Lies. Trickery. DeAth. Just another day in the business.
Locke Detective Services
Trial of the Enigma
“Five years working together, yet you don’t know my name.”
Rarita’s voice echoed through the darkness. He tried to move toward it, but he stumbled and fell to the ground.
“Five years, you were my idol. I WORSHIPPED you. And you could not be bothered to give me a second glance.”
Desperately, Locke searched for something, anything. But there was nothing.
“The great Arcane Locke, best detective of the 19th Century! Locke, savior of London! Locke, sleuth of the year! Oh, who? Rarita? His assistant? No one cares! Right?”
Locke refused to reply. He had to find Mera. There had to be something, some clue, some piece of information that could get them out of this. But there simply wasn’t.
“Well, things have changed, Locke. I refuse to stand by and let this happen any longer. I refuse to be your PUNCHING BAG!”
Putting his hands in front of hem, the detective began to walk. It was quite difficult without light. He had no idea where he was or where he was going. At this point, he was very much sure that his only hope was to wander around blindly until he found Mera and Professor Insons. It was a dire situation indeed.
“The tables have certainly turned, haven’t they? Just imagine the headlines: INFAMOUS KILLER DOES ENGLAND A FAVOR BY KILLING DETECTIVE! What do you think, sir?
Locke continued to roam in the dark. He would not give the betraying coward the satisfaction of a reply.
“What? What is it, sir? Do you need me, sir? Yes, SIR?!“ Rarita’s voice grew louder and angrier. Locke attempted to tune her out, but failed. “Mera!” He shouted. “Professor Insons!”
Rarita laughed. “Please, Arcane. Just give up. They don’t want to be saved by you.”
Locke ignored her and continued shouting. “Mera! Mera, are you there? MERA!”
From the shadows, there was a sigh. “You never stop, do you? I really should have seen this coming. How foolish of me. Oh well. I guess we can try something else.” Locke heard the flick of a match against a matchbox and suddenly there was a pinprick of light. He ran towards it.
“You have always been soooooo proud of your sleuthing skills. Let us put them to the test, shall we? You can ask anything, say anything, and we will answer. You can use anything around you. You have two minutes. Consequence of failure is death. But do not worry! Your task is easy. Just answer one simple question: who is the real Mera?”
In an instant, Locke’s surroundings were flooded with brightness. A candle had been lit, and before him stood two identical Meras.
“Which one of you is real?”
“I am the real Mera,” they both said in perfect unison.
Locke studied the two Meras carefully. They were exactly the same, from the blue dress to the dark hair, dark as the deepest night and a bit more, put into a haphazard bun.
“Who is your father?”
Once again in perfect unison, they replied, “Professor Marcus Insons.”
This was not working. He had to come up with something else quickly. But what? He was quite stuck.
“Where are we?”
Two identical voices in perfect harmony. “An abandoned warehouse.”
Locke scanned the room. Warehouse.....There had to be something in a box that could assist him.
“Choose me,” both Meras cried out desperately. “I am the real Mera. She is lying to you!”
Locke surveyed the room. To get his level of sleuthing, he had to train for years. Many months of meticulously practicing, sharpening his vision and hearing and deduction skills, and now, they were being put to the ultimate test. He had to find something. Quickly.
Suddenly, something caught his eye. A box, which was quite large, sat forlornly in the corner. It was very much out of proportion to the much smaller surrounding boxes.
Locke examined its label. It was perfect.
He pried open the box, revealing a beautiful piano. It looked as if it had never been touched, let alone used.
“Play Für Elise.”
The Mera on the left turned sour for a fleeting moment, but regained her composure and tried to look confident. Nothing could escape Locke’s trained eyes. The Mera on the right, however, brightened, approached the piano, and began.
She played the piece perfectly.
The next Mera tried to play, but hit a wrong note ten seconds in. She tried to recover, but it was futile. She constantly messed up chords, and her fingers would slip off the keys. “Fine,” she spat and took of her wig, revealing Rarita’s wild blonde hair. “You solved the mystery. Hi-ho, the great Arcane Locke saves the day once again! You just always have to be right, do you? Well, here you go! You are right! Are you happy now?”
“Where is the professor?” Locke ignored her question.
“You..... You are very lucky I keep my word, “ she hissed, and led them through the warehouse to a middle-aged man tied up in a chair. “Father!” Mera cried and rushed to embrace him. The case was solved; father and daughter were once again reunited.
And for the first time in a very, very long time, Arcane Locke felt something.
Mera Insons stood frozen with her fist in the air, unsure if she should knock.
It was raining, and it was exactly 12 years since Arcane Locke had found her father. Now she was here for a different reason- but one just as important. Mera pressed her ear to the door. He was playing Für Elise.
“Come in,” a voice called from inside. She entered the office and started to explain. “I do don’t have a case for you, per say,” she started, “but an invitation. You see, I still am ever so thankful to you for saving my father, and I am.....I am getting married soon. I thought, maybe you would, um, perhaps like to.... come?”
Her voice was unsteady, hesitant. What if he said no? Or did not remember her? This was a mistake. Bad thoughts crowded her head. But Locke simply looked at her quizzically. He smiled.
“I see,” he said.
And with that, he got up and left.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ FIN~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hi, guys! Thanks for reading Locke Detective Services! I had a lot of fun writing this. Were your suspicions correct? Tell me in the comments!
Anyways, here’s the mini-dictionary as promised:
balaclava: It’s basically a head scarf, or a ski mask.
hearsay: Gossip.
blathering: Again, basically to gossip.
slander: Hamburger. (Just kidding, gossip.)
So thank you so much for reading! Tell me if I missed any weird words down below. See you later, fellow sleuths!
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