The Case of the Count (1)
The Case of the Count
In early January 1940, New York City was submerged in a nightly calm and a silence that seemed to carry beautiful dreams. Suddenly, this silence was interrupted by an urgent police call. The voice on the phone was tense but brief:
Anonymous Caller: "Hello... Police?!"
Police: "Yes, what happened?"
Anonymous Caller: "I heard a gunshot in Count Arison Dusty's castle on Washington Street. Please hurry."
Then the line suddenly went dead.
Policeman: "Wait... who are you?! Damn... he hung up!"
The other policeman: "Move it, men, we have a mission."
By Wednesday morning, the newspapers were filled with shocking news: The Count was killed in his room in a mysterious way, looking like a suicide. But this wasn't logical; Count Arison was known for his love of life, and his friends and family saw him as a person full of joy.
The news reached Britain, attracting the attention of one of the most prominent detectives, Frederick Dunn. He was planning a quiet vacation in New York, but this summons turned the vacation into an urgent mission. Frederick sighed as he headed to the police station, trying to process that his dream vacation had turned into a new investigation.
The detective entered the police station, looking right and left, searching for the chief of the department or the one who received the anonymous call. He found a man busy taking notes and approached him:
Detective Frederick: "Hello... are you the chief? Or the person who received the anonymous call?"
Policeman: "No, I'm not the chief. And who are you?"
Frederick: "Oh... excuse me. I should have introduced myself first. My name is Frederick Dunn, the British detective."
Policeman: "The promising detective from Britain! And what brought you here, Mr. Frederick?"
Frederick sighed and said: "I was planning to spend a vacation... but, since the Count is of British origin and was spending his vacation in New York, it was my right to intervene. And this is something recognized by the British police, isn't it?"
The policeman laughed gently: "Yes, true... the chief is in the bathroom, suffering from... a sudden health condition."
Frederick smiled, and laughter began to creep between them, before an assistant entered and advised them in a low voice:
Assistant: "Maybe we should ask for help from the private investigator... she will solve the case quickly."
Policeman: "Enough! If the chief heard you, you might be accused of killing the Count!"
Frederick: "And who is this detective?"
The policeman sighed: "Rose Anthony. A bit crazy, young, but she respects no one... and I advise you not to underestimate her."
With great curiosity, Frederick headed to Fifth Street, where Rose's headquarters were. He knocked on the door, and a young woman with messy red hair and dark eyes surrounded by circles opened it.
Rose: "Who are you? If you're not here for something useful, leave now. I don't have time to play with the British."
Frederick (surprised): "How did you know I'm British?"
Rose closed the door, but it was knocked on again forcefully:
Frederick: "Wait! I have a case for you!"
Rose opened the door again, this time with a wide smile, and said:
Rose: "Finally, fate wanted me to suffer a little!"
Frederick entered her office, where the place was untidy, and the black cat on the chair was yawning slowly. Rose handed him a cup of cold coffee, sat on her chair playing with her cat, and said:
Rose: "What's the case?"
Frederick: "Count Arison was killed in the reading room. The bullet pierced his chest... there are no signs of violence. The weapon is near him on the floor, but the room is locked and so are the windows. There are four suspects..."
A moment of silence prevailed before Rose spoke sharply:
Rose: "Let's go to the crime scene, let's see what the threads will reveal."
Frederick: "You mean the Count was murdered?"
Rose: "Clearly. Only the anonymous caller heard the sound... and the murder is obvious."
At the palace, Rose noticed the subtle details: the color of the lips, the position of the rifle, a paper written in the Count's handwriting.
Rose: "The Count did not commit suicide. It seems he was poisoned before he was killed... and this explains the absence of any physical struggle."
Frederick (shocked): "How did you analyze all this?"
Rose (laughing proudly): "You haven't seen anything yet. Let's go reveal the secrets."
The investigations continued, and Rose began interviewing the suspects, matching the dialogues with the evidence, and dismantling the web of lies woven by the cook and the maid, until the perpetrators were arrested, and the detectives discovered their plot to steal the Count's fortune and frame his wife.
Side Part of (The Count's Case)
Detective Frederick's mission in New York ended, and he was heading towards Britain on the train, watching the fast-moving scenery outside the window, feeling relieved after a week of mystery and challenges. But he suddenly stopped breathing, as he did not expect to see the person in front of him: Rose! She was sitting in the same carriage, looking relaxed and confident as if her presence here was a given.
Detective Frederick (surprised): "R... Rose?? How?!"
Rose smiled a mysterious smile, punctuated by a hint of fun:
Rose: "I decided to live in Britain... for personal reasons, heh. I guess you didn't expect me to enjoy it there, did you?"
Frederick sat on the opposite seat, took out his handkerchief and began wiping his glasses carefully, trying to absorb the surprise.
Detective Frederick: "Yes... Britain is full of crimes. And maybe it's more exciting than those we saw in New York."
Rose laughed softly, her eyes sparkling with a passion for adventure:
Rose: "Heh, I'm excited then... Yes, I'm coming, Britain!"
The two exchanged a look full of challenge and curiosity, as the train sped through the countryside, carrying with them the beginning of a new chapter of mysterious adventures.