Catching The Phantom

The lights dim and the audience's conversations curtail as they eagerly wait for the play to begin.

A loud BANG rings through the expansive theater, and the audience gasps, however, the stage remains dark and unlit. The curtains lie motionless, dripping down to the floor like melting velvet ice cream. The show has not yet begun. That being as it is, then how come a shot rang through the theater? 

Because it was not part of the act. 

The day following, the Sunday Weekly was published, listing details about what occurred that day. 

A shot rang through the Winston Chapel Theater on the night of November 22nd of 1969, killing Herman McKinney, a medical worker at the Clayton Hospital on 24th street. According to Kathrine McKinney, Herman’s wife who was sitting beside him when the accident occurred, the bullet hit him in the chest, and she knew right away that there was no hope. When the ambulance arrived, she appeared to be correct. The bullet killed him within minutes, and there was, in fact, no hope for the doctor.

Officer Andy Smith saw a man fleeing the scene, and immediately raced after the figure with his partner, George Bennett. They chased the figure down to the corner of Main and 25th Street. Andy and his partner saw the man for the briefest of moments, but they both described him as follows; dark green eyes the color of jungle vines, wavy chocolate-brown hair, and an oddly shaped scar on his forehead. He was last wearing a dark black coat with muddy brown boots. Report this figure immediately if seen, and report any suspicious behavior to the authorities. Police are currently investigating the case with a professional.

Officer Andy Smith, Officer George Bennett, their commanding officer, and a detective known as Professor Brown all sat in a large chamber. Andy Smith was accustomed to working with detectives, but this one was different. Professor Brown, as the detective was known, gave him an indescribable feeling. He seemed so familiar, yet he couldn’t put his finger on why. Had they met before? He claimed to be following the perpetrator of these violent acts that had been occurring in other locations throughout the state. The killer would attempt to murder someone in a theatre. Attempt. Apparently, this was the first time the murderer had actually succeeded in his violent acts. Professor Brown walked into the office the morning following the incident. He claimed to know about the case, and then proceeded to explain to Andy, George, and their commanding officer all that he knew concerning the “Phantom of the Opera”, as the criminal became known. 

When Professor Brown was finished explaining his case, he adjusted his hat and asked Andy, George, and the chief officer what had occurred that night, and that he wished to see evidence that may lead to the perpetrator. “Officer Smith-”

“Please, call me Andy.” Andy insisted.

“Alright then.” The Professor agreed. “Andy, if I am not mistaken, you were there when this incident happened, correct?”

“Well, yes.” Andy replied. “I was there. George and I chased the criminal down to the corner of 25th and Main until we lost him. He ran into the abandoned pickle factory on the corner. We followed him in, but he just... disappeared.” 

“Hmm...” Professor Brown trailed off. “Do you have any evidence that I may examine?”

“Indeed we do, sir.” The chief officer walked off into another room, and returned with a couple of zip-bloc bags. Inside were pieces of documentation of which the Professor would examine. “We hope these prove useful to your investigation.”

“I’m sure they will,” said the Professor. He opened the bag labeled #1023 77A and peered inside. He pulled out a tiny bullet covered in dry blood. “Is this the bullet that killed Mr. McKinney?”

“Yes,” said George. “Because of the blood, we haven’t been able to match it to any specific person or gun.” He walked forward and looked closely at the bullet. “I personally think the Phantom would have just used a regular pistol.”

Professor Brown nodded. “I would agree with that, Mr. Bennett.” He peered at the bullet, almost squinting his eyes. “Yes indeed. I would also conclude that this bullet was fired by a pistol.”

They all stood there in an eerie silence until the commander said “We should leave you to look over the evidence. We wouldn’t want to disturb you.” Andy, George, and their chief then left the room, leaving Professor Brown alone to work. 

When the door was fully shut, the commander said to George and Andy to do anything the professor told them. They nodded, and the chief walked off. 

Andy still couldn’t find out what it was with Professor Brown. He seemed so strange, so familiar. It was on the tip of his tongue. What was it? “George?” Andy whispered. George looked over, and Andy continued. “Doesn't the professor seem... strange to you? Familiar, maybe?” Andy looked away. “I don’t know. I just have this feeling.”

“Andy, when has your gut ever been right?” George joked. Andy wanted to laugh, but just couldn’t. This was serious, but apparently George didn’t think so. Andy decided that George was probably right. When has his gut ever been right?

His thoughts were interrupted by Professor Brown opening the door. He walked out carrying a handful of files, looking like a busy business man. “So you traced the DNA back to these three suspects, correct?” He dug out three papers from his towering stack and pinned them to the bulletin board on the wall that was behind the desk. Each paper had a picture and a name. The first read SUZANE JACOBS, and had on it a picture of a 30 or so year old lady with frizzy orange hair and bright blue eyes the color of clear ocean water. She had on an elegant black hat with pure white feathers popping out from the right side. On the second paper was the name THOMAS BANKS, and on it was also the picture of a young boy who could be no older than 7, who looked like he still slept in a racecar bed. He had blonde hair that was slightly messy and blue eyes that seemed to bulge oddly out of his head. The final paper had the name LUCY WRIGHT on it, and had the picture of a 20-ish year old woman who wore a fancy black dress. She had brown hair, brown eyes, and had on a graceful necklace with a tiny gem in the center.

“Well,” responded George. “We did come up with those people, but you left out Winfred Noble and Herman McKinney.” He searched the stack of papers for a moment or two before pulling out two sheets of paper that were similar to the others--a name and a photograph. One had the name WINFRED NOBLE and the other HERMAN McKINNEY. However, the latter, unlike the rest, had the word DECEASED in the corner, as Herman McKinney had passed on. The picture of Mr. Noble was of an older man, perhaps in his late 40’s, who had brown hair with grays sprouting up here and there. He had on a suit and tie, and he had hazel-colored eyes the color of caramel. 

“My apologies,” spoke the Professor. “I trust that you have spoken with these suspects?”

“Indeed we have, sir. None of them had any information concerning the case,” said Andy. He then added, “and the little boy was so frightened, so we didn’t ask him many questions. He isn’t a suspect, but he may have some information we need,”

“Would it be possible,” the Professor asked, “for me myself to question these people?” Clearly Professor Brown was wanting for more information to inspect. 

“Well, I suppose so,” George said, uncertainly. 

The Professor nodded. “Okay then, let us go.”

Andy, George, and Professor Brown tracked down all of the suspects, starting with Thomas Banks. “Son, could you tell me what happened that night?” The Professor questioned.

He shifted his feet nervously. “Well, I was with Mommy and Daddy, and we were going to see a show. The lights got darker and Mommy whispered to me that the show was starting, and everyone got quiet. Then I heard a gunshot, and started to cry. Just a bit though. Mommy told me that it was okay and it was just part of the show. I calmed down. There were a few screams and Daddy started to get nervous. I told him it was just part of the show to calm him down, too, but he was still scared. Then we found out that someone had actually died. It’s sad.”

“It is sad,” Andy said, looking down. 

Professor Brown thought for a moment, then asked “can you tell me where you had been before that?”

Thomas thought for a moment, then said, “oh! I went to the bathroom about...10 minutes before the show! I got kind of lost, though, and ended up in a weird room with a bunch of chairs and tables and stuff like that stacked up in stacks.”

“Interesting. Thank you, Thomas.” The Professor puzzled for a moment and left the room. 

The others also said somewhat the same things. Lucy Wright said, “I had gotten lost when I was walking into the theater, and wound up in a storage room full of furniture boxes.”

The same was with Suzane Jacobs. “I had lost my reading glasses right before the play began, and I went to look for them in a storage room sort of place, and when I came back, a man had been murdered.”

Winfred Noble also said some of the same. “I was looking for the restroom and became lost. I, instead, found a large storage room filled with furniture, boxes and other items.”

Andy, George, and the Professor met up in another room to analyze the information.

“You have checked the security footage, correct?”

“Yes, sir,” George responded. “There was nothing there.”

“Well,” said the Professor. “Let us check again!”

They took him to the theatre and asked to see the security footage of the storage room the suspects had described from the night of the 22nd. As Andy had said, there was nothing but static. “See?” Andy began to walk off.

“Wait!” Cried the Professor. “Look at this!” Andy whirled around and saw actual camera footage!

“This is impossible,” he murmured, shocked. “We watched the whole footage and there was nothing...” he trailed off, millions of thoughts flying through his head. How is this possible?

His questions had no answers. His thoughts, no conclusions. 

Professor Brown suggested, “maybe the cameras were malfunctioning, then. Perhaps they just needed time?” It was reasonable, so Andy agreed. 

They saw Thomas venture into the room, his face wet with tears, calling for his parents. Later, they saw Mrs. Jacobs walk into the room, looking for her glasses, but she left empty handed. Later still, they saw Miss Wright peek in the room and walk around in it for a minute, then leave. However, they saw no sign of Winfred Noble. “Well done Professor,” Andy said. “You’ve caught the Phantom of the Opera.” The three then walked out of the Winston Chapel Theater to report their findings. 

They had been able to receive a search warrant and knocked on the door of Winfred Noble. They searched his house and found even more evidence.

Andy strode over to Professor Brown. “You know,” he said. “I had my doubts about you, but you have truly proven yourself. Good job, Professor.” And he meant every word.

“Mr. Noble,” Professor Brown questioned. “Is it true that you were out of town on the 3rd of October just last month?”

“Yes, sir,” Winfred replied. “I was visiting family.”

“Where did you travel to?” The Professor asked.

“I went to Pineville, West Virginia.”

“Interesting,” the Professor went on. “Because that is exactly where another murder was attempted!”

Winfred’s countenance was full of shock. His eyes instantly grew double their size. He was terrified. “No! It wasn’t me!”

“Here!” Shouted another officer. He held up a pistol found under Winfred’s mattress. 

“Just as I suspected,” said Professor Brown, gently picking up the pistol from the officer’s hands.. “Now, Mr. Noble, if you don’t mind revealing your forehead.” Winfred nervously brushed aside some of his short wavy hair to reveal, as suspected, a scar. A scar that both Andy and George had testified to seeing on the criminal's forehead. The newspaper said to look out for a man with green eyes, wavy dark brown hair and a scar on his forehead. Mr. Noble had all of that, and even the black coat, the muddy boots, and a pistol he tried to hide under his mattress. He had committed the crime, and now he would face the consequences.

“No- I didn’t- I wouldn’t!” He pleaded. “Please! I did nothing wrong!” Several officers dragged him away as he tried desperately to argue his innocence, but he was grasping at straws. 

Shortly after Winfred had been taken away, everyone had left the room. Everyone except for George, Andy, and the Professor. “You know, I had my doubts about you, Professor,” George said. “I didn’t want to admit it. Now, though, you have clearly proven yourself-- you caught the Phantom of the Opera! Well done.”

George walked off to meet with the other officers, but Andy stayed behind, saying he would catch up later. “Is something bothering you, Andy?” Professor Brown asked.

“Yes, there is.” Andy looked up and made eye contact with the Professor, who was adjusting his hat. “My mother lives in Pineville, and her birthday is, in fact, in October. I went to visit her on October 1st.” Andy paused. “Mr. Brown, I have reason to believe that you are lying.” Andy took a step forward. “Am I correct, Professor?”

Andy could see evil in his eyes. He made a move to run, but it was too late. Mr. Brown took the pistol that was found under the mattress and fired, leaving Officer Smith lying on the ground. He put the gun on the ever still chest of the dead officer and took off his hat-- revealing an oddly shaped scar on his forehead. He sighed. “Well, that was dramatic.”