By Alina Arnold
Warning: gun references, smoking references
It was the start of the summer holidays. The ball of fire introduced itself and is now shining in full strength at the people who long to see and enjoy the warmth. The beautiful flowers opened up their amazing buds, towards the sun showing their magnificence to the world.
Detective David Moore and Sergeant Christopher Walker were relaxing in the busy city: Rome. They have come to see the blazing sun again and to get a chocolate suntan, at least.
“This city center looks different than the ones we have in England,” chuckled Christopher. “At least, we don’t have any more of your clients… Hey! Watch out where you’re going!”
The man who bumped into the sergeant was a man at the age of 50, looking very scared. “Oh! I’m so sorry! I…”
“John Williams! Is that you?” asked the detective.
“David! You’re the person I need. A…”
“… theft happened at your house last night,” continued Mr Moore.
There was a dead silence between themselves. Mr Williams and Sergeant Walker were astonished. “Well, you see, it was actually very easy…” said the detective.
“Of course it is,” sarcastically said the sergeant.
“When you see a person walking, hiding his hand with his golden watch in his pocket and looking very alarmed at people, of course you would think that it was theft.”
“I thought you didn’t notice me…” whispered Mr Williams.
The detective chuckled and they went on.
Mr John Williams lived a few miles away from where they met. His house was on the other side of the city.
His house was small with giant statues of famous people. His safe was sitting in the middle of the room with the door opened.
“The lock is broken,’’ said Mr Williams.
“What was in the safe?” asked the sergeant.
“Money and valuable possessions. Now they’re all gone…” said Mr Williams. “Who do you work as?”
“A jeweler.”
“This is very interesting,” said the detective. “Was your shop robbed?”
“No.”
“Do you know a person that doesn’t know that you are a jeweler?”
“Of course, there are the neighbors, Mr Augustus Simpson, a proud American businessman, Ms Corinna Bastilio, an opera singer, Mr Leonardo Fleming, the manager of the ‘Black Sparrow’ and my maid, Berta.”
“It is amazing to have a hotel next door,” whispered sergeant Walker.
“Can you tell me more about your neighbors?” asked Mr. Moore.
According to Mr Williams’ report, Mr. Augustus Simpson was a very rich man after his father died, as he was his father’s only son. He went to Manchester, got arrested for a theft and went to Rome for a job. He now works at a restaurant. Apparently, he is madly in love with Berta.
Mr Fleming, as he said before, is the manager of the ‘Black Sparrow’. He is from Australia and has been trying to get attention from Ms. Corinna Bastilio.
Ms. Bastilio is an Italian opera singer, who lived nearly all of her life in Rome. However, she did stay for 3 years in Scotland for the sake of her brother, Fabrizio Bastilio.
“John, can you please tell us the name of Mr. Simpson’s restaurant? I would really like to have dinner there!” exclaimed Mr. Moore.
“Oh! It’s called ‘Summer Breeze’.”
As soon as they left the house of Mr Williams, the sergeant grew mad:
“Are you crazy?! I’m not going to a restaurant of a criminal!”
“You don’t understand, Christopher,” said the detective. “I want to know what happened to Mr Augustus Simpson himself, instead of going to his house and making a ‘surprise’ for him. He’s an American, remember? Most probably, he has a gun and might shoot us!” They both burst out laughing.
The ‘Summer Breeze’ was not too hard to find, as everyone knew about it. Numerous customers were sitting and eating, smoking, relaxing…
“Can we have a table for 3, please?” asked Mr Moore.
When they sat down and got the menu, the detective said that he wanted to talk to the owner.
“Good day, gentlemen,” said Mr Simpson. “How can I help you?”
“This is such a wonderful restaurant! Right, Christopher?” exclaimed the detective. The sergeant was silent. “I just heard something very strange: your neighbor, Mr John Williams has been robbed, and apparently you are one of the suspects. My name is Mr Moore.
“Like the detective?” asked Mr Simpson with a shiver.
“No, no! Don’t worry! Do please tell us what you know about the occasion. You can trust us.”
Mr Simpson sighed, ordered a coffee and said:
“You are the first people to tell me that my neighbor has been robbed. Yes, and it’s true, I’m madly in love with Berta. The whole town is talking about it. I don’t even know who Mr. Williams works as because it’ll be harder to know what you a robbing. I just remember 2 nights ago Ms Corinna Bastilio’s screech and another voice:
‘It’s ok, Connie!’
‘What are you doing in my house?!’
‘Doesn’t matter…’ ‘Do tell me please, or you have to bring a beautiful jewel, similar to this!’
‘Connie! Are you joking?!’
‘No, no, my dear Sir. So tell me or you bring it.’
And then there was Ms Bastilio’s muffled scream. Well, that’s all I can tell you, I guess.”
“I heard you robbed something or someone in Manchester,” said sergeant Walker. “Please proceed by telling us that.”
“Oh. This…” said Mr Simpson with a sad tone. “In Manchester I fell in love with Lady Penelope Burrows. I don’t even know how I even loved her. She was such a prideful and merciless woman…
So, she asked me to give her what she valued most: a statue from her father’s collection. I was a blind lover, ready to do anything for my beloved, and I stole the statue. Of course, she gave me away to her father and that’s it…”
“Very strange,” thought the sergeant aloud. “Mr Williams also had valuables stolen…”
“Thank you very much, Mr Simpson!” exclaimed Mr Moore. “It was a pleasure meeting you. Hope to see you in future!”
I think, David, we found our little chick!” exclaimed the sergeant.
“Oh, yes, we did!” replied David Moore. “We just need to ask Ms Bastilio, or Connie (as I presume), a couple of more questions…”
“This dialogue?!” cried Ms Corinna Bastilio. “Mama mia! I should have never shouted! Yes, it was Leonardo, the manager of ‘Black Sparrow’.”
“Was there any reason of blackmailing?” asked the detective, sternly, as if trying to get hold of his hopeless prey.
“No, no! I just wanted to find out…”
“Show me the valuables!” asked the detective, not letting Ms Bastilio finish.
She took out a wooden box and opened it. In there was a glimmering tiara with extraordinary stones that reflected the light in every wonderful way. There was also a small statuette of a woman holding a vine. There was a label that read: ‘ To Mr and Mrs Morris’.
“Give me the tiara,” commanded the sergeant.
“Who are Mr and Mrs Morris?” asked the detective.
“My uncle and aunt,” replied Ms Bastilio in a hurry. “They died a few years ago and now this belongs to me.”
“Interesting…” mumbled the detective and wrote the surname in his notebook.
“The diamonds on the tiara are fake!” cried Mr Williams, who was examining the piece of art. “But it looks like the tiara I had in my safe and it was given to me by my grandmother!”
“By the way, John,” whispered David Moore. “Did you try looking for the valuables in your cupboard?” “Wait a second,” muttered Mr Williams and went upstairs.
“It’s there!” came a voice from above. “The money, the papers…”
Mr Moore and Sergeant Walker rushed upstairs. The attic was in a mess and the cupboard door was swung open. Mr Williams was looking for something. “Where’s the tiara?” he mumbled. “And the 10 thousand pounds…”
“This mystery just gets harder!” complained sergeant Walker.
“Hmm… I was wrong,” said the detective. “There are two little chicks that we have found. I called back to Manchester and this explained everything…”
“Ah! This is wonderful!” said the detective, opening an envelope. “
“Very wonderful! It was very kind of the directory in Manchester to send me this!”
“A wedding picture?” asked the sergeant looking at the detective in disbelief.
“Oh yes, a wedding picture,” said the detective and winked. It was obvious that he was hiding something from the sergeant.
A few hours later, Mr Moore and sergeant Walker were breaking into a house.
“Why are we doing this?!” whispered sergeant Walker. “Shh… wait and see,” replied Mr Moore, finally opening the door. In the cabinet of the owner of the house, the detective put the wedding picture on the table. “Christopher, you hide behind the curtains and I’ll hide behind the door,” commanded David Moore. In half an hour, both of them heard footsteps on the ground-floor and a man’s and woman’s voice. The footsteps and the voices became louder and louder. Both of them entered the room.
“What the…” said the man, which followed by a woman’s screech.
“Yes, yes, Mr James Morris,” declared Mr Moore, coming out of their hiding place.
When Christopher Walker got out of his hiding place, he saw Mr Leonardo Fleming and Ms Corinna Bastilio.
“Mr Moore and sergeant Walker?!” cried Ms Bastilio, giving another shriek.
“You are a very smart couple, you know?” said David Moore. “You are also not bad actors, but made some mistakes on the way… In Manchester something happened with both of you and Mr Simpson, so you wanted revenge. Ms Bastilio became Lady Penelope Burrows and you made him steal the valuable piece of art. But, let’s go back. You, Mr James Morris, were a dangerous man in Australia, so you decided to flee from there to Manchester and got married to Ms Corinna Bastilio, when she was on the island with her brother. Four nights ago, you made an amazing show of the blackmailing, but all you wanted to do, was to make Mr Simpson overhear it. Moreover, you wanted the money out of Mr Williams’ safe to flee as soon as possible and frame Mr Simpson. You stole the tiara and the money beforehand. The exact copy was made, knowing that the ‘bigger theft’ might be happening any time. Then it happened. You put the rest of the money and the documents in some random attic of a store.
I just got one question: what did Mr Simpson do to you that you wanted revenge so badly?”
“You got it all right, Mr Moore,” said Mr James Morris. “Augustus Simpson just knew me in Australia and all that I did there. He was always spying on me, so I decide to take action.”
“Well,” declared the sergeant. “Both of you are under arrest for theft and framing!”
“Wow!” said the sergeant. “This was a tough case!”
“Yes,” agreed the detective. “The statuette in the box and the dialogue made it all clear, though.” They both laughed and went their way on the busy streets of Rome, remembering the case of the Roman theft forever.
Monkeybear Productions 
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