SHORT STORY ONE
CHARLES WIKLOW : THE MYSTERIOUS DIARY
CHAPTER ONE:
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"We are sorry for your loss Mr. John"
"Thank you Mr. Wicklow! It would have been impossible to find Marie's murderer, if you hadn't helped us out," Mr. John said, with a grateful smile spread across his tear stained cheeks.
Charles waved it off saying, "It's my job, Sir. There's no need to thank me. Now, if you please excuse me, I need to be somewhere."
John nodded hurriedly escorting Charles towards the exit door, while urging Mark, Charles' clerk, to receive the payment.
Walking out of the mansion, Charles stomped over to his car with a proud smile on his face which appeared after all his solved cases. Mark struggled to keep pace with his overly happy employer.
As soon as both had boarded the luxurious car, they sped towards the next stop.
"Tell me when you see a toy shop, Mark."
"May I ask, why, Sir?"
"I'll buy a soft toy for you. Which one would you like?" Charles replied, with a teasing smile.
Mark was confused at his boss's strange behaviour. Charles had sensed his confusion. A chuckle escaped his lips, as he went on to explain himself to Mark.
He said, "It's Anna's birthday, Mark."
"Oh, Miss Wicklow?"
"Yes, it's her seventh birthday," Charles said, with a sigh, as he realized how soon the days had passed away. It seemed to be only yesterday that she was a little baby, smiling a bright, toothless smile at him.
Soon, the two gentlemen accompanied with a huge teddy bear, were at Wicklow's apartment, ringing the doorbell.
Once, twice, even thrice..but there was no answer.
Slowly, the smile on Charles' face changed into a frown. Restlessly, he banged the wooden door. Still there was no answer. His heart thumped as all the different probabilities crossed his mind. Surely, staying in the profession he was had tampered his way of thinking. Negative thoughts poured in, and soon he started sweating.
Mark couldn't understand what to do to help and ended up standing and staring at Charles' pacing figure.
Suddenly, Charles stopped. He looked up at Mark, as if something had struck to him.
"Help me break the door!", commanded he.
The two men immediately set off to work on their plan. Both, hurling at the closed door, with as much strength they had. A few thuds later, the latch locking the door gave way, and the door yanked open into the dark interior of the apartment.
"Katy!? Are you in there?! Anna?! Anyone?!" Charles called out with a helpless tone, looking everywhere around the house. Mark, tried to help by looking into all the places Charles had looked, again.
Mark was scrutinizing the living room, when heard a gasp of breath from the kitchen. And then all the noises ceased. Hurrying over to the kitchen, Mark saw Charles sitting on the kitchen floor, devastated. Low moans of despair left his mouth, as he sobbed.
In front of him, was Katy, with an expression of terror stuck on her face and her cheeks stained with dried tears, dead. A knife jutting out of a mingled wound through her stomach. A pool of blood around her, soaking her clothes.
Charles howling as if something was being ripped out of his body, and it really was so. Katy was his biggest strength and no doubt the biggest weakness. He loved her endlessly.
Mark felt nauseated. He was not accustomed to see such a scene. After all, it had only been around three months that he joined Charles. Like a brick, Mark realized that something was missing. Or rather, someone.
Without disturbing the grieving man, Mark started looking around the house for the little birthday girl.
After his thorough search, with no positive results, Mark concluded that Anna was not in the apartment. Bewildered and terrified, he went up to Charles.
Giving a gentle squeeze on Charles' shoulder he tried to provide comfort. He was unsure of how to convey another negative news, to the already torn man.
"Where's Anna?" Charles asked, in a broken voice. Mark stayed quiet, not answering the unwelcome question.
Charles looked up at Mark with a frown. He asked again, "Where is Anna, Mark?!" This time with a loud and clear voice.
"Was she dead too?"
Charles wondered and a streak of pain shot through his heart at this shuddering thought.
Mark merely shook his head, and murmurred something indecipherable.
"What is it?!" Charles demanded an answer, with irritation and impatience colouring his tone.
"She is not in the apartment, Sir," Mark replied, whispering.
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CHAPTER TWO:
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"Not in the apartment?! What do you mean not in the apartment, Mark?!" Charles cried, resisting the truth that was very obvious.
Anna wasn't home, indicating that she must have been abducted by Katy's murderer. Or worse, killed, just like her mother.
Charles was not ready to believe the latter. He settled down with a more acceptable theory, that she must be alive. At least, he hoped so.
Realizing, how close he was to losing his daughter too, he started looking for clues around the apartment.
Mark was relieved he didn't have to answer Charles' question, but the tension had just started. He knew he would have to be by his boss's side at his worst time. And, knowing Charles' skills, he was positive that they would be able to find the criminals.
But one question remained unanswered - 'why?'
Mark couldn't get around to the fact that who would want to hurt this kind man. Charles was a great person. His sole purpose of being in this profession was to help people out.
After almost an hour of thorough search through the apartment, they could not find any relevant clue.
Charles decided to proceed with the only clue he had - the knife used to murder Katy.
Charles sat by his wife's lifeless body, and slowly, turned her over, to get the knife out of her. As he did so, he silently commanded Mark to hand him his gloves.
Charles could almost hear his heart breaking into pieces within him, but nothing could be perceived from his face. With his professional side surfacing up, he pulled out the knife, holding the blood-stained handle in his gloved hands.
Mark provided him with a plastic bag, meant for the storage of such clues. Charles then put Katy back to her previous position. As he looked at her, his eyes brimmed up with tears. He threw his head back, trying to stop the stray drops out if his eyes.
Suddenly, something caught his sharp eyes. Something, like a..diary.
Shooting up from his position, he scrambled to find what he saw. And, there under the dining table, was, in fact, a diary.
He was so fast in his movements, that Mark would have missed it, if he wasn't gawking at Charles' every move.
Charles carefully picked up the fragile looking spiral diary. There was a childish writing on the cover, reading, "Whatever you do, do not open it"
A faint smile appeared on Charles' face as he was reminded of his daughter. Anna, too, had a diary like this. She and Katy used to share so many secrets together, whispering in each other's ears while he faked his annoyance.
As he studied the diary, a browning piece if paper fell out of it. He bent down and picked it up, scrutinizing it.
Opening it, he saw, that it had a doodle of some sort. It looked more like a symbol. It consisted of a spider shaped structure, mainly. A web was drawn around it. It was a fading piece of art, drawn with a fountain pen.
A pattern was drawn on the body of the spider, which resembled a cross. All of the details were neatly encircled.
"Mark? Come here, please," Charles called out.
Mark scurried up to him, and stood obediently by his side. "What is it, Sir?" He asked peering, into the paper Charles was holding onto, curiously.
"That is what I would have asked you. Do you know anything about this symbol?" Charles asked.
Disappointed at himself, for not having any knowledge about it, he shook his head.
Charles nodded.
"C'mon. We need to go," he said, grabbing his jacket.
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"How could you, Sir? You should have informed us first!" The policeman, exclaimed in annoyance.
"I beg you, Mr Bowman. This matter involves my family. I had to start as early as I could. I don't have a minute to lose. My daughter is at stake, Sir. Please understand." Charles cried. Mark had never seen him act this way. He never loosed his composure. It was strange for both, Mark and the policemen in the station to see him acting this way.
Mr Bowman inhaled deeply, calming himself.
He said, "Fine. Do whatever you need to do. If any assistance is required, please do contact us. In the meanwhile, I would have to file this case into my files, as it involves a murder as well as an abduction. Please proceed with your plan, Mr Wicklow."
"Thank you, Sir! Thank you," Charles sighed.
"Mark, please file the case here, I would be in the city library." He informed and made his way towards the car. "Join me there, when you are done."
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"Mom! Dad!," Little Anna shouted at the top of her lungs.
No answer.
She kept shouting until her throat was so sore, no sound could make its way out of her. The room was suffocating her. The four iron walls had no windows. A tiny hole in the top of the chamber, was the only inlet of air.
A tiny bed sat in a corner. The sheets smelled so foul, Anna guessed it must have belonged to the dog her neighbour had.
She cried without making any noise. She knew her father would come to save her. But why hasn't he come yet? Didn't he remember it was her birthday?
Why were these bad guys keeping her in this room. Her chest ached because of all the shouting and crying. She had cried so much for the past few hours, that no more tears came out of her eyes.
A loud click was heard, and the iron door slowly opened. Steely creeks filled the chamber, making Anna squirm.
A huge man stepped into the room. A tight, red t-shirt clung onto him. His thick arms were covered with so many tattoos that his actual skin wasn't even visible. His shoulder length hair was secured in a masculine bun, behind his head. He was wearing a pair of khaki shorts along with running boots that squeaked against the floor.
"Hello, little Anna" he greeted, smiling at her. The innocent girl was intimidated by the man's appearance, yet, she replied with a wave of her tiny hands and said a fragile, "Hi!"
The man squirted to have a better look at her face. "Are you hungry?" He asked, in a thick, rough, but yet, somehow, friendly voice.
Little children have a different way of looking at the world. And just as you would expect of such innocent soul, they found the good in everyone.
It was no different in case of Anna. In reply to the man's question, she nodded, vigorously.
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CHAPTER THREE:
"Silence, please!" The irritated librarian roared at the two men.
Mark shot an apologetic look at the librarian while he listened to what Charles was dictating out of a thick book.
The 24-hour library of the city was the perfect place to look for information on the symbol or doodle.
Charles read, "The spider is an ancient symbol of mystery, power and growth. We take our first lesson from the ancient symbol of the spider by contemplating its web. Just as the spider weaves a web, so too must we weave our own lives. The spider symbol meaning here serves as a reminder that our choices construct our lives."
Keeping quiet for a few moments, contemplating the words, he murmured to himself, "But what does it mean here?!"
"May I have a look at the diary, Sir? Maybe, there's a clue there," Mark suggested.
Charles agreed. He gave Mark the diary, and continued to look for more information himself.
As Mark turned the pages, he found nothing much interesting. He wasn't able to find anything suspicious diary. For all he knew, it might be a diary of an eight years old.
"Did you find anything?" Charles asked, all of a sudden.
"Nothing. There's only some childish scribblings all over the pages. Seems that it belonged to a child." Mark informed.
"Have you found anything else, Sir?" He asked. Charles shook his head, defeated.
The librarian, who was strolling around, stopped abruptly to give a stern look at them. His eyes scanned what they were reading, afraid they might cause harm to his books. Confirmed, that there was no danger to the books, he resumed his stroll.
"Let me have a look at the diary," Charles said. He probed the diary, to find something.. anything that could lead him a way. He had almost given up, when he saw a tiny scribble in the last page of the diary.
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"This diary belongs to:
Harry Richard Jones."
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It was a handwriting of a child, maybe of about six or seven years of age. The diary was of the year 2007. The child must be now around sixteen or seventeen.
Charles knew he had heard this name somewhere. It had certainly rung a bell. And he knew, if only he could remember, he would have something as a clue.
"Harry Richard Jones," Charles repeated to himself.
"Who, Sir?!" Mark asked.
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CHAPTER FOUR:
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"Who, Sir?!" Mark asked, checking if he heard correctly.
"Harry Richard Jones. Do you know any such person?" Charles asked.
Mark took in a deep breath, proud for the first time, that he knew an answer his boss had asked.
"I was going through your early cases, Sir. There was a file, which held the information of one culprit, named Richard Jones. It held the names of his wife and son too. His wife Marriene Jones and son Harry Richard Jones. It said, that, when Richard was punished for the crime, he let out the names of his companions too. This caused a huge chaos, resulting in the murder of his wife and his son."
Charles was stunned. He remembered Richard. A tall and lean man, with soft features. No one could have guessed him to be a brutal murderer.
Then could it be that he was the one behind all of this, taking his revenge on Charles?
Could it be?
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"Anna! Come here," A man called the little girl from a dark corner. Little Anna who was having a lollipop, looked up at the huge man who was accompanying her, whom she had come to trust in such small time. The man nodded giving her a smile.
With tiny steps, she went up to the man in the dark corner. As she arrived she could see, a tall man, with shiny hair, smiling at her. The way he smiled caused Anna to shudder. She was scared of the man.
"Come here. Don't be scared.." he said, in a low, smooth voice.
The man lit a lamp which was kept beside him. The light illuminated his scarred face.
"Sit," he said. Anna obediently sat on the chair kept opposite to him.
"Do you draw?" He asked in a friendly manner.
Anna nodded, "Yes."
"Would you like to draw something, until your father comes?" He asked.
On the mention of her father, Anna smiled, and brightly said, "Okay."
The man laughed at her sudden happiness. He was reminded of someone, and suddenly the anger in him rose even more.
He gave Anna a sheet of white paper, a pencil and eraser, and another paper with a doodle. "You have to draw this on that paper, can you?" He asked her. Anna analyzed the doodle, and then nodded.
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CHAPTER FIVE:
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Richard Jones.
The only name Charles could think of, now. He needed to look for information about this man. He knew, that this was the man who was behind all of this. Who else could it be?
He immediately went to take help from the policemen. From there he could gather that although Richard was indeed arrested, but somehow he had managed to escape. This update was not broadcasted as would have caused panic. The policemen were constantly looking for the man, but he was no where to be found.
Recently, some crimes were increasing on the southern part of the city. The police detected that there was a certain group of people conducting the activities.
After hearing all of this, Charles was sure, that he could find his daughter with these men, none other.
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It was around 10 o'clock. The roads were now dark, with ghostly shadows falling onto them. The serene and silent, but terrifying night had fallen in, bringing with it fear in the hearts of people living in that area. Every man determined to keep his family safe against the threats that area posed.
The rumble of the engine cut through the thick, sickening silence.
Seven men, two in civil dress and the rest in uniform, filed out of the car. As stealthily as they could, they went into the dark lane, which had a flickering light bulb lot at the other end.
Charles and Mark, preceded by two policemen, went up to the end of the street, followed by the other three officers.
A shaggy door came into view. On observing closely, Charles saw that the wooden door had an engraving which seemed to be familiar. It was the exact same doodle the paper from the the diary.
They were at the right place to be.
At last, he would find his daughter!
With a fresh supply of determination, Charles marched through the unlocked door.
There, he saw, his little Anna, sitting on a huge chair. In front of her, a vaguely familiar face was smiling slyly at him.
Richard Jones.
In the moment of sudden delight, Charles had forgotten about his surroundings. He raced up to his daughter, only to be halted by a huge man. An evil laughter boomed through the dark dungeon.
"I imagined you to be a little smarter than this Mr Wicklow. Look, what you did now!" Richard said, in his calm voice.
Struggling to rid himself from the huge man's grip, Charles saw that all the policemen were made hostage just like him.
"Anna?!" Charles called his daughter,through the struggle, checking of she were all right. A muffled voice replied his call. He looked around to see, that she was grasped by the man, Richard himself.
Her mouth was clasped with his huge hands. Richard was holding her away from him, over a fixed, upward pointing, sharp sword. So sharp, that it could easily cut through a human body. Anna's frail structure would be like butter for the sword.
Charles eyes were wide with horror. He had to do something as quickly as possible, to save his little child. He had to be very careful about it.
Charles raced his brain to come up with a plan. And he got one.
He calculated the distance between him. He thought of kicking the man keeping him hostage, and running up to Anna and grabbing her away. This was only plan he could have. But this had too much of a risk.
He was about to start up with his plan, when the frail wooden door banged open. All the heads turned to see, Mark standing in the entrance.
Taking this moment, Charles executed his plan..and was successful.
Anna was in his hands, curled into a hug.
It seemed, every policeman had planned the same, because in a matter of seconds the whole set up had changed. Now the pinpoints were pointing at the group of criminals. Richard was under Mark hostage, in the same position where Anna was.
Fifteen minutes later, the group of criminals were arrested and being taken back to the police station.
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The criminals were jailed for life, except for Richard who was hung the next day, preventing him to run away like he did before.
Charles and Anna lived together, whole they missed Katy.
Mark found a new job, as Charles had left his job as a detective, now. He wanted to provide his daughter a life that had no threats because of her father's job.
And, thus, the story of Charles Wicklow and The Mysterious Diary, came to an end.
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