Bright orange reflected off the glass panes and lit up the dirt road in front of the pharmacy, causing it to glow as if it were red hot. Fading away in the distance, the sun slowly sunk, stretching their shadows and robbing them of the pleasant warmth. They were now huddled together in the dim corner, still unsure if the person they were looking for would come.
There are only ten more minutes until the store closes for the next two days… Did he really have an extra pair on him or was I wrong? All the circumstantial evidence points to him— it can't be wrong…
A loud crack shook the three of them from their inner thoughts. Grasping a nearby bench to support himself, a man emerged from the shadows, which were slowly creeping around the town. The man, whose long black hair was matted but quite clean, hobbled up to the pharmacy, completely oblivious to the three hidden men, stalking him silently.
He stooped slightly, his back bent like a chimpanzee, keeping his eyes glued to the ground as his two dark nervous eyes scanned the pathway for further obstacles in vain. As soon as Sigerson spotted him, hope rekindled instantaneously, shooting through his body like a stimulant. There was no mistake now.
Dressed in the most absurd way he had ever seen, Sigerson observed the man's unusual attire rapidly, from the oversized coat, to the mismatched pair of shoes on his feet. Percy and the inspector, who had both noticed the shoes as well, faced the detective, their unspoken words telling him that they were both ready to jump at him. When the inspector shifted from his position in an attempt to rush out, Sigerson gently placed a hand on his shoulder and held him down, preventing him from moving forwards.
"Not now," hissed Sigerson, his attention focused on Mr Brook Erwin. "If we move out now, there's a small possibility that he might have taken a weapon from the farm. There are still quite a few customers inside the shop that would be in danger if he were to get desperate. Follow my advice and take some of your men and wait at the inn. Go to his room— that's number thirty if you didn't know— and arrest him there."
The inspector's face expressed such disappointment that a passing observer might have thought Sigerson had just denied him a very special treat. With a resentful glance at the detective, he limped away to obey the orders at once. When the inspector had left and the culprit entered the pharmacy, Percy asked in a confused voice, "Why do you expect him to stay at the inn?"
"I made inquiries earlier; the innkeeper told me that Mr Erwin, the culprit, was staying there for the past few days. Usually, replacing the lenses of a pair of glasses takes more than a day, so Mr Erwin will need somewhere to stay for the time being. Where else but the inn would he stay for at least another night? He has no relations to anyone here in the town, and if he attempts to try and lodge with one the residents here, suspicions will be raised after the murders.
Here he comes. You continue to follow him; let me check something first."
Sigerson waited until the man hobbled out of sight with Percy on his tail, who was pretending to be on a leisurely evening stroll, then he hurried to the pharmacy, eager to make his prediction into a certainty. The owner of the shop stared at him, his bushy eyebrows raised and his white beard bristling with annoyance, then remembering Sigerson's face, he immediately started a light conversation with him, his initial annoyance melting as he talked with his newly made acquaintance.
"You were right, sir. I sold twice as much than I usually would in a week and with new stock arriving tomorrow—"
"I hate to interrupt you," said the detective urgently, "but can I see the list of customers who had paid for a lens replacement?"
"Of course, sir. There aren't many who came for a replacement today, though," the owner replied gruffly, handing over to the detective a sheet of paper.
Erwin… There he is. It'll take three more days for the lens to arrive, so that means he's probably headed to the inn now, as I thought…
Dropping the sheet back onto the counter, Sigerson thanked the owner and ran out, taking a route that would lead him to all the potential stops Brook Erwin might make before heading back to the inn. However, when he saw that none of the other establishments contained his target, nor was there a sign of Percy anywhere near them, he marched straight on to his final location without hesitation.
Up ahead in front of him, a beacon shining in the dim evening that was being engulfed in darkness was his final destination and perhaps, even contained a key connected to the man pulling the strings from afar, Elysius Blight.
As the detective reached the entrance of the inn, a commotion from within the walls of the building had caused a large crowd to gather, stopping Sigerson from entering. Pushing past the inquisitive spectators and accidentally trodding on at least a dozen feet, he made it into the inn and continued to shove his way to the thirtieth room.
A horrible sinking feeling clawed at his conscience. All these people around must have meant that something significant had happened while he was away… A death? No… It was inconceivable that one of them had died, after taking so much time to isolate the culprit…
The final flight of stairs materialised before his eyes. A sigh of relief escaped from his mouth. Percy and the inspector were both standing at the entrance to the room, trying to shoo the crowd away as if they were a flock of bothersome pigeons. What was wrong? When Percy noticed Sigerson pushing the people out of his way, he marched up to him, dragged Sigerson into the room, and shut the door into their faces.
"We've found Brook Erwin," he said breathlessly, the moment the door was shut. "The problem is… Well, you can see for yourself."
The man they had seen earlier in front of the pharmacy was slouched on the bed, stone dead. An empty brown bottle laid next to him, opened and the contents used. Sigerson walked over to it and took it using a handkerchief in his hand. There were still specks of white powder inside of the bottle.
"Arsenic," remarked the detective, picking up the bottle and examining the insides of it. "Can you run a test on this later, inspector?"
He passed the bottle over to the inspector, who received it cautiously.
"This was also found in the dead man's pockets," said Percy, pulling out a clean envelope and handing it to the detective. "We've seen the contents, but it seems to be some random words scribbled by some lunatic."
Sigerson opened the envelope and pulled out a piece of paper. On it, and unusual string of words were scribbled neatly across:
Get, First, Year, TWICE, Cut, UP, Yellow, Pear, Let, Cart, Best, Wet, MOVE, See
Flipping the paper, Sigerson found another message scrawled behind it.
FOUND YOU
Sweat dripped down his forehead and his hand trembled slightly as he read this. The message was written by an unknown hand.
These letters… They must be the real message directed to me… Or maybe he wants to bring my attention away from something? I'll see if this has any meaning behind it before coming up with a theory… Let's see… The first letter of every word is bolded; they are one of the two key parts to solving this code. Next, the second part are these three words in capital letters: twice, up, and move. If read this way, it leads to nothing, but read backwards… Move up twice… An instruction for what? Read every two words above the capitalised words? No… That also leads to nothing. What else could this possibly mean?
Grumbling to himself and shaking his head occasionally as he tried to decipher the code, Sigerson sat down on a stool in the corner for a few seconds, a disturbed expression set on his face. However, a sudden change came over him in an instant; he thanked the inspector for his help, leaving the rest to him, bade him goodnight, and left the inn, bringing Percy with him.
"I knew it," muttered the detective under his breath as they walked past the rows of dull stone buildings. "He is involved with this murder, but as usual, I still lack evidence against him…"