28 August 2012
When the phone rang, James Black was reading a newspaper and eating his breakfast. He reached across the table, picked up the phone and spoke: 'Hello?' 'Hello, is this James Black? The detective?' 'It is.' 'Good. My name is Jeremy Stone-' The rest of the man's sentence was drowned out as James choked on his cereal. When he was over the fit of coughing that ensued, he said weakly: 'Jeremy Stone? As in, the arson case?' James had just been reading about it in the paper. 'The very same. Listen, could you be at the trial today? I need to speak with you. The address is-' 'I know the address, it's in the paper I'm reading. I'll be there right away.'
An hour later, James was outside the magistrate court where the trial was being held. He walked through the arched doorway, and followed the signs until he was outside the courtroom where the trial was due to be held. Then- 'Excuse me? Are you Mister Black?' It was a tall black man with a strong British accent. James recognised him as Jeremy Stone. 'Yes. Why have you called me here?' 'Er - can we get out of this corridor first?'
Soon they were in an empty waiting-room. 'How much do you know about the case already?' Stone asked. 'Quite a lot. Three days ago, somebody broke into Daniel Baxter's house and set fire to it. Baxter was in the house at the time, and called the fire brigade. No real damage was done, but he believes himself to have seen you running from the scene of the crime. The two of you have known each other for years, and are not friends. That's all.' Well, you've got your facts right, sir, but you don't really believe that I set fire to that man's house?' 'Er - no,' James finished lamely. Stone sighed. 'Look, I didn't, okay? That's why you're here. I will gladly give you two thousand pounds if you can find out who really burnt it. And now,' he said, glancing at his watch, 'I have a trial to attend. Goodbye, Mister Black.' The trial was short. Daniel Baxter, as main witness, insisted that he had seen Stone set fire to the house, and Jeremy Stone was sentenced to fifteen years in prison, despite his best protests.
James decided that he would first try Baxter's neighbours. He located the house easily enough. From the outside, it was impossible to tell that it had been on fire only three days ago. James tried the house to the right of Baxter's. An elderly man opened the door. When James explained his reason for coming, the man invited him in. 'Yes, Stone and Baxter have a long, vicious history,' the old man explained over a cup of tea. 'I believe Daniel's wife is actually living with Mr Stone now. But I don't understand why Stone would suddenly want to burn his house.' James thanked him and left. When James knocked on the house to the left of Baxter's, nobody answered and a dog started howling. When he tried across the street, however, a flustered-looking woman answered. 'Mr Baxter?' she said, offering a hand. 'Er - no. Why?' asked James. 'What? Oh, we're his new neighbours,' the woman said angrily, 'and we haven't seen him once in a week! Anyway. Why are you here?' she smiled at him. Er - I'm a private detective. I'm here about the fire that happened on Friday,' James said. 'Oh, yes,' the woman's eyes widened, 'We saw that! A man let himself in, he had his own key. Soon after, the fire started. But we never saw him leave.' 'What did the man look like?' James said eagerly. 'Can you remember?' But the lady had been distracted. Turning round, James saw Daniel Baxter's bald head emerge from a taxi. 'Oh, but sir,' the woman said breathlessly, 'as sure as my name is Susan Ashburn, that man is the one for whom you are looking!' And she pointed to Daniel Baxter.
Twisted • Opuss № I