number 11 there.”

“Oh. I-I’m sorry...as I’ve said before, I’m not used to this.” Said the boy as he reached to grab the number 11 key. “Here you go, Mr.” He said as he handed it to John.

John flashed the boy a friendly smile before going straight up to his room.

Upstairs, the party noises were really loud. In fact it was so loud that John banged on the room door a few times to get Martha to come out.

“Oh, Mr. Workman, you’re back.” Greeted Martha. “Martha...I know we made a deal this morning, I agreed I wouldn’t tell on you, but please...could you keep it down? Just a little bit at least.” Pleaded John.

“Oh, right, I’m sorry Mr. Workman we didn’t know you’re back. I’ll pipe down.” Said Martha as she gave a wink before closing the door.

As intrigued as he was, John decided it was still too loud for him to concentrate on the letters, so he held it off for the next day. He slipped both the handbag and the box into his travelling bag before going to sleep.

 

 

John woke up early the next morning. He quickly packed his things before going downstairs to check out of the inn.

“Good morning Mr. Workman. My, you’re still wearing that beard?” Asked Martha from the receptionist table as John entered the lobby.

“Haha, sorry Martha, you may think this is a disguise, and maybe this is...Nevertheless, I just can’t take it off...Not now.” Said John. “Okay...” Replied Martha.

“Anyway Mr. Workman, you’re checking out?” She asked. “Yep, my business here...I mean around here is done. Next, I’ll...Well never mind.” Answered John.

John signed the guest book using the same fake autograph that he used when he first entered the inn and paid for his stay before walking towards the door.

 

“Well Martha, it was great seeing you...” He bid farewell to Martha one last time as he turned around and nodded. “It was nice meeting you too Mr. Workman.” She replied, smiling. “Never in my life have I met a more mysterious person.”

As soon as John arrived at his house, he immediately went to his bedroom and checked his drawer for his wife’s box. Sure enough, it was there.

Clairissa and Renning both owned two separate, yet identical boxes with identical locks filled with letters. That and the fact that Renning was hiding Clairissa’s handbag from John was proof enough that Renning was the culprit all along. He had something to do with Clairissa’s disappearance. John was convinced of it.

“But what?” Thought John hard. He sat on his bedside and held his head with both his arms. He felt like breaking down again.

Could his best friend have murdered his wife. This was his worst fear from the very beginning of his investigation.

“No!” He convinced himself. “I must ask him myself!” He concluded. “I’ll ask him myself.”

John spent the rest of the day reading the long letters from both boxes that connected. Each letter from Clairissa’s box had a pair that replied to that letter from Renning’s box and vice-versa. He was left speechless for the rest of the day and the next after reading those letters. He was almost thrown into another state of severe depression, but then came the time. The time of Renning’s arrival. The dawn of the 4th day since the his departure.

***

 

 

 

The next day, at dawn, Renning arrived at about 04.30 am. He noticed nothing was wrong with his house at first, so he just went to the front porch and unlocked his door. (He had asked the house keeping lady to leave the key back under the mat the day prior).

He stayed silent as he continued down the dark hallway and up into the second floor. He didn’t feel like turning on the lights since he planned to go straight to bed as soon as he got to his bedroom. But he couldn’t. Since sitting on the chair at the opposite side of the bedroom  was a dark figure with eyes that glowed with the seeming of a demon that shone as soon as he opened the door.

“Good evening Renning.” It said calmly. Renning recognized that voice at once, and his guess was right. It was John. A smile flashed on his face as soon as Renning turned on the lights.

Renning closed the door behind him and smiled weakly as he took off his hat and coat.

“A surprise greeting party? Where are the rest of the guests? Haha..” Asked Renning as he lit a cigar that he just picked from the box on the table next to the entrance door of his bedroom.

“Ah, well...I’m sorry to disappoint, but I’m afraid it’ll just be the two of us. After all I’m sure that’s best because I think you have quite a story to tell me, and me alone. A story that is... rather important. To say the least.” John had stood up and began pacing slowly from side to the other, still on the opposite of where Renning is, with both eyes sharply locked on him.

Renning was also pacing the room, “A story? What is this about?” He asked. “Why are you so...sinister...John, old pal? Is there something wrong because you’re scaring me a bit. Are you still...you know, having trouble getting over your wife? You did take my advice didn’t you? You did go to a psychiatrist...”

“No. No I didn’t. In fact, I did the exact opposite of what you told me to do, and now... look where that has led me.” Answered Renning. His voice turned from casual to sinister in that one sentence. He pulled out Clairissa’s bag and Renning’s box from his coat.

Renning’s eyes grew wide, his cigar nearly fell out of his mouth, and he froze in place.

After a few seconds of silence he took one sudden step backwards and that caught John’s attention, who in sharp move, pulled out a small gun from his coat pocket and pointed it at Renning.

Both of them were sweating. John was slowly losing his temper. “You will not run. Just tell me the whole story. Everything. Believe me... it’s best for both of us if you do, because I could pull this trigger faster than you could reach the door.” He said in a loud yet shaky voice.

 

“You’re mad.” Said Renning before he flashed a cold smile. “You wouldn’t do that, think of the people that will hear the gunshot, and think of the consequences when you get caught!” He added in a loud voice. Sweat was dripping from his face.

“Do I LOOK like the kind of person who would even THINK of the consequences anymore? HA!? DO I!?” Yelled John in a loud voice.

“People could hear you...” Said Renning as he tilted his head to his left shoulder to wipe the sweat off his cheeks without moving his hands.

“Perhaps they heard me, but they didn’t hear you. Your voice from the beginning was pretty quiet and whimpery. They couldn’t hear the conversation. For all they know It could’ve been a television.” Replied John.

Renning was about to open his mouth but John raised his gun and Renning’s mouth quickly shut again.

“Fine. I might as well tell you the truth.” Said Renning, and with that he began his story, “You see, I’ve known Clairissa well since before you two even married. Do you remember, I was with you that day when you discovered her by that lake. I was walking around the lake when I saw you talking to her. I was stunned by her beauty, so once you left, I approached her with the same kinds of techniques you used to approach her.”

John sat back down again and listened to the story seriously with his gaze still fixed on Renning, who was pacing back and forth as he told the story.

“Well, after a bit of talk, needless to say I fell in love with her, but I knew you had fallen in love with you too, and you discovered her first, so...I waited for my chances.”

“I observed your moves and whenever you had to make an excuse to skip your detective duty, I knew you were going to see her. I noticed a pattern at which days of the week you were going to see Clairissa, and in between those days of the week, I wrote her passionate love letters to tell her that I’m still into her and that I wouldn’t give up on her. Fortunately for me, she always replied back.”

Renning took a short break and slowly walked towards his mini-bar. John stayed silent and watched his moves carefully. Renning continued the story as he opened the cabinet of the min-bar.

“My love for her grew stronger and stronger over time, and pretty soon I planned to propose to her, but you beat me to it and she said yes to you. At first I was heartbroken, but still, I wouldn’t give up. One night, I gave her a call. She seemed rather caught off guard to hear from me, but I didn’t care. I asked her whether or not we should continue our relationship.”

“Rather to my surprise, she said yes. I was delighted, and so I built both of us identical boxes with identical locks to keep each other’s letters. The very box that you were holding moments ago.”

John didn’t make a sound, he didn’t react, and his gaze was still fixed on Renning, who was taking out a wine bottle.

“You are listening, are you not?” He asked, “Anyway, Our relationship remained steady after your marriage for 2 years straight, and every once in while when you’re not around when you’re not around we would have dinner together and stuff like that. However...In the last few letters she wrote me she seemed to be a little off to me, she seemed a little worried about something, and she said she needed to talk to me personally, so...I made us dinner reservations, this was nearly two weeks ago, at the time of her...death.”

 

“At dinner she told me that we should stop. We should not continue our relationship anymore, because she felt bad for you. Only after 2 years did she feel this way, only after 2 years did she feel that it was wrong. That enraged me, and our dinner talk into a heated argument. I took her outside and we drove to the lake. I said our argument must be private.”

Renning poured the wine into his glass and took a large gulp. John smiled vaguely as he looked on in silence, but Renning didn’t notice.

“The argument turned ... bad. She threatened to reveal our little secret to you, and I ... of course, I couldn’t let her do that. I felt like strangling her just there and then, but I knew it wouldn’t end well. Instead...I offered her a drink from a flask that I kept in my car. I...” Renning didn’t finish.

John leaned forward on his seat and said, “Go on.” Renning finished his drink before continuing on.

“You see, I had this coming from the start, and so before I even went to the dinner reservation with her, I had prepareda murder weapon. I filled the drink I kept in that flask with poison and I saved it to give to her just in case things go the way it did. I was right to do that.”

With that, John stood up. Renning was searching for something in a drawer right under the mini-bar, but whatever it was he couldn’t find it. “That’s odd.” He muttered slowly. “I could’ve sworn I had kept it in here, the poison.”

John walked slowly towards the door of the bedroom and stopped only a feet away from it.

“That’s it then.” Said Renning. “You could figure out the rest. I forged fake clues on her disappearance and used those to lead the police to all the wrong places. They believed me due to my status as a senior detective.” Concluded Renning.

Renning was about to say an apology when John cut him off, “No need for apologies Renning my friend, you’ve paid your price.” He explained.

Renning was confused, but suddenly he grabbed his stomach and his face turned pale. He nearly slipped and fell but he grabbed on to the table beside him while the other hand was still on his stomach. He looked at John with a horrified expression. He had realized something.

John reached into his pocket and picked out some gloves before putting them on and reaching into his other pocket. From it he grabbed a tube. A tube filled with the very poison that Renning had used to murder Clairissa.

“This is what you were looking for.” Said John as he threw the tube towards Renning. It fell down next to him and the thick liquid from inside spilled out next to his shoes.

On John’s face was a malicious, yet sad smile. “It’s funny, that out of all the drinks in your mini-bar, I only poisoned that one wine, and that also happens to be the one that you pick out. Must be your fate Renning. I didn’t murder you, you picked your own poison. Anyway, at least with that, you can consider your debt to me paid.”

Renning’s face was bulging with fear, he crumpled to the floor. White foam was coming out of his mouth. He was in horror, he tried to shriek but he couldn’t. He was choking.

“That’s how Clairissa must’ve felt. Now you know, now you realize what exactly you’ve done to someone, and how they must’ve felt when you did it. Goodbye Renning, you’ve been a good friend.” Said John as he slowly turned the knob of the door, leaving Renning to die.

“Oh, and one more thing Renning, when the police discover your body, I’m going to say you’ve committed suicide.” Said John.

“Suicide over the guilt that you had confessed to me, the guilt of murdering my wife, Clairissa.” He added.

‘Clairissa...’ Those were the final words heard by Renning before he slumped over on the floor, next to the poison that John had spilled before. He was dead.

John smiled before closing Renning’s bedroom door behind him. Only it wasn’t a malicious smile, it was a smile of relief, for it was at that exact moment, the moment of Renning’s death, did he feel peace inside his soul. As if a refreshing gust of wind whistling out “Thank you John, I am now at peace...” in the voice of his late wife had passed through his heart.

His drive home was silent, and so were the streets for some reason. His eyes were fixed on the road, but his thoughts were someplace else.

On his way, in the distance, a few blocks away from his home, he saw the magnificent Big Ben shining under the brilliant and beautiful moonlight. He had a flashback of the night he had attempted to jump off of it.

“Oh, how I have changed since then. Now I am at peace. Oh, excuse me, we are both at peace, isn’t that right, Clairissa. Thanks to you, who talked me out of killing myself in the first place. Thank you.” He thought.

That night as he entered his own bedroom, he expected something, and that very something that he had expected was there. On his bed was sitting, smiling, the beautiful sillhoutte of whom the angels was shining upon, his late wife, Clairissa...

 

 

fin