Mayhem at Dusk (Part 3)

Hi, ya everything is Jake. (You should know I have been looking up 30's slang.)  Today we are on to the third part of the story, with Lane's POV.
Like the other stories I took the blog battle word this month: Dusk.

If you missed out on the other two parts of the short stories. Or forgot or want a refresh.

Part 1 Flowers Have Mysteries
Part 2 Loss and Madness

Mayhem at Dusk

Lane

By Rakyle Hier "Word count 1065"

Dusk was approaching like a cat ready to pounce. It spread over the buildings in a yellow glow. They sky blossomed with red spreading like wine spilt from a glass.

I have no good idea how long Detective Heinz and I sat at that tea shop. Him thinking and me… well… trying to help? I was his assistant.
Carmouthe said I would be a good assistant to Heinz. I wasn’t so sure.

I thought maybe if I become an assistant to a detective I would get in on some action.

At the moment all I was doing is drinking too much tea. Real smart Lane.

I voiced my only thought to Heinz, “Why don’t you take this threat to the police?”

Heinz looked up from the ground. He looked at he at me as if saying, why would I want to do that? I was beginning to get the idea he wasn’t fond of the coppers. His moustache drooped. “For the last time Lane, I am not going to entangle the police in this. What did you say… ‘It’s not even a case yet.”

Misery, me!

“When did they ever do anything right?” He continued, throwing his hands up.

I tried to think of something to prove him wrong, but all I did was sputter, “um...they… um.”

Heinz tipped his hat at me in agreement. He rose from his seat, “I am not getting anything done sitting here. I’m off.” I rose after him.
“You can’t go alone. What if Wilson jumps you?”

“I’m not too worried, Lane, I have dealt with this kind of thing before.”

“Heinz, be reasonable!” my voice got louder. The detective rubbed his chin. “Lane if you're so worried come with me. I am only off to my apartment.”
I wasn’t going to let him out of my sight. I was his assistant, why not assist him. I hurried after him as he started walking away.

“You’re really coming?” He looked at me.

“Yes.”

He sighed. “Alright.”

We arrived at his apartment. I was beginning to see a pattern in a lot of things Heinz did, he never did anything in a pattern, which made things more annoying. His room was on the second floor, number 33.

Oh… how strange, now I understood. But I would never understand, Heinz. He unlocked the door and invited me inside. “There is something I want you to see,” he said with a twinkle in his eye. I stepped in the room to see the same unorganized mess he had in his office. His brown couch was covered with white paper, stacked in squares. The coffee table had cups and plates scattered on top. The walls had odd paintings hung up every few spaces.
It was like a puzzle of its own. I turned to see Heinz over by a table that was covered in glass containers and lots of books.

“Come here, Lane.” The detective motioned me over. On my way over to him, I tripped over a pair of boots. Not like 1930’s boots at all, more like 20 years older. Heinz showed me a glass, a tear shaped container that had purple colored liquid inside. The dusk’s soft light shone on the jar, making it look eerie. I noticed Heinz hadn’t turned on the light.

“This is something that I have been working on for some time,” Heinz explained, when I didn’t say anything. I stared at the jar.  “Oh, I see.”
But I didn’t see. “It’s a mixture that will eat through wood,” he went on. My jaw dropped open. I slowly shut it and asked, “Then why doesn't it eat through the glass?”  

“It’s a different type of substance,” Heinz said casually.

Oh, of course it is.

He set the jar down and started rifling through his books on the table.

“Um, Heinz, don’t you think you should turn on the lights?”

Heinz twitched his nose. “Oh, right... the lights don’t work, I fried the circuit yesterday. You could grab that lamp over there.” He pointed to the fireplace between the two windows that looked down to the cobblestone street.
I walked over and grabbed the oil lamp. “Matches?”  

“In the bedroom on the nightstand,” Heinz said, not looking up from the books. Why not just keep them next to the lamp? I hurried into the room that the detective had pointed out and found the box of matches.
I struck a match on the bottom of my shoe and lit the lamp. It filled the room with sticky yellow light.

I went back into the main room to find Heinz gone. I looked around his apartment and I saw a shut door I went over and opened it. Big mistake.
A pile of clothing, boxes, wires, and something hairy flowed out and knocked me down. I was half burred.

“Heinz!” I cursed under my breath. I climbed out of the mess and was relieved to see the lamp did not break and was still lit. I set the the lamp on the table and looked at the mess in disgust. The apartment door open and Heinz walked in. He looked at the mess, “I see you found my closet.”

“Yeah, I seem to have found it. Where did you go?”

Heinz showed me a paper. “I got a message.” He came closer and read it in the lamp’s light. Meet me at dusk tomorrow. -HW”

“Who’s H.W?” I asked. Heinz gave me a strange look and it came to me.
It was from Hank Wilson. “You’re not going to meet him are you?”
He shrugged. “It would be rude to refuse.”

Yes, yes so rude. “Heinz you can’t be serious. You got some proof now, right? You can take this to the police?”

“Ah, Lane, of course not. I’ve just started.”

Oh, swell. I looked out the window to see that the sun was gone and darkness was closing in. From dusk to darkness, from mayhem to danger.
I knew Heinz would get into danger to catch the crook, that was just his reputation. I knew Carmouthe would want an update on what was going on, but I think I should keep an eye on Heinz. I wasn’t going to let him meet Hank Wilson alone, nor was I going to let him stay here alone.

Obviously, this lunatic knew where the detective lived.

🔎🔎🔎

I really enjoyed writing this story! It went over a thousand words just a little, but I couldn't help it I was having fun with descriptions. Also above when I said Jake, in thirties slang that means perfect.
If you want to see the other blog battle stories for this month go here.

Did you like Lane's POV?
Which story is your favorite so far?
What do you think will happen next?
Tell me below....