The Truth Hidden In Lies (Part 1)
My name is Holland. I am a private detective. A five point six feet tall Asian with a strong sense of justice in my heart, I follow the path that the culprit would ever find my footprint until I surround him or her no where to go but turn themselves in. It’s been six years I am living in UK with my gorgeous English woman, seeking to eradicate and avenge the organization led by them.
A week ago today, I was being followed by the bunch of morons whom I never recognized in my lifetime. From my house to dump yard, there was no such place they stopped watching over. Although I turned over them once, they bluntly passed over as if the pedestrians.
Not more of the strange I felt. But certainly, I deduced they were the members of that organization I am trying to catch to avenge my father’s disappearance.
Soon by the time, I happened to see them in the black Mazda PX at the Letsby Avenue behind my Porsche 550 while I was rubbing the dust on the right rearview mirror. Along with my wife, a stupid waiter from the neighbor restaurant was sitting in the backseat. His name was Clark. To be more precise, We should call him Starch, a member of the so called organization. He was brown skinned with big black eyes, grinning over me as if his plan of getting along with us was a success. My foot, it is because Christina, my wife, who suspected him being a culprit of bank robbery happened six months back. She was one of their hostages when they were trying to flee from the police. Even though five out of six were caught already because of her hints and my deductions, one is still roaming free. Yesterday night, the Hoister news reporter claimed that the culprit is in nearby Gounee street, where we are residing currently.
Why in the world you are with us? I asked Clark.
The time he answered me, I picked up the speed at yellow traffic light from green, and turned right to end up being followed by them.
“Shit!” a woman hit the horn after he left no traces. She came out of the Mazda PX, unpinned her long brown hair with blue eyes, wearing white Venice T-shirt and black short pant. Only if Garry was with me, she said. Her phone ringed from the car. It showed James. James picked up the call from the dark pitched house, which hid his face. As he opened his right bright eyes, she said, He is so clever to move that fast.
Is that so? James grinned as if it was expected from him.
What do I do now? Should I follow him? She asked James deliberately. No worries. He is with them. Come back to the hotel, Alaska, James answered.
In the Mazda PX,
The reason behind your action, wasn’t it because of the car following us back from the beginning, Clark smiled.
Oh, you observed well, he said.
All you need is Hawkeye to the unusual things and the technique of disappearance, Clark hinted him.
That’s how it is, Clark! He smiled.
Christina intervened asking where they were heading. A Palace of Heaven, Holland said.
A palace of heaven? Clark puzzled.
Yes! President of Jeff Stone Company said that the palace was named after their ancestors, Holland explained.
It seems interesting! Christina smiled. Then, why are we going to The Palace Of Heaven?
After the long 2 kilometers road, Holland turned right towards the outskirts of Sheffield.
It looks like they live far from us, Clark said as he looked the trees and muddy road outside.
For your answer, Christina— Holland picked out a letter from the glove box. On the front page, it was written “From Jeff to Dear Detective”. Now the palace is called as A Palace Of Death!
It shocked both Christina and Clark.
Death? Christina startled. Why? Why?
Well, now we will know! Holland parked the car as the Palace looked tremendously colorful in lighting and the diamond on the top of the roof. The Palace covers 5 acres of land, additionally the garden is of 1 acre. The Butler was informed by his owner that we would come and commanded him to welcome us with a Bourbon Wine.
Amazing! Christina’s mesmerizing eyes said it all. Holland gazed at her happiness.
“That idiot! Looks happy in whatever she sees.”
Welcome to the Palace of Heaven! My owner told you would come. It was a nice pleasure to meet a great detective, Holland, the Butler greeted.
This is the place I wanted to live even one day, Clark sparkled.
Anyways, will you let us in and show how beautifully this Palace is constructed? Holland smiled.
My apologies, Sir! Please, walk this way, Butcher walked with them.
As they were glancing around, there was a gardener, watering the flowers. Holland tried to speak with him, but not only he ignored, he walked away from them.
What is wrong with him? Christina asked the Butler.
Pardon me for his behavior, Detective. He is Henry, this Palace’s gardener, Butler apologized dully.
Five years ago, on the day of my owner’s birthday, this Palace was set on fire suddenly, Butler presumed.
No way! Christine blabbered.
Unfortunately, Butler continued. There were many guests all over the Palace. Somehow, my owner, his wife, gardener, and I managed to escape with little burns.
Is that what you have on your hand? Holland pointed.
Yes, it was burnt while I was giving hand to my owner, Butler hid the burn mark.
The next day, he opened the front door and let us in. We found Gardener’s entire family died and mine as well. Butler wiped the tears on tissue.
I’m sorry for your loss, Christina mourned.
A life that is gone, only remembered to loved ones, Butler smiled. Apologies for being sad.
It’s okay, Clark said. Sometimes tears show how much pain it is to remember someone’s absence.
“Someone’s absence?” Holland remembered his father.
“Huh! Tears are the weakness of the person’s mystery that never know until its said or revealed by itself with the time,” Holland smiled.
Why are you smiling? Clark asked.
Nothing, just some bad past.
Oh! There you are! A voice just echoed the Palace.
From the long corridor, they sees a bald fat five feet man with his stick holding with his right hand, and wearing blue white suit. He was walking in smile towards them.
As he reached them, he hugged Holland tight and murmured something. Holland smiled back and drew himself off.
It would be my pleasure, Mr. Jeff! Holland shook hands with him.
I am expecting a lot from you then! Jeff laughed.
Novice, show them their rooms in the first floor. And do not forget to keep Mr. Detective’s beside my room, Jeff commanded the Butler.
Roger that, Sir!
While they were climbing the stairs to above rooms, a woman with jewelries all over her came out of the room.
Oh, my! Is he the one who famed as great detective? She looked low at them.
Did he really think that this poor detective will find anything? She laughed.
Madam, I apologize to intervene, but the time is past three. And this is your sleeping time. Butler said.
I know that very well. Don’t try to tell me where I should be! She shouted.
I am sorry. By the way, who are you? Holland asked.
How rude! She was embarrassed.
Sir, she is the Vice President of Jeff Star Company, Stella!
So, you are the one whom I should keep an eye on, Holland nodded and passed her in silence.
Out of anger, she rushed down, and the butcher showed us the rooms. Before leaving them, the Butler asked to come by two hours from three to the dining hall in the ground floor for snacks.
What a woman she is! Christina was irritated by her behavior, as she threw herself on the bed. This is the woman I never want to be.
There is no doubt why her husband called me to spy on her.
What do you mean? She lowered her brows.
Do you remember what Butler said about the fire?
Yes, I remember. But he didn’t say how. Come to think of it, I read it in the newspapers, as it says it was because of the birthday candle, right?
You’re correct. It is how newspapers printed it. But the fact is, Holland smirked. She was the culprit behind it. That’s why, I was called to make herself in, to the police by her own.
Livelong 