"Mr.Williams? The press is waiting outside and by the look of it, you'll have to answer some questions if we want to get to the car."
Peering out of the window of the jewelry store, Ross Williams saw the huge crowd of people gathered outside. There were at least fifteen journalists clustered around the front door of the store, clamoring for 'the detective who is investigating this case' to come out and give them a summary of his investigation.
"Come on, Dan. We'll have to face them," he said wearily, gesturing to the door.
His faithful assistant, Daniel Rivers, pulled open the door and held it for him, sighing exasperatedly.
Ross stepped outside, shielding his eyes from the camera flashes, dimly aware that he was being followed by Dan.
"Mr.Williams! Please tell us how the investigation is going on!"
"Have you found any clues, any suspects?"
"Do you know where the stolen artifact might be hidden, sir?"
"Ahem, all this information is classified and I will enlighten you when the police see fit to do so," Ross calmly replied, "now, please give way to us, I am quite hungry and would like to go home for my evening meal."
The journalists and photographers reluctantly gave way to him, grumbling loudly. Ross got into his Aston Martin and muttered his destination into his driver's ear, wishing he could block out the noise of grumbling journalists. Dan placed a sympathetic arm onto his arm and softly said,
"Have you got any clues, sir?"
Ross nodded, looking a little doubtful, and took out two objects wrapped in cloth from his messenger bag and placed it on the seat between both of them.
"Not much, but yes, a few. I'm actually quite sure that they don't mean anything."
Pointing to the first object, a thin, fraying piece of blue thread, he said,
"This is almost useless. It could show that the thief was wearing blue, but it could also belong to a customer. Besides, hundreds of people in the city wear blue and we have almost no chance of finding the thief with this."
Carefully tilting the red cloth on which the objects were kept, he slipped another minuscule object off it and smiled ruefully.
"Another object I found on the ground. I was poking around in the glass case where the jewel was kept and found a piece of tarnished silver. Looks like it's meant to be a rose," he guessed, wondering whether the rose was supposed to be one of the store's displays.
"Well,sir, I can tell you something for sure. Those objects mean nothing!" Dan said, disappointed.
Ross leaned against his seat and wondered, not for the first time in his career, why he had decided to be a hawkshaw in the first place.
Peering out of the window of the jewelry store, Ross Williams saw the huge crowd of people gathered outside. There were at least fifteen journalists clustered around the front door of the store, clamoring for 'the detective who is investigating this case' to come out and give them a summary of his investigation.
"Come on, Dan. We'll have to face them," he said wearily, gesturing to the door.
His faithful assistant, Daniel Rivers, pulled open the door and held it for him, sighing exasperatedly.
Ross stepped outside, shielding his eyes from the camera flashes, dimly aware that he was being followed by Dan.
"Mr.Williams! Please tell us how the investigation is going on!"
"Have you found any clues, any suspects?"
"Do you know where the stolen artifact might be hidden, sir?"
"Ahem, all this information is classified and I will enlighten you when the police see fit to do so," Ross calmly replied, "now, please give way to us, I am quite hungry and would like to go home for my evening meal."
The journalists and photographers reluctantly gave way to him, grumbling loudly. Ross got into his Aston Martin and muttered his destination into his driver's ear, wishing he could block out the noise of grumbling journalists. Dan placed a sympathetic arm onto his arm and softly said,
"Have you got any clues, sir?"
Ross nodded, looking a little doubtful, and took out two objects wrapped in cloth from his messenger bag and placed it on the seat between both of them.
"Not much, but yes, a few. I'm actually quite sure that they don't mean anything."
Pointing to the first object, a thin, fraying piece of blue thread, he said,
"This is almost useless. It could show that the thief was wearing blue, but it could also belong to a customer. Besides, hundreds of people in the city wear blue and we have almost no chance of finding the thief with this."
Carefully tilting the red cloth on which the objects were kept, he slipped another minuscule object off it and smiled ruefully.
"Another object I found on the ground. I was poking around in the glass case where the jewel was kept and found a piece of tarnished silver. Looks like it's meant to be a rose," he guessed, wondering whether the rose was supposed to be one of the store's displays.
"Well,sir, I can tell you something for sure. Those objects mean nothing!" Dan said, disappointed.
Ross leaned against his seat and wondered, not for the first time in his career, why he had decided to be a hawkshaw in the first place.
Poor Ross. It cannot be easy being a detective especially with so little to go on. Or maybe there's more to the clues than he realises? I'd love for you to expand this to a longer story, if you can and see where that takes your imagination.
ReplyDeleteAlso, one delightful thing I want to share. I didn't know the word 'Hawkshaw' so thank you for teaching me something new. That's the power of a good writer. He/she manages to convey the meaning of a word through context instead of definition. Excellent job there.
Thank you Aunty :)
ReplyDeleteYes I did not know the meaning of the word as well and as soon as I figured it out a story immediately began to unravel itself in my head.
I will try to continue it!