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Old 04-21-2007, 11:39 PM
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Default The Case of the Amazing Diamond of Tremendous Amounts of Wealth!

The Chronicles of Inspector Kollom

Part One: The Case of the Amazing Diamond of Tremendous Amounts of Wealth!

By Leman

REady For Grading

Blue=what he is writing

In a huge, fancy manor a tall, skinny old man scribbled furiously on a long roll of a browning piece of paper. He had an anxious look on his face, as though he had little time. He took his dark, black, quill off the paper, and dipped it into the large inkwell beside him.

He held the quill over the paper, and quickly glanced out the window, and looked out into the streets, and pouring rain. The light of a single street lamp illuminated the street bellow. There were no cars; just a lone Honchkrow perched on top of one of the tall dark houses across the street. It stared at the elderly man in the window. He shoed it away, and cried out, as it took off. A single tear dropped to the floor, from the old man’s eye.

He glanced around the room. It was empty except for a the large desk, and chair, in which the man sat, a tall, waxy, candle, that sat on the window sill and a red and black dog, lined with bones across his perplexed face, and skinny body. On the man’s desk, there was just and inkwell, and the piece of old parchment.

The man himself was old, about 55-60 years old. He was tall, and skinny, and his long bony fingers were wrapped around his black quill as he resumed scribbling on the paper. He was writing so fast, that what was left of his white hair shuffled around.

The paper read:

“By the time someone finds and reads this, I will most likely have fled the city, perhaps the entire region. I am, or used to be, Inspector Kollom. There are some people who do not want me to be here, or alive, or to be writing this, but I’m doing it anyways. Why am I fleeing, you ask? I will tell you. It all started 30 years ago, when I was 26, in 1894. It was on this very day when I received my first case.

I was a much harder case than most of the other cases that the other people who had graduated from the Fuchsia city Academy of Detective work. It was a good day, seeing that they were going to offer a grand reward for the retrieval of the Amazing Diamond of Tremendous Amounts of Wealth. I called it Adtaw in my logs.

Those logs have been burnt though. I had two trusty sidekicks back then, only one of which is with me now as I write this, but you will know have met him if you find this. The first was a Mankey named Pig. Pig was a funny little critter, standing about two feet tall, and was covered in golden brown fur. He was an awkward little fellow, always wearing a brown bowler hat, and a long brown coat. He always had a small pipe in his mouth, which was used to blow bubbles. It was brown, too. Pig was thoughtful, and clever, and back then, he solved some of the mysteries for me when I was new to detective work.

The other was a Houndoom, called Sleuth. Sleuth, with his amazing sense of smell was able track down the most elusive foes, and corner them, though he was often distracted if there was a delicious animal lurking nearby.

When I received the case for the Adtaw, it was a rainy night. I was reading in my small rundown wooden shack, in the light of a stubby little candle, which had been seven inches tall when I lit it. I had one small window, covered with a streaky, wet glass. Sleuth was resting on my bed sheets in the corner, and Pig was sitting on my small desk, that sat under the window. The desk covered an entire wall, where the window was. Two of the other walls, had bookcases lining them, filled with old tattered books, except for the spot where Sleuth resting. The last wall was bordered by a small hammock, hanging from the roof; a small shelf protruded out of the wall, where I placed my candle.

At about midnight, there was a shrill scream that broke the monotonous pitter-patter of the rain. I put my book down, and slowly walked to the window. All that I could see through the streaks, and the rain, was a flickering light up at the top of the Monterman’s manor. A woman began to shriek loudly, ”George! George, come here quickly! Its not here, George!”

There was a loud thump, and the shrieking of the woman, was replaced by a man’s voice, George. “It isn’t here!” he roared, “Perkins! What did you do with it!?”

A frail, timid man’s voice, spoke, but I did not here what he had muttered. Then George began to roar again, “What do you mean you didn’t do anything to it?! There was no one else in this house other than Bertha, you, and myself! The windows are intact, and so are the doors! If you don’t have, it where is it!? I don’t suppose someone just opened that window, and flew in, and took it!”

The timid man muttered something else, but it wasn’t able to be heard either. George roared again. “Well then, if you don’t know, go get me someone who can find out! Be back here in ten minutes, or I will have you arrested for burglary.”

There were no more sounds now, except for the old pitter-patter of rain. The light up in the Monterman’s house continued to flicker”

The old man picked up his quill, and massaged his hand. He thought about what he had wrote, and chuckled. He gazed out the window into the same rain. The old Honchkrow was still perched upon the roof of the house. When the older Kollom saw it, it took off. Kollom muttered, “Blasted bird,” under his breath, and continued writing.

Done: 8680

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Last edited by Leman; 05-05-2007 at 04:07 AM.
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