Third Hour of Investigation

Aran Dervin

by Aran Dervin

Story

A small wave of happiness surged through him. It had been an unnerving day so far, but he was finally getting somewhere.

He of course knew that the hard part was yet to come. Having access to the house was one thing. Finding out in which flat he lived was an entirely different beast.

Groaning he leaned against the door carefully, as not to dirty his suit. Then he looked at the name plates of the doorbells.

Apparently there were eight parties living in this house. Could be better, could be worse, he thought.

Miller, Heston, Ulrich, Nguyen, Mayfield, Brice.

The last two plates were the most interesting.

“Dentist Meinhard” and “Detective Agency Burke”

Oh god. He really hoped he wasn’t a dentist. Of course, he didn’t know much about himself, but the thought of dentists made him feel queasy instantly.

Instinctively he touched his tongue to his teeth. Most of them were still there. That was reassuring. No wisdom teeth, but that was to be expected at his age.

He shook his head. “Dentist Meinhard” was struck from his mental list. To be fair, if he indeed was a dentist, it was understandable that he would want to forget everything about himself.

The detective agency intrigued him though. His suit would definitely match the profession. And the way he had made his way to this house had needed quite a bit of deduction.

Whoever he was, he seemed to be pretty smart.

He loathed the thought directly after he’d had it. It was truthful yes, but being someone who thought of himself as “pretty smart” seemed unnecessarily boastful to him.

His sights were set on the agency, and he entered the house with the fourth key.

If the doorbells had been any indication, the flat had to be at the very top of the building.

Slowly he mounted the steps. To his dismay he realized that he apparently had quite a few back problems.

He reached the top floor and stood in front of the door that read “Detective Agency Burke”.

With his long bony finger he pressed the doorbell. No one opened.

Then he got out his keyring. Because he only had four keys left to worry about, he found the right one quicker this time. It was the fifth key.

“John” stumbled into the flat and sat down in an armchair next to the door. What a day.

© Aran Dervin 2023-08-09

Genres
Novels & Stories, Suspense & Horror
Moods
Dunkel, Mysteriös, Dark