Baker's Detective Agency Chapter 1

Hey guys.
This is part of the chapter directly after the prologue I wrote a while ago, that some of you may have read last week. I don't really know whether or not it stands up as a mystery story on it's own(the mystery here is pretty small), but it is the build up to the main mystery. Also, even though it's a draft, even though much of it may change later on, i have copyright!

Most 14 year old kids would spend a Saturday watching cartoons, or playing sports or video games. Since Callidus Baker got to go to a murder scene, you could guess that he was not like most kids.

It was an old house in the suburbs, with brownstone walls, a red door(the color of blood, ironically), and orange roof tiles. Plain enough from the outside, an icy cold duckpond and beautiful garden to boot. You would never have guessed that somebody had died here. But alas, the truth says otherwise.

The victim is one Hector Blake, aged 41. He lived in the house with a butler, a couple of maids, a younger brother, and a wife. The wife was his second, his first had died a few years back. She was somewhat of a "trophy wife", as she was 28, while her husband  Hector had been found dead at 3 pm in the study. He had been shot. But nobody knows how, or why. That is why the police had been called in. But since they were utterly clueless, they called Baker's Detective Agency. Bartholomew Baker agreed to solve the case, and brought his son along for learning experience. Yeah, learning experience with dead people. What a great dad. 

Before they left, like before every case, Bart stood at the doorway, and looked outside the house, a stare that was long and searching, as if he could see the cuplrit and the crime they had commited with his eyes alone. And then, in a voice that was fierce yet gentle, like the voice a hunter migh use on his prey, he proclaimed "Our time is short, our challenge is fierce. But make no mistake, for the hunt is on!"

So anyway, they were in the study. Bart Baker, was observing the body. Hector had been a fat old man, with a balding head and cataracts, in sharp contrast to Bart , a tall and lean man in his late thirties, with icy and clever blue eyes and an elegant mustache.

"Cal, come over here for a second." He beckoned, and Callidus walked towards him and knelt beside Hector, putting his elbows on his stomach.  Don’t worry, Hector didn't mind.

"What do you make of this?" He asked his son. It wasn't a simple question, he was asking his son about his analysis of the body. Cal looked over it again, and came to a conclusion. "On the security footage they showed us, Hector had stood with his hands in the air after drinking his tea. By that point, he hadn't died. However, evidence would suggest that he had died a few minutes later. So he had collapsed at 10 pm, and died at 10:20. However, the gun wound looks more recent than that. I would hazard a guess and say that the shot was fired after he had died, meaning that the murder planted something in the tea, and shot him after Hector here had died."

Bart nodded approvingly." My thoughts exactly. Good work, son. I would say that the substance in the tea was arsenic. The inside of his mouth stinksof it.''He cringes.'' I did not enjoy the experience. They found the gun in the duck pond, meaning after the crime, the murderer had hastily attempted to stash the weapon in the closest possible place. Excellent." Cal smiled.“Thanks, Dad. But that’s all I came up with. Sorry if the information was lacking," Bart stood up, brushed dust off of his trench coat, and said: "Nonesense. Your info was spot-on, it gave me everything I needed. You're a diamond in the rough, Callidus. Remember that, because I know that you will surpass me someday, leaps and bounds ahead of us all."

"But that day won't come," Cal thought wistfully, but he didn't say it outloud. Bart announced: "Ladies and gentlemen, I HAVE SOLVED THE CASE!"

The police, the butler, the maids, the brother, and the wife all gave him their full, undivided attention. "All right then, Baker, start talking," said Police Commissioner Henry Hughs. The guy is as straight forward and boisterous as it gets.

 Bart starts walking around the room, observing everything while accentuating his speech with hand signals." Firstly, Mr Blake was not shot to death as we first thought. On the contrary he was poisoned and no interruptions!" He warns his audience. “ First, the murderer put the poison, possibly arsenic, into Mr Blake’s tea. Then, after drinking the tea, Hector stood up to stretch, so it appeared to us on the security footage that he was being held at gunpoint. So, when the poison killed him and he collapsed, we assumed that he had been shot. However, his body had been shot later on, but the same person that put the arsenic in his tea. In conclusion, the murder is,” dramatically, he pointed at ...the butler, “YOU, SIR!

Hughs snorted: "Don't insult me, Bart. Don't you think I have learn't anything from my experience with murder cases? The butler was the first person we checked and examined. He was clean."

Bart wagged his finger at him. "Tsk Tsk. Did you really think the butler wouldn't know that he would be the first to be checked. You found the murder weapon in the duckpond. Mr. Sandron here was the one who told you that Hector was raising his hands in the air, as if he was held at gun point, didn't he? And, when he ran to get the keys to the study and a torch, who's to say he didn't run outside, right behind the window of the study, and finish the deed?"

Everyone stared at the butler, a tall and skinny old man, around sixty or so with a bushy moustache, as if to hid his weak features, a fact that would further exempify his inability to do this heinous deed. But looks can be decieving. He said simply, “Yes, Detective Barker. I do not deny it. It was I.”

“All right, buddy!” Hughs stepped in front of the Sandron,” One question: why?

“Personal reasons.” The butler said. “Master’s previous wife was the one that had given us a job. She was so kind, so caring, so innocent. Master was abusive towards her, towards the end of her life he had begun to hit her. Recently, I found out that Master was planning to destroy the garden and turn it into a swimming pool. Mistress loved that garden so much, I feel as though a part of her still remains in it. If the garden is lost, she is gone forever. It was my first and only sinful act, and I am glad for it. Take me away, officers.”

As the police took Sandron away, Bart reasoned with the wife and brother. It was agreed upon, that they could continue to live in the house, but will be fined if they so much as change a flowerbed in the garden.

After he finished with them, he walked towards Cal and winked. “Another case finished. Come on, son. Let’s go home.”

Out in the Dark

I should probably tell you this before you read my work. I have this posted on wordpress.com (with illustrations) and a few grammetical errors. This is one of my oldest stories but I figured this is the best mystery story I could come up with. I don't think anyone will get what's going on at the start but you'll figure it out in the end (hopefully) So I hope you enjoy it. If you have already read it (I don't think most or any of you would have) then just comment.
I woke up in the middle of the night. I couldn’t fall to sleep again. I got out of bed and went outside. The moon was shining brightly and the stars were shimmering diamonds in the night sky. I trotted down the street enjoying the beautiful winter air. Some others were awake too. Most of the people I knew woke up around this part of the night.
I skipped down the grey empty road and after a while I came upon an old man crouching in the corner. He was a homeless man. He wore a dirty grey top with a lot of holes on it. He wore a pair of shorts which were far too short for him. I wanted to play a little joke. I sat next to him and whispered something into his ear. First he seemed confused. I whispered into his ear again. This time he seemed a bit confused and scared. I said it the third and final time and couldn’t help laughing as the man ran away screaming. I just said “How are you?” nothing more.
 I came to the city’s central square. There were usually a lot of people here even after midnight. My kind of people I mean. I saw my friend Finn standing near a shop in the corner. He tripped a passing man who was carrying his groceries. The man turned around and started to bark angrily at the woman behind him. Soon there was a big commotion as the a man and the woman argued about whose fault this was while Finn just stood there between them laughing like a maniac. The argument was broken up by a policeman who stood there shocked and confused when Finn slapped him on the face and ran off laughing.
I walked on about a mile or two when I came upon a new road. I saw a young woman walking a few meters away. She was a tall slim woman and could have been in her early thirties. I wanted to fool around a bit. I started to follow her making my footsteps as loud as possible. The woman stopped and turned around to see who’s there. I looked right back at her and smiled. The woman seemed confused. She turned back and continued to walk. I did exactly what I did before and this time made my footsteps even louder. The woman stopped again and turned around. I just stood there grinning like a madman. She seemed even more confused than before. She started to quicken her pace. I also started to walk faster and louder. She turned around again. I saw fear flashing in her eyes. She started walking faster and faster. In the end she started running but I stayed close to her the whole time chasing her everywhere she went. I chased her all the way to her home even inside it.
She ran to her husband and started sobbing. I must’ve scared her a lot. While the woman was trying to explain to her husband about her peculiar walk home, I walked upstairs to see the rest of the house. There were three rooms upstairs, a big bedroom, a small bedroom and a bathroom. I went into the smaller bedroom to find a little boy about the age of four asleep. I hid under his bed and tickled his feet. The boy shuffled for while before waking up. “Who’s there?” he mumbled drowsily. I jumped out, gave him my scariest face and bellowed “It’s me! The Bogey-man!”
I heard a sound like water running and saw a yellowish wet stain forming on the mattress around the boy. “MUM! DAD!” the boy screamed. There was a sound of footsteps coming up the stairs and the parents burst into the boy’s room. “What is it Timmy?” asked the father. “It’s the Bogey-man,” the boy stammered and started to cry when he couldn’t go on. The mother looked around. “I can’t see a thing honey,” she said in a soothing voice. “B-But he was there. I saw him,” the boy sobbed. The mother didn’t say anything. After all I did scare her. The father though didn’t believe this. “It was just a dream,” he said in a gentle voice. Then he noticed the pee stain on the bed. “Ah! Tim! Did you wet your bed again? C’mon, let’s get cleaned up,” he said as he pulled the boy away. The mother lingered there a bit longer giving the room a funny look before shrugging and walking after her husband. I sniggered as I went out of the house onto the street.

I looked around where I was. I knew this street. I lived here once a long time ago. I remembered the old wooden house that was third from the left. I remembered the broken fence of the fourth house from the right but most of all I remembered the small plain house that was fourth from the left. I entered it and got a good look around. There were three bedrooms. One had a woman and a man sleeping in it. One had a little girl sleeping in it. The last room looked like it was once used long time ago but hasn’t been touched ever since. I knew why. This room used to belong to a boy. His name was Specter Myst. He was a very mischievous boy but also very kind and smart. One day when he was coming home from a party he was hit by a car. Death was instant. That happened two months ago. The people who were living in the house were his family. I remembered this boy. A tall pale skinned boy with brown hair and emerald eyes. Tears came in my eyes when I thought about him.

Something made me look at the clock on the wall. I screamed. It was 6 a.m. The sun was about to rise. I glided out of the house down the street past the square. I ran and ran till I reached the yard and to where I lived. Before I got in and knelt in front of the tombstone which marked my home. It said:

Here lies Specter Myst. Rest in Peace.

I got up and looked around the graveyard before slipping into my black quiet bed. I was home.

Chain Story Part 2 (2nd Update)

Hohohoookay, this is taking a while.
Sorry guys that it's still not up yet, I haven't been able to write very much to add to my part of the chainstory, as this has been an eventful(and headaching) coupla weeks for me(though it's got nothing on the seniors'), but  I've got a bit done, (like, 1/3 I believe), and I promise I will devote my attention to this fully until it's finished.
Also, I told Emerald(Charlie) a very interesting secret regarding the chain story, and, though I know for a fact that you won't do it, I feel as though I must say: please don't tell yet!!