1. The First Case!
A calm morning atmosphere in London. Thick morning fog covered the cobblestone streets, which were filled with puddles of rainwater from the downpour that fell overnight. Last night's rain was very heavy, far heavier than usual. Thunder roared repeatedly with tremendous force.
KRAAAAK!! DUAARRR!!
Even the wind blew fiercely, making the trees sway violently, as if they wanted to break free from the torment. It felt as though nature itself was showing its anger.
After quite some time, around 06:15, the rain began to subside… Nature's anger seemed to have stopped… I said to myself, while gazing at the view of the city of London from the window of my apartment room.
The thick fog made the city look vague, making it difficult for me to see the scenery of London.
Lately, the rain has been falling quite heavily. Always at night. Is nature crying? I don't know… this is just my own view.
I truly don't know whether nature can really cry or not. I stared at the view of London with a blank expression. Thinking about something? No! Just a morning habit.
I always do that.
After spending some time on that unclear habit, I began to look around, paying attention downward, no longer just staring with a boring gaze. People began carrying out their usual activities. Several horse-drawn carriages moved calmly along the cobblestone streets filled with puddles, creating small splashes from the horses' four hooves and the rotating wheels of the carriages.
I also saw several people entering the café, located directly below the apartment where I currently lived.
"Excuse me."
"Please have a seat. What would you like to order?"
Maybe today will be very crowded. Hopefully not… I don't know why I said that. I don't know either.
Then, a ringing sound echoed quite loudly, startling me a little. I searched for the source of the sound, and my gaze fell on the table beside my bed. My phone was ringing, signaling an incoming call.
I then walked toward the table to answer the call.
"Hello?"
As I answered it, the voice of a woman could be heard.
"Hello, you're already awake, that's good. There's someone who wants to meet you."
"Someone?" I asked curiously.
"Yes, she said there's a case she wants you to solve."
"A case? A man or a woman?"
"A woman."
"Alright, I'll come down immediately." I replied before quickly ending the call.
I then hung up the phone. Immediately, I washed my face, changed out of my sleepwear into a white shirt, and took a cream-colored suit jacket that I always placed on the table beside my bed.
"Please wait a moment, he'll be coming down shortly."
"Yes, thank you," replied the woman who was waiting for me.
With calm steps and without rushing, I walked down several steps. However…
"Here you are, this is your order."
"Ah, yes, thank you very much. By the way, will he be much longer?" the woman asked.
"I'm sorry, he should have arrived by now. Please wait a little longer."
After finishing getting ready, I left the room, walking calmly and without haste. However, deep in my heart, it felt as though something was bothering me, as if something had been left behind.
"Hmm… I forgot my notebook. I have to go back and get it."
Without realizing it, I had left behind an item that was very important in solving a case: my notebook. If you ask what it's for? Of course, to record important information.
"I have to climb the stairs again, damn it."
"Why is he taking so long? What is that man thinking?"
"Will he be much longer?" the woman asked again.
In the café, the woman who wanted to meet me was waiting. She had been sitting on a wooden chair for quite some time, enjoying the warmth of a cup of tea placed on a round table.
"Please wait a little longer. He'll be here shortly. By the way, what exactly happened?"
… The woman remained silent. She ignored the question. It felt as though she didn't want to tell anyone. After some time, she finally spoke with fear.
"Actually…"
Before she could say what had happened, the sound of a door at the corner of the room suddenly opened, preventing her from continuing.
"I'm sorry I'm late. I left my notebook behind, so I had to go back to get it."
From behind the opened door, a man with a tired-looking face stood there, breathing heavily.
Yes, that man with the heavy breathing was me. Even though I walked and didn't run, going down the stairs, then back up, and down again made me extremely exhausted.
Then, I walked toward the woman's table, trying to remain composed even though I was still very tired.
"Ma'am, allow me to introduce him. This is Mr. Philip. Phillip Ashcroft."
Phillip Ashcroft—that is my name. A young detective known to be a genius, with precise and accurate deductions. I have solved many complicated cases that even the police were unable to crack.
Even so, for some reason, the people around me call me "Mr. Foolish Detective."
It truly doesn't suit someone as genius as me. Is it because they're jealous of me? Or is it something else? Maybe.
However, over time, I grew accustomed to that title. "Mr. Foolish Detective" may sound strange to me, but it's cool.
Then, the woman stood up from her seat and bowed politely as she introduced herself.
"Oh, pleased to meet you. My name is Amelia Grace Turner. You may call me Amelia," said the woman.
I returned the gesture, bowing politely as well.
"Pleased to meet you too. My name is Phillip Ashcroft. It's a pleasure to meet you."
After that, Mrs. Amelia sat back down on her chair. I also took a chair and sat across from her.
I observed her carefully. What I saw was a young woman, perhaps around 20 years old. Long, wavy blonde hair shimmering under the light, and emerald green eyes that looked beautiful and calming.
— Chapter 1 ends —