The story originally written for a literary competition, it can be found as an e-read in kindle for young readers. This is one of the initial works of its author, Sugandhi Dilawari.
IT was a rainy day in San York
with the air much chilly than usual when the phone bell shrilly rang in the
small office of Harry and Smith Detective Agency. It was late in the afternoon,
an unusual time for Mr. Harry Bond to exercise with his heavy weights. Mr. Bond
was a tall, handsome man with staunch body and a good physique.
“Why
don’t you pick up that damn phone?” yelled Mr. Smith Jones from the desk that
was situated at the far north of the office room.
“It’s
much nearer to you than me.” replied Mr. Bond, smiling calmly.
Mr.
Jones shook and got up to pick the phone that was screaming at the top of its
volume. Mr. Jones was a tall lean man, much less interested in exercising his
body than his brains.
“Hello!”
“Is
this Harry and Smith Detective Agency?”
“Yes,
it is.” said Mr. Jones, slightly edgy.
After
a while when Mr. Jones held up the phone and looked at the eager gaze of Mr.
Bond and smiled and said, “Come Harry, we have work to do.”
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Smith
and Harry were escorted by a uniform clad person inside the Royal Bentley
Estate where Mr. and Mrs. Bentley were waiting eagerly for the detective duo.
From then, the detectives learnt that their son Andrew Bentley a 14 year old
boy that had gone to a weekend camp with his friends and didn’t return since
then. They tried to call on his mobile which was switched off and they have not
heard from him since then.
“In
the morning”, said Mr. Bentley. “I got a call from my son’s mobile and some
unknown person was speaking. He said that Andrew is with his and he will call
me again. He warned us not to involve the police.”
Later
that evening, Smith and Harry tracked the location of Andrew’s mobile signals
and found out the address near the Old Wicket Bridge. Both of them reached the
place and could find no track of anything unusual on the site in the darkness.
Smith vaguely dialled the number again to find the buzzing of the phone from
somewhere around. Harry followed the ring down below the bridge under a broken
signboard which said “BEWARE” in red colour as if in blood. It had a paper chit
stuck with it. Harry unfolded the chit that was a photograph of Andrew tied on
a chair and looked in pain. At the backside of the photograph was written in a
very untidy handwriting:
“You
involved detectives, next time the dead body of your son would be found right
here.”
Both
of them were surprised at the cleverness of the kidnapper. “He’s definitely one
step ahead of us.” said Smith, thinking deeply.
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Harry
secretly packed his bags to temporarily shift at the Bentleys’ outhouse to keep
a track on the happenings inside their estate. Meanwhile, Smith worked on the
evidences- the mobile, the photograph, the handwriting…. at the lab. All the
phones at the Bentley’s estate were tapped by him. Around 12 o clock in the
midnight, Harry secretly entered Mr. Bentley’s study through the window. With
the torchlight, he searched all over to find any evidences.
He
caught hold of some documents by Mr. Bentley and his assistants. He matched
their handwritings with that of the kidnapper written on the back of the photo
they found that day. The results were positive.
Meanwhile,
Smith tracked another phone call that day. The kidnapper asked Mrs. Bentley to
bring the ransom of 1 million dollars in her personal briefcase only. They
warned not to bring anyone else with her at the old warehouse in the outskirts
of the city.
The
next day, Mrs. Bentley nervously asked her husband, “What if I go alone and
they kidnap me as well?”
“You
should right now be worried about your son than yourself.” Spoke Smith agitated
while Harry gestured him to calm down.
“You
won’t be alone Mrs. Bentley. We would be right behind you.” Harry assured her.
Mrs.
Bentley reached the venue in the evening, obviously followed by the detective
duo secretly. The warehouse was an abandoned place broken and ruined with time.
She nervously entered the shed that was dimly lit with some yellow light bulbs.
“Hello!
Anyone there?” she cried in nervousness but there was no reply. Harry
stealthily walked to the extreme end of the hall while Smith blocked the main
entrance. Their guns were out in case anyone attacked. But there was no
movement from anywhere. Finally, Harry tracked the entire area to find no one
there. Mrs. Bentley started sobbing badly at the failure of the plan.
“I
thought Andrew would be home today. I wonder where they have kept my son and in
what condition.” She cried.
Three
of them came back failed when Mr. Bentley informed them that in their absence
someone broke in their house and entered his study. He was searching something
specific as no valuables were missing.
Harry
and Smith called out all the assistants of the Bentleys and kept their record
along with their fingerprints. Harry requested Mrs. Bentley to lend him her
briefcase. While Smith tracked down the camera footage of the study room. To
his surprise, the camera was blocked for two hours when the incident happened.
“Maybe
we are looking around at the wrong places.” said Smith while Harry nodded.
They
placed all the evidences on their office table and started scrutinizing deeply.
The list of all the fingerprints was one by one tallied with the fingerprints
on the mobile as well as on the photograph. To their surprise, the phone and
the photograph beheld multiple types of fingerprints out of which one matched
with the one of the fingerprints taken from the Bentley’s staff!
Harry
stepped closer to the table where Mrs. Bentley’s briefcase was kept.
“I
wonder why the kidnapper asked the money specifically in this briefcase only.”
He opened the bag and deeply researched the odds. It was an empty briefcase,
engraved in some designer’s name. He checked the inside pockets and even
carefully split away the internal lining. But tattering the bag was of no use.
“Mrs.
Bentley won’t like its condition. You might have to pay her heavily for your
extra services.” taunted Smith chuckling.
Harry
snorted in reply. He continued the labour and carefully eyed the leathery sides
of the bag. He noticed some sticky substance on the lock of the briefcase. He
rubbed his fingers over it. It looked like some gum or a binding substance. He
looked at it deeply with the help of his magnifying glass.
The
lock looked broken and as if reinstalled with the help of a fixing agent that
was not applied long before. With the help of a paper cutter, Harry forced the
lock to re break and tried to scratch the insides of the hollow area. He found
a loose piece in it that when the part was shaken, dropped out from its hiding
place.
“What
is it?” asked Smith leaping in the scene.
“It’s
a computer chip.” observed Harry holding the part in his index finger and
thumb.
“So,
that means the case does not involve the kidnapping exclusively.” said Smith
grimly.
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