Here we are with part 8 and things are getting deep. The word for the month is
Intercept again from
blogbattlers...
It you have not read the other parts here you are:
Part 1 Flowers Have Mysteries
Part 2 Loss and Madness
Part 3 Mayhem at Dusk
Part 4 It Happened on the Night Shift
Part 5 Airtight Solutions
Part 6 Stamped Corona
Part 7
A Stable Connection
Intercepted
By Rakayle Hier
Words 980
Yes, it was funny how a small piece of paper and a few boxes could bring everything to light. Yet, like the light of the sun, there were always a few shadows. And those shadows had a way of moving. Staying out of reach.
Heinz pointed out a few wooden boxes. Some were opened and on their side they had a stamp that read: THE SOUTH CROWN. CORONA ASTURIAS.
“Those boxes.”
“What is so significant about them?”
“They, my friend, were on a very secret delivery. Now they are here. But look closer, what is inside?”
Lane moved closer very intrigued. “Jewels.” He ran his hand in the pile of jewelry. “But they are fake.”
“Are they?”
“Well, yes, I think so.”
Heinz nodded. “Your right but, why are they fake?”
“This is an opera house, they perform.”
“It is, or that is to say, it was.”
“What?”
“Sorry, Lane I’m getting ahead of myself.”
Heinz went over to another box and took the top off. He found more jewels inside, fake looking like the others. The box had a paper on top of it. It was a list of names, one stuck out. Hank Wilson.
Yes, things were coming together, yet there were a few things that didn’t fit in right.
“Heinz,” Lane whispered. Bringing the detective out of his thoughts. “I think Jock and MacClimons are leaving.”
“I suppose we should leave as well.”
Lane didn’t reply, but his agreement was evident on his face.
“Oh, I wouldn’t get in a hurry, you're obviously enjoying yourself. Besides, you haven’t seen the show yet.”
Heinz and Lane turned to the doorway to see the man in the house coat standing there. His eyes were fierce and his stance tense.
Heinz went to reach inside his jacket.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” the man in the house coat remarked.
A thick man in a dark suit stepped out from behind another door. A Tommy Gun in his grasp.
Heinz slowly brought his hand away from his jacket pocket, while Lane raised his hands.
“I assume your Detective Heinz.”
Heinz twitched his mustache. “Yes, and what, may I ask is your reason for intercepting us?”
He chuckled to himself. “You should know by now, or is this one of your games? No don’t answer that. I have something special in store for you, later. I’m sure Hank Wilson will be quite pleased.”
Heinz’s thoughts buzzed. He knew they were in a lot of trouble, but he hoped this gangster would give him enough time to put things together.
Lane stepped back as the gangster with the Tommy Gun stepped forward. “Move.”
They were lead out of the room they were in and into the room the big Tommy Gun bearer had come out of. It was quite hidden away. If one didn’t look close enough, one would miss it.
Heinz went in first followed by Lane. The first thing Heinz saw as he came into the room was a large fishing net that was hanging low off the ceiling. The room was drastically different from the rest of the opera. There was no dust, nothing was out of place, and a complete set of maps lined a wall, while necessary equipment was stacked against another wall.
Though the detective and his assistant had been intercepted, Heinz now knew more than ever before. There was one thing that was still troubling him, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.
There was the jewels, fake yes, but they somehow played a very important role in it all.
Yes, just like flowers everything can contain a mystery or you could say an answer.
The man in the house coat was last to come in the room. He retrieved the pistol from the detective’s front pocket and told the other man to tie them up.
They were made to sit and the gangster tied them in ropes. As the two made their way to leave Heinz spoke, “I never got your name.”
The man in the house coat looked at him as if he was trying to decide if the detective had something up his sleeve. He decided to humor Heinz.
“Clay, Clay Emerson.”
The two left the room, leaving them tied and silent. Heinz tried to place the name, but it wasn’t familiar. After a while he asked Lane, “Have you ever heard of a Clay Emerson?”
Lane thought for a while. “Not that I can think of. Who do you think he is?”
“I don’t know. Someone up to no good.”
“How are we going to get out of here, Heinz?”
Heinz sighed and pulled himself loose from his bonds. “It’s the perfect truth that if one must get caught one must get away, but what if one does not want to get away?”
“What, what, how did you do that?”
“Simple, create tension when someone is tying you up, and you will have a better chance of getting loose.”
“Well let’s get out of here then, untie me.”
“Yes, well I can’t do that, you see I’m bound to find more answers in their clutches, so it is you see impossible.”
Heinz put his hands back into the ropes. All Lane could do was stare dumbly. Why did he ever agree to come along. Lane had a bad taste in his mouth. And it wasn’t from the thought, there was actually some kind of foul taste in his mouth.
“Heinz what is that?” Lane moved his tongue around trying to get it off.
“I taste it too, it’s some kind of wax.”
“Where is it coming from?”
Heinz was quiet for a while. “Wait I know, it’s from the jewels. Lane I know what they are up to! We’re going to have to intercept their plans and soon before someone gets hurt.”
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