The Hidden Clue

Harriet was sitting on the wooden chair and reading the article about the recent progress with the missing necklace, when a knock on the door started her.

"Harriet Dickens?" asked a young woman, entering the office.

Harriet nodded and bade the woman to sit in the chair before her. Her face looked familiar and Harriet strained her memory to recollect where she had seen her.

"I am—”

"Mrs. Linton," completed Harriet before she could introduce herself. "Of course, I remember seeing you last year at your house. What brought you to my office?"

"Please, call me Olivia. I have a small favour to ask of you," she said, hesitatingly. "I want you to make an inquiry about a person."

"Have you informed the police?"

"I cannot go to them," said Olivia, with a pleading look.

"Then I believe you should have gone to Mr. Slutton, isn't he your husband's old friend? He can help you far better than I in this," said Harriet, testing the interest of Mrs. Linton to give the case to her.

"You don't understand," hissed Olivia. "If I wanted to go to your senior, I would have. This is a personal matter and I cannot let my husband know about this."

Seeing her perplexed, Harriet took the notepad and started her questioning:

"Who is the missing person?"

"Theodore Francis."

"What is his age?"

"About my age. Perhaps a year or two younger."

"Where was he last seen?"

Olivia gulped at the question and lingered before answering, "At our house."

"When was he at your house?"

"Two weeks ago. He has not contacted anyone since then. I tried to call but his phone has been switched off since he left," she said, quickly.

"Was there any discord that day with regard to any conversation? Did he leave abruptly? Did he say anything before leaving?" asked Harriet, inquisitively.

"Not quite a discord. My husband saw us and they had a conversation, alone, and then he left without even saying goodbye," said Olivia, shaking her head.

"What was he wearing?"

"A black suit over a pale white shirt and he had a brooch in the shape of a wing."

"Do you have a picture of him," said Harriet, taking short notes on the page.

"Yes," and Olivia drew out a faded picture out of her small leather purse over which hung a similar brooch as described by Olivia. "He sent it with a parcel after the day I saw him last," tears rolled down her cheeks.

"Is that the brooch?" she said pointed towards the object. Olivia acknowledged.

"But it is the other pair," said Olivia.

"Is there anything else that I must know before I proceed, Olivia?" said Harriet, knitting her brows but Mrs. Linton kept her look fixed on the brooch. 

Harriet cleared her throat to show her presence. Olivia glanced up wearily.  It looked as if she had a few sleepless nights worrying about this person.

"Who is this Theodore—” looking towards her notes, Harriet asked, "Theodore Francis?"

Olivia shifted from side to side on her chair and bit her lips anxiously, without uttering a word and avoided eye contact.

"Look Olivia, you must not hide the facts, otherwise it would be hard for me to find any solution for your case," said Harriet, a bit louder.

"I'm not hiding anything," said Olivia, sitting straight, looking directly in Harriet's eyes. "I don't know how to put it actually," her gaze went down at her hands again, anxiously drumming her forefinger on the back of her hand.

"Teddy— I mean Mr. Francis, he is a family friend and came to our house almost on a daily basis, the last few years. He has been my husband's business partner for about seven years now.

"As I was not allowed to participate in the conversation when they had business discussion, I hardly talked to him. But one day—” she stopped there abruptly and changed the topic and continued:

"You know my husband, he likes his drinks. Sometimes when he is too intoxicated he abuses me, uses slang language and it has been continuing for a long time. I feel so lonely. I don't even have friends to talk to. Few people that I do talk to are my husband's friends and their wives.

"Teddy was one of them. He understood me. He is not like the other friends that Mr. Linton has. He is so kind and loving," with those words she went into a reverie. Harriet watched intently towards Olivia and knocked the table with her pen. Olivia started and looked as if she didn't know where she was.

"Did Mr. Linton know about you and—”

”It's not like that,” sneered Olivia. "What we have in between us is pure and not something that you are imagining." 

Harriet nodded. "I understand. Don't worry. I'll try my best to find Mr. Francis."

Olivia got up and went to the door and hurriedly returned back to the table. "How rude of me! What shall be your fees?" Harriet told and she paid some in advance saying she'll pay the rest as soon as Harriet can give any information about him.

As Olivia left the room, Harriet quickly glanced at her notes. That was the first ever case Harriet was about to handle all by herself. She was nervous as this was the well-respected Linton family and there was some scandalous story behind it. 

What if this case ends my career before it begins? thought Harriet. Harriet shook her head to scramble the building cloud of thoughts. I must focus on the case, I've already said I'd help her, no point in overthinking it; que sera, sera. 

As she was checking the notes she realised she had forgotten to ask where Francis lived to begin her search. She saw the picture lying on her desktop; picked it up and saw a sharp looking man standing in front of a door which bore the name— T. S. Francis. She flipped it; saw a few words scribbled behind in a hurry: Home is where you are.

She recognised the place by the street art on the wall beside the man. Today's newspaper had that same art as its background while reporting the museum robbery.

She remembered Slutton was incharge of the museum case and her visit might add suspicion. "There's no point in lingering the matter, I'll simply avoid him," she thought out loud. She took her notes and the gun, put them in her bag and left her office. 

When she reached near the museum, she saw Slutton talking to a couple of police officers and Mr. Linton while a body was being carried out. 

"Yes, it is unfortunate that this is the third guard in a row that has been murdered," said Linton to Slutton. As she walked closer Slutton noticed her.

"Ah! Dickens! What brought you here?" said Slutton, beckoning to join the conversation.

"Well, I was just passing by, thought of seeing the progress with my own eyes," said Harriet, glancing towards Linton. "What a surprise to see you here, Mr. Linton!" 

"Oh, I'm just here to meet my old friend, that's it," said Mr. Linton.

"Chivalrous like always, eh, Linton," said Slutton  elbowing him. Linton waved his hand to brush off the praise. "He has been helping out the police with the case."

"That's very generous of you to spare your precious time for this robbery," said Harriet. "I'll leave you two to brainstorm." She hurried her step towards the door of Francis' house. 

It was not locked; with a push she entered. The sofa and the chairs were displaced and most of the article from the drawers of the nearby cabinet lay on the floor. She went inside the kitchen; dust had accumulated over the countertop. While getting out she stumbled on the dishevelled carpet and hit herself on the door panel.

Harriet went upstairs and entered the bedroom, things were scattered on the floor; on the side table there was a half torn receipt of a package sent. She read the date and address. 

This was sent after the day Mrs. Linton claims to have seen him last, Harriet thought, taking the receipt and pocketing it. As she opened the door she heard footsteps downstairs. A sound of shattering came. She listened intently to decipher the murmurs getting closer to the stairs. 

"Check it again," sneered a gruff voice. "As if we didn't check the last time." 

"Someone was here," said a nasal voice. "Look at this?"

"What? A ring?" said the gruff voice. Harriet checked her hand and the ring was missing from her hand. "I'll check upstairs again. He keeps saying it's in his home."

"We have searched this place three times, there is no necklace here," said the other.

"Who would tell it to the Badger?" said the gruff voice.

Harriet went inside the room, shutting the door silently as a footstep started to approach her. She looked around to find a place to hide; seeing the wardrobe she got inside and stood like a statue.

"There is nothing," said the nasal voice, angrily. "He shall die in my hand." The door banged. 

Harriet slowly opened the door and peeked outside. A chill froze her to her marrow. There stood a stout man staring directly at her. She forced the door open hitting him on the face. He held his face for a second and then swung his hand to hit her. She evaded the blow and hit him hard on his stomach. His cellphone fell out of his pocket.

"What's going up there, Tim?" The noises brought the other man and a thin looking man seeing Harriet took out his gun and shot. The bullet missed Harriet by a hair. She took out her pistol from the bag. But Tim held her hand. 

"Shoot now, Dave," ordered Tim. The thin and pale looking man, aimed for taking another shot. 

Harriet hit Tim with all her force with the end of the pistol. Bang! A shot was fired which pierced through her shoulder and the weapon fell out of her hand. She picked it up with her other arm and shot the man on his leg. As she tried to run away, Tim hit her with a heavy object on head and she fell on the floor. Seeing Tim's phone on the floor, she took it.

A loud gunshot following the voice of Slutton came to her ears, "Well, child, 'always watch your back'," said Slutton, giving his hand. Everything was hazy as the blood rolled to her eyes. "That's the lesson you must not forget. Come, you need to go to hospital, immediately." He tied the two together and guided Harriet downstairs. She felt dizziness and slipped into unconsciousness.

A week later as she rose in the hospital bed, she saw Slutton talking to the nurse. "No no! Lie still, child," said Slutton to her. "You've gotten into some situations in the past but this one I think is your best," with a cheeky smile. 

"You'd've been dead if I'd come any second later," continued Slutton. "If Linton didn't get busy with the phone, I wouldn't've seen those two come back in a hurry and get inside the house you entered. As I heard the gunshot I went running there." They had a conversation for more than an hour wherein Slutton unfolded the museum robbery case.

Harriet listened to him intently. "Thank you, Mr. Slutton," she said as Slutton was taking off. He nodded and left.

After being discharged, two days later, Harriet reached her office and took out the acquired phone; checked the last call list. The name was not written but she noted the number on her phone and called it.

"Yes," a familiar voice answered.

"Is this the public library?" Harriet made a false enquiry. The voice rudely answered "No" and hung up.

Why would...No. I must go to Mrs. Linton, immediately. Harriet thought. 

She took her bag and walked out of her office. Just after she arrived at the gate of the Linton Manor, she saw Mr. Linton name written in block letters. As she reached nearer walking past the garden, a knocking sound came from the garage door. She went closer and the noise increased. The door looked as if it would fall off from its hinges with the force that was being exerted from inside. 

"Who is it?" Harriet demanded, loudly. No reply came but a murmur, which was unrecognisable. She took a big stone and banged it on the lock several times. It broke. She took out the gun and rolled the shutter. 

A bruised and battered man was tied to the chair. The face was covered in blood. Harriet untied the man.

"Francis?" asked Harriet. The man nodded. "Who did this to you?"

"Linton," said Francis.

"But why?"

"I heard him make a deal of a necklace to someone and that he had even murdered the guard, he said to a person."

"Did you see who it was?" Francis shook his head. "How did it get into your possession?" 

"I stole it the day I last came here."

"We should get in. I think Olivia might be in danger," Harriet beckoned Francis.

Just as she got closer to the door, she heard a man shouting. She went closer to listen.

"How dare you? You have no right to talk to me like that," bellowed the man. "I know everything about you two. Don't act as if you have never heard his name before." There was a shrill cry of a woman and Francis looked animated. Harriet demanded to stay quiet. She readied her gun and kicked open the door. 

"Stop or I'll shoot," commanded Harriet.

Linton heaved his wife by the hair and used her as a shield. "You shoot me you kill her," said Linton with a malicious look.

"Aren't you wondering about the necklace, Mr. Linton?" He stared at her with wide eyes. "Yes, of course, you see your people talk a lot." She slowly closed in on him. "The necklace you made them search in Francis' house was always underneath your nose." Linton looked paler and stood like a statute. 

Harriet was close enough and she snatched the gun out of his loosened grip. He tried to take it back but she hit him on the shoulder and fell on his knees. The lovers ran towards each other and embraced as she pointed the gun on Linton's temple.

"The kind of help you were providing to the case is not hard to understand. You have brutally murdered those poor guards since they saw you trespassing into the museum.

"I talked to Slutton. Did you think he'd fooled by your concocted story? He knows that smuggling is involved and I know it's you, Mr. Badger. Oh! don't look so shocked. Your name is "Harry", I just happened to be knowing from your gate on my way in. Quite a code name!" 

"You can't prove that," sneered Linton, with a malicious laugh.

"I might not, but you don't have much proof against their statements," said Harriet, pointing towards Olivia and Francis. She tied him up.

"Olivia, can you bring the parcel Francis gave you with this," Harriet said, taking out the photo and handing it back to her.

Olivia hurried and brought the parcel which was not yet opened. "I couldn't open it. I thought you must have done something foolish, after that brawl," said Olivia, holding Francis' hand.

"I think this belongs to the museum authority," said Harriet, taking the parcel. "You see Linton, he hid this parcel in his home and his home is where you are," said Harriet looking towards Olivia with a smile.