Scotland Yard By the Shore

The sound of footsteps awoke me.

I heard them get louder and louder, and angrier and angrier as they proceeded to approach me.

By the time they were standing right in front of me, I knew who it was. The smell of cigarettes was strong, but I had no way of knowing if he was actually smoking or not, cigarettes being his natural scent and all. I closed my eyes and pretended to stay asleep until he inevitably called out for me with that same old angry tone of his.

“Underwood!” He yelled out to me, hitting me on the back before finishing saying my name.

This time, I abruptly opened my eyes. His hit made me fall off the couch, and directly on to the hard wooden floors. “..Ungh.”

“Don’t you grunt at me!”

I looked up at him and noticed he had a cigarette in his mouth this time. I made a fake smoking motion with my hand to tease him, but he seemed quite insecure about the fact he was smoking, so he quickly put his cigarette out.

“Do you have any news on that serial killer? Every?!” He started to raise his tone towards me.

Now, Every is a serial killer that this man, who happens to be my boss, Joe Abbot, has had me investigating for a while. It doesn’t look like it, but this is a private detective agency, and I am a private detective.

We started working on the case about a year ago, but we couldn’t find much leads so we put it on hold. Recently, Every has started killing again, so Abbot over here has been nagging me about trying to find clues nonstop, he sends me outside every single day to go search for clues. The thing about our serial killer is that they always end up leaving their victim in the main fountain in the middle of London at dawn with a single stab wound to the heart. So it always causes quite a commotion.

As it so happens, Abbot isn’t so nice to me, he’s been making me sit outside that fountain starting from dawn til evening for quite a week months now.

I couldn’t keep my eyes open today and decided that perhaps he’d let me skip out on it, which is why he’s presumably about to throttle me.

“No, sir.” I responded quickly. I always want to show respect, no matter who I’m talking to.

“I could have guessed that, ya idiot!” He walked closer towards me, I was still on the floor. “You haven’t even read the paper yet, have you?” He paused.

“No, sir, I have—“

“Aren’t you supposed to be by the fountain?! It’s close to afternoon! What in the world are you doing here?! You..! Underwood!” I suppose it took him a second to realize.

“I.. was a bit tired, sir.” I quickly answered, though, I couldn’t keep my eye contact with him.

“That explains it. That explains it!” He vaguely responded before reaching into his pocket. “Look at the headline, boy! Every finally struck again, and you are sleeping on the couch?! You are the most useless detective I have ever known!”

“..How unlucky.” That’s all I could manage to spit out before I caught the look he gave me. “I’m very sorry, sir.” Is what I quickly followed up.

“Peh.” He turned his head away from me. “I should fire you.”

I’m indifferent to that comment. He suggests it all the time, but I’m most certain that he won’t actually go through with it.

“Then, I suppose…” I checked my watch

“Well, shouldn’t we go to the scene?”

“Not this time.” He still had his head turned away from me.

“Not this time?”

“I snuck over to the scene a little while ago, but there was not a guy from Scotland Yard that I knew there. They ain’t going to give me permission.”

“That’s too bad.” I shrugged and pushed myself up from the wooden floors, my body ached a bit as I stood up fully.

“It’s your doing.” He pulled a cigarette out from the pack. “Scotland Yard will be gone by tomorrow, I’m sure of it.” He took a step closer to me, “And then—“ grabbing my shirt collar and pulling me closer towards him, he practically shouted, “You are going to sit by that fountain until Every actually appears! How ‘bout that?”

..Well, I surely wouldn’t like that, but I suppose that’s not the answer he expects from me.

“I understand.”

Mr. Abbot let go of my collar, dropping me onto the floor. After I had just gotten off of it. He proceeded to light the cigarette before turning away towards me, and I proceeded to push myself up from the wooden floor again.

“And what of Burrell?” I asked, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to push the issue a little more.

That’s my investigative partner. Seymour Burrell. Though, he isn’t quite good at his job, I’d say he’s more brawns than brains.

He gets around quite a bit, to be honest, and it’s quite helpful for our investigation. I’d bet you there’s not one person around London who doesn’t know who he is. He’s able to get information for us in a jiffy.

..When he feels like it. I said he’s more brawns than brains because he’s, in all honesty, a bit thick in the head. He isn’t quite good at making deductions and is very lazy. I’d never tell him that myself, but that is the impression he gives off, I’m sure most people around London would also agree.

“What about him?” He turned his head quickly towards me.

“..As you know, he has quite a few connections with Scotland Yard. I was curious about if he was able to grab some information or not.” I looked around. “Could he be over at the scene right now?”

“None of my business what that guy does.” Abbot blew the smoke out of his mouth with a sigh. “He left this morning.”

Though, as he said that, loud footsteps came marching in to the office, followed by the sound of the door being shoved open, and Burrell’s sparkling blue eyes. Speak of the devil and he appears, apparently that’s true.

“There you are.” Abbot took his cigarette out of his mouth and gave Burrell a quick stare. “Well? What’s got you so happy go lucky, eh?”

“My connections with Scotland Yard have gave me brilliant results!” Burrell waved his hand up in the air before resting it on his hip. I noticed he only had one glove on. Which reminded me of the time I gave him a pair of black gloves on year for his birthday.

Odd considering he always only wears one glove.

Apparently, he always forgets to wear the other one. That’s what he told me, anyhow.

He closed the door and walked further into the office. “I’ve got information.” He pulled out a notepad.

As soon as he saw the notepad, Abbot, quite literally, ran towards Burrell.

“About Every? Ain’t that right?”

“Quite right, sir!” Burrell pushed his hair back in quite the bragging manner. “I saw an old friend at the fountain, and he let me in on the details.”

“What are you waiting for? Spill!”

He gave a preposterous smile before reading out the contents of his notepad.

“The victim is a 27 year old female. Identified as Annie Jones. One knife wound to the heart — ouch! — and all items were stolen off her person.” He closed his notepad. “You can thank Detective Brown for that information!”

Abbot let out a long sigh. “I don’t know what I was expecting.” He sat down at his desk. “It’s the same every damn time. The only thing that changes is the gender and age.”

“Why do you suppose the gender changes?” I asked.

“Suppose… Heh. Let’s say…” Burrell tapped his chin. I could tell he was trying to come up with some sort of ridiculous joke, but I wasn’t really in the mood for it. “The people that Every kills are also Every’s exes!”

“But it’s men and women.”

“You know, Underwood, they are rare breeds, but some people just prefer them all.”

“Is that so? More for them and less for us, I suppose.” I paused for a moment before coming to a realization. “But wait a moment, aren’t acts like that banned for men?”

Burrell smirked as soon as I finished my question.

“For men, yes. But not for women.”

“This is all quite thought out, especially for you. Is this what you think about in your free time?”

“Yes, sometimes.” He laughed. “This is what I’ve pieced together! Every is a woman, and she kills the people she dates!”

I really couldn’t quite tell if he was joking or not, but his theory sounded very far fetched, I didn’t want to be disrespectful so I just nodded along, hoping he would take the hint and end the conversation.

“Don’t bring talk like that into my office!” Abbot yelled at both of us. I suppose this is sort of a sensitive subject.

“Sorry, sir.” I took a deep breath. I’ve been in this office for far too long it feels as though. “I’ll be going on a walk.”

“Not near the fountain, I hope.” Abbot stared, I didn’t turn to look at him, but I could feel the mean glare he was giving off. My word, I’ll have to start stocking up on coffee beans to stay awake if this is how he’ll be acting when I skip a day of patrol.

“No, sir. Just around London. Some sight seeing is all I’ll be doing.” I grabbed my fedora off of the hat holder.

I was going to ask Burrell if he wanted to join me, but when I looked over, he was already laying down on the couch, staring at the ceiling. That was expected, I’m not sure why I even considered asking him.

I walked out of the office and got a breath of fresh air, it certainly cleared my head. And, for once, there weren’t as many clouds in the sky, I could see the sun shining through small holes where there weren’t clouds, it felt nice. It feels as though it’s always cloudy in London.

My walk didn’t have any specific destination, but I knew that I didn’t, and also, couldn’t, set a foot near the fountain, not at the moment, and Abbot was making me never want to again with all that yelling and grabbing my collar.

Going off of this rule, I made my way walking across the sidewalk in a straight direction. It’s something about the far away chattering of the folk on the streets and the sound of the horse carriages being drawn that calm me down. Whenever the detective agency gets a bit too chaotic, which is often, I find myself coming out here just to listen to the sounds of everyday life. It soothes me.

I continued my walk after dwelling in these sounds for a while, kicking rocks that stood in my way and taking a look inside the windows of shops when I came across one. I often find myself wishing I had a bit more cash whenever I do that.

Eventually, the sidewalk came to a halt, and I found myself no longer surrounded by the big city, but rather in a quiet little fishing place by shore. There were only a couple of men standing around the shore, it didn’t seem like they had fishing rods. I suppose it was just a meet up, and I don’t blame them. Despite my love of the sounds that come from the city, the sound of the waves is the most calming sound of all.

..Except it wasn’t calming today. The men that were by the shore kept pacing around and crouching down. They kept talking about something, I wasn’t close enough to hear them, it all sounded like gibberish, but it was enough to disturb the peace of the otherwise calming sound of the waves.

Of course, London men go crazy when the sun is actually shining for once, so I suppose I can’t really blame them. I’ll just take my walk elsewhere, there are plenty of other shores around London.

As I turned my body and began to walk away, the sound of the men became louder. I turned to see that they were all approaching me. Not knowing what exactly to do, I stopped in my tracks and awkwardly rubbed the back of my head as I waited for the men to approach me.

Once they were close enough to me, I realized these weren’t any ordinary London men celebrating the good weather. These were officers from Scotland Yard, and they had a man in handcuffs.

Once they approached me, we all stood quiet for a moment. The officers were looking me up and down, the only movement I could bring my nervous body to make was adjusting my tie. Once I finished doing that, my hand gripped my tie and I couldn’t find myself being able to let go.

After a moment of silence, only one person spoke.

“Huh?” He exclaimed.

The man had a short ponytail and headband covering up half of his forehead. His clothes were basic, but I was immediately drawn to the fishing rob strapped to his back. This seemed to be the only man who was coming here to fish this day.

But he wasn’t here to fish. He was in handcuffs, with an officer on each side. He looked quite confused, even more confused than I probably looked in that moment.

The man speaking up seemed to have caused a Domino effect, as one of the officers also proceeded to speak up. This time, he walked towards me.

“This is your lawyer, then?” He didn’t look directly at me. Instead, his head was turned towards the man in handcuffs, who turned his head to look at the ground.

Surely this officer is mistaken. I don’t know of any lawyer who wears a fedora or has a brown suit. I let go of my tie after realizing this was a misunderstanding, and felt my body untense itself. I put my hands in my pockets and opened my mouth to clear it up, but the man in handcuffs spoke before I could.

“Y..” He stammered for a moment before tilting his head back up. “Yes. That man is my lawyer.”

“What on Earth are you talking about?” I rudely exclaimed to the man.

The officer cocked his head quickly towards me after that exclamation. I admit my tone wasn’t as respectable as I’d liked it to be when delivering that statement, but I was honestly a bit bewildered.

“Sorry, sir.” I cleared my throat. “Are you perhaps mistaking me for someone else?” My attention was directly at the man in handcuffs.

“Are you lying, man?” The officer beside the handcuffed man spoke up.

“No. N.. No, that man is, uh, definitely my lawyer.” The handcuffed man was not backing down on this claim. 

I was beginning to suspect he wasn’t confusing me for anyone. 

Instead, it crossed my mind that as I payed further attention to detail, this man seemed to be a bit poor. His clothes were basic, yes, but they were also quite dirty. His hands were also covered in dirt, and he looked as though he hadn’t slept in a while. I began to suspect that perhaps the reason he was out here fishing was simply so he could eat food, or make ends meet by selling the fish. I began to pity the man.

Could he not afford an actual lawyer, then? I’ve heard of Scotland Yard paying people to take on cases of poor Londoners, but it’s a very rare occurrence.

Even so, why is this man claiming that I’m his lawyer? He’s certainly gotten me to pity him, much so to the point that I felt almost obliged to agree with him.

The officer in front of me turned his attention towards me once again.

“Are you or are you not his lawyer?” His tone was a bit more passive aggressive this time.

I didn’t speak any words of agreement, but somehow, I found my head automatically nodding yes to confirm his statement.