This is a work of fiction, any similarity or likeness to any events or persons living or dead is purely coincidental.
Daly City, 2 Shoal Dr - 3:00am
A phone ring attempted to pull Janet away from her dreams. She was dissatisfied with that fact, as she was having a delightful dream. Janet M. Rouge was just about to outsmart the pompous, intolerable, and arrogant Alexander Darren Keen, also known as “Ass Holmes” among the local police force. Mr. Keen was about to be humiliated in front of the Chief of Police and whole of San Francisco's news broadcasts, if not for the second phone ring that finally woke Janet up.
“Janet speaking,” she said in a half dreaming voice, but her expression quickly acquired alertness, and she jumped out of bed.
“I'll be right over.”
San Francisco, Pier 38 - 3:15am
Janet was now fully dressed in smart grey suit. She pulled up next to Pier 38; a place that is usually quiet at this time was now showered with sirens and yellow tape. She stepped out of her Toyota Corolla and headed into the heart of the scene moving quietly in her orthopedic shoes.
“SFPD,” she said showing her badge to the officer standing in her way.
“Detective,” he said with a nod and let her through.
She moved swiftly in the ruckus of the scene with an air of experience; maneuvering around the forensic specialists, and ducking the violent gestures of several detectives. Janet's long blond hair was tacked away in a bun, her brown eyes were burning with determination, and her pink lips were now pressed into a thin line.
“Sir,” she said as she reached Captain Richard S. Patterson “I got here as soon as I could.”
“Well that is very counterproductive, Rouge, since I've asked you not to come,” he said, although his soft demeanor seemed to indicate that he was not at all bothered by Janet's appearance. At the least, he was not surprised. This was indicated by a slight tilt to the upper left of his rich black moustache. Captain Patterson was of the ancient sort that still believed in the necessary presence of a moustache on the lips of law. Though he was not much taller than Janet, he was well built, and it seemed that most of his hair favored the moustache rather than the tip of his head. The most impressive of his features were his eyes, deep brown eyes that seemed to hold a sea of knowledge from which nothing could be hidden.
“But, sir, he was -” she tried to protest.
“No buts, Rouge! This is too close to home.” His eyes now had an authoritative glow, the same glow that promoted him to his current position. Janet began to consider her Captain's command, as it had a hypnotic touch to it, but her considerations were halted by the sight of the victim's body being carried away.
“Wait!” She yelled. The two men holding the stretcher stopped. She approached it cautiously and removed the black bag from the victim's face. It's John alright, she thought. She recognized Jonathan Hightower's strong jaw and nose, crooked from one too many punches sustained in the line of duty. On his face was an expression of satisfaction as if he had seen something that proved him right. His skin and lips were blue. John spent a substantial amount of time in the bay water; his body was found flouting near the pier by a couple in search of a privet spot. John's forehead was decorated with a bullet hole. Janet frowned and tilted her head; she snatched a plastic bag and tweezers from a nearby detective, and picked a piece of seaweed out of John's hair. She placed it in the bag and handed it to the detective.
“I'd like to conduct further investigations.” She said to the captain.
“Rouge, this is not your case.” The captain repeated sharply.
“Captain, you can't be serious! It's John! I have to find the one who did this to him! He's my partner…” her voice cracked. She realized that she was yelling hysterically at her Captain.
“I know Rouge. He was your partner. That is exactly why I can't let you work this case. You know these men,” he said gesturing to the men working the scene, “you've worked with them, so you know that they will do their god damn best and get this bustard. Now go back home. I want you in my office first thing in morning, ready to catch some bad guys.”
San Francisco, Southern District Police Station - 8:00am
Janet was sitting in Captain Patterson's office, he was not in at the moment so she let herself in. She did so times before, despite John repeatedly telling her not to. “One day you're going to really piss him off, and I'm not going to get you out of that on,” he would say. “I'll stop only if you stop wearing that Hawaiian shirt to stakeouts,” she found herself whispering to the empty room.
The Captain was not surprised to find Janet in his room. Although he was slightly irritated to find her glancing through the evidence found at John's murder scene.
“Captain!” she jumped to the sound of him entering his own office.
“Rouge, I'm assigning you to a case of utmost importance.” Before the captain finished his sentence, a second man entered the room. He was a tall lean figure and his muscular structure was well framed by an Armani suit. His hair was of an undistinguishable brown color, yet his hawk-like nose seemed to have the sole purpose of looking down on others. His blue eyes were scanning the room, they seemed to have the potential of expressing vast excitement, but instead they chose to show judgmental disinterest. The man's name was Alexander Darren Keen.
“Ah! Detective Rogue,” said the man, once his eyes locked on Janet.
“It's R-O-U-G-E, pronounced roozh.”
“French for red.”
“How is that interesting?”
“I do not know, it simply is.”
“Well congratulations on that awesome deduction!”
“I am sorry, but I can only dream to possess a genius mind such as the one that thought up the brilliantly hilarious nickname 'Ass Holmes'.”
Janet's cheeks acquired a reddish color as she turned to her Captain for help.
“I never did find it that funny,” said the Captain apologetically. “Detective Rouge, you've met Mr. Keen before.”
“Yes, the private dick.”
“My official title is ‘Private Investigator.'”
“Let me tell you what you can do with your official title.”
“Shove it up my Ass Holmes?”
“Exactly! Captain, what is he doing here?”
“He is here because you'll be working on a case together.”
Moments later Mr. Keen was kicked out of Captain Patterson's office, it should not be necessary to mention that he was not kicked out by the Captain himself.
“Please don't tell me that he's working John's case.”
“He's not. And so are you, by the way, NOT working on John's case.”
“Captain Patterson, the outburst last night – it was a onetime thing, it will never happen again.”
“Rouge, if I thought that sending you out on a leave of absence would take your mind off this case, I would. But the only thing that can take your mind off a case is another case. I'm doing you a favor Rouge, take it or leave.” Janet could recognize an order when she heard one, and was definitely smart enough to obey it.
“You'll be investigating a theft. Precious diamonds from the collection owned by the Bergenheim family were stolen. Mr. Keen will inform you of the rest. ”
“Thank you, sir. I'll get right on it.”
Janet walked out the office to be greeted by Mr. Keen. “Ready?” he asked, knowing that her will was broken.
“As ready as I'll ever be.” She responded with a sigh.
“Well then, come on,” he said, swiftly turned around and started walking away. Janet followed reluctantly, but was startled by Mr. Keen's sudden stop. He turned around looking her in the eyes.
“Please accept my condolences. I know you and your partner were very close,” he said, and, after a short pause, turned around again. Janet was left speechless for a second, as was the rest of the staff present at this event.
“Did he – was he being sympathetic?” asked a nearby detective.
“I – I think he was,” said Janet and followed Mr. Keen.
“So, are you going to fill me in? Or am I supposed to figure it out on my own?” she said once they were inside the elevator and the silence had grown too heavy for Janet.
“Hm? Oh, right. I am not very used to working with a partner,” Janet assumed that was an attempt at a joke, although generally speaking, such an assumption is a poor one. “A collection of red diamonds was stolen from the Bergenheim family. I hope I do not need to brief you on them. The collection consists of five one carat Fancy Red diamonds; yes it is a real color classification. The diamonds were stolen two nights ago. The police did not find any evidence. The investigation was taking too long for the Bergenheims, so they hired me,” he finished as they reached his car, a silver Jaguar. A silent agreement was reached that Mr. Keen should be the one to drive; it seemed fair considering it was his car.
“And you? What did you find, Holmes?”
“Holmes? Do you really have to call me that?”
“Can I call you Alex?”
“Holmes it is then,” concluded Janet. “Now tell me what you found.”
“I found clues,” He said with a mischievous smile. “You will see. We are going to visit the Bergenheims.”
San Francisco, the Bergenheim Penthouse, Russian Hill - 9:00am
The Bergenheim penthouse had high ceilings and tall windows that illuminated every corner of the large space; it seemed as if nothing should have been able to hide from the light; and yet a thief managed to cover his steps. We were greeted by a butler and were instructed to wait in the lobby; then we were greeted by a maid that led us to the living room. In the center of the room, a young woman dressed in a robe was sprawled on a coach as if trying to posses every inch of it. Her blond hair was let down in a seemingly careless fashion, but her face was engineered to perfection with earthly toned colors.
“Mr. Keen,” She said with a lazy smile, “you should be honored that I am awake at such an hour. If it was not for the diamonds, I would have them shoo you away,” she said gesturing at her servants.
“I am honored to the tips of my socks, Miss Bergenheim. Please, meet Detective Rouge; she will be helping me with the investigation,” he said looking at Janet.
“It's a pleasure,” said Janet. Miss Bergenheim looked her over and seemed to disapprove of her shoes.
“I was wondering if you could elaborate on the diamonds. And, perhaps refresh our memory on some of the aforementioned details,” said Keen.
She sighed and repositioned herself to a less comfortable pose, as if to emphasize how displeased she was with the situation. “The diamonds were stolen while we were on vacation. We were staying at our island; we don't like to be bothered when we're on vacation. When we came back, everything was the same. We only noticed the damn things were gone because of the party!”
“What party?” Janet asked.
“My mother's birthday, of course,” she said, angered at the interruption. “We were going to showcase the diamonds at the party, but they were nowhere to be found! My mother was so upset; she wanted to give the whole thing up. Of course, my father talked her back into it. And it was a complete disaster. Nobody congratulated her, just offered condolences instead. They all felt sorry for us, like we weren't rich anymore! Colonel Sherman offered us a check in case we needed some money for bills; Rodger Setrick found the whole thing exceedingly amusing, and Mrs. Huffman offered us her jewelry for the showcase. I really did not expect that from Rodger; such a charming fellow. It was so embarrassing!”
“So we can assume that none of your family members are pulling this off for the insurance money,” Janet interrupted Ms. Bergenheim again.
“Yes, you can surely assume that!” she said angrily. “We are not stupid, Miss Detective.” She almost spat out the last two words. “Why would we hire the best private investigator in the country if we were the ones to do it?” she deduced.
“Evidently,” said Alex and kicked Janet's foot, as if saying ‘please do not help'. “Ms. Bergenheim, who would have access to your home besides family members,” he then asked.
“The servants, but they left to the island with us. Transportation from the island is scarce, so they couldn't have left and come back. Besides, our help would never do this to us. We've always been good to them.”
“Are there any guests that might have access to the house?” Alex asked.
“No! Why would I let anyone have the k – I mean, access,” said Ms. Bergenheim as her cheeks acquired a rosy tone.
“I see.” That seemed to satisfy Mr. Keen. “Could you tell us more about the diamonds?”
“Of course,” she said with relief. “The red diamonds were in our family for generations. They are worth about 7 million dollars, maybe even more; it's been a long time since we had them evaluated. I mean why bother, it's not like we were going to sell them or anything.”
“Or claim the warranty…” said Janet more to herself than anyone else.
“That's right, Miss Detective,” said Ms. Bergenheim. “Mother's birthday wasn't going to be the first time we showcased the diamonds. We do it every so often. So you can't say we were keeping them a secret.”
“Thank you Miss Bergenheim, you have been very helpful. But we must go now,” said Alex in conclusion and nudged Janet toward the exit.
“It was a pleasure meeting you,” said Janet somewhat cynically; Alex froze in his steps and grabbed Janet by her sleeve.
“Sure it was, Miss Detective,” said Miss Bergenheim with a lesser attempt to hide her true feelings. Janet pulled her sleeve out of Alex's hold and faced Miss Bergenheim.
“I would like you to know, Miss Bergenheim, that we will do all that we can to find the diamonds,” said Janet and turned around. A slight rise of Alex's eyebrow might have indicated shock. It could also have been a twitch.
Janet put on her sunglasses to shield her eyes from the sun once they were out.
“This is why I work for PD; don't have to deal with all that snooty bull crap.”
“I believe the reason you work for PD, is because you lack the basic social skills required of a private dick.”
“You're hilarious, Holmes.”
“Not nearly as much you are. I wonder what would happen if I dressed you up and made you attend one of those showcasing events.”
Janet was about to respond with a very clever and sophisticated remark, but her phone rang and derailed her train of thought. The remark was lost for good, but the phone kept on ringing. Janet decided to succeed at one thing at least and answered the phone.
“It's Jill. Listen; if anyone finds out about this, I'm toast. So even if I help you solve the case, you tell them that you stole my keys and broken in.”
“Got it,” said Janet. Alex gestured toward the car; it seemed they had another visit to make.
“The piece of seaweed you found is native to the shore of Sausalito. The killer must have dumped the body there. He was dead for about half an hour before he hit the waters. The gun used was a Beretta 98. There's a fingerprint on the bullet; didn't match anyone in the data base, but it'll sure be enough to lock the bustard up.”
“What was he wearing?” Janet asked as she entered the car.
“Hacky shorts and a floral shirt.”
"Hm. Any suspects?"
"The gang leader John put away just got out this week. You remember that bust? It wasn't pretty. They think he might have something to do with it."
“Thanks Jill, you're the best.” Now Janet felt like the one with the answers.
“Not a word!” concluded Jill.
“Not a word,” answered Janet and the conversation ended.
“What case are you working on, Rouge?” Alex asked as she fastened her seatbelt. Janet could have sworn that she heard a tint of jealousy in his voice. She was not sure if it was due to the fact that she was in on a case that Alex was not, or that his case did not seem interesting enough to her.
“Your case, Holmes. I'm all yours.” She answered smiling.
Alex was not convinced. “Did you see it, then?” he posed the question as a test of Janet's attention.
“See what?” Janet asked. She considered turning around and checking if she missed something, but decided not to.
“The clue,” answered Alex.
“What clue? There was no clue,” said Janet refusing to be tricked.
“Exactly!” was Alex's response. His eyes now displayed their full potential of enthusiasm. They shone so brightly that a smile was not necessary; it would have only tinted their might.
“So where are we going now?” asked Janet after a moment of silence.
“We are going to visit Mr. Rodger Setrick.”
San Francisco, Setrick Estate - 11:00am
“Mr. Setrick, thank you for meeting with us on such short notice,” said Alex shaking Setrick's hand. He greeted Alex and Janet in his living room; he himself was the one to direct them there. Mr. Setrick's living room paled in comparison to the Bergenheim living room, even though it strived so desperately to be equal, if not greater. But it seemed as if it was inherently lacking the capability to be one, even if it was decorated with dozens of red diamonds it would still not be as aristocratic as the Bergenheim living room.
“Please, call me Rodger.”
“Detective Rouge,” Janet introduced herself and stretched her hand for a handshake. Rodger seemed to have misinterpreted her gesture; instead he took her hand in his, brought it to his lips, and kissed it.
“It's a pleasure,” said Roger with the previously advertised charm. “Miss Rouge I might be speaking out of turn, but, if I may say so, you have a remarkable neck.”
“I am showcasing a ruby necklace tonight, and even though I had a different neck in mind, I believe yours is far more extraordinary. Would you do me the honor of wearing my necklace tomorrow night?”
Alex examined Janet's neck in search of confirmation, but seemed to have been slightly disappointed; only ever so slightly.
Janet blushed, “I'm sorry, but my neck has other plans.” She said.
“What a shame.” His glance stalled over Janet for a while longer, and then moved to Alex. “I assume you did not come here to talk about jewelry. What was it that you wanted to ask me about, Mr. Keen?”
“When you attended Mrs. Bergenheim's birthday, did you notice any strange behavior among the guests?”
“Oh, is this about the red diamonds? So unfortunate, they were a beautiful sight.” Rodger took a second to catch up on his thoughts. “I did not notice any unusual behavior. There was less praise for the Bergenheims, but that was due to the lack of the diamonds. Everyone just felt sorry for them, as if they were not worthy anymore,” he finished.
“But you did not feel sorry for the Bergenheims?” said Janet not sure whether she was asking or making a statement. She could have sworn she noticed a hint of a smile on Alex's lips, but it was gone so soon she could not be sure.
“Miss Rouge, what the Bergenheims have I had to work hard for. I honestly can find no reason to feel sorry for them.”
“Surely you must see some misfortune in the theft of one's possession,” she pressed.
“It is not their possession if they did not earn it.”
“Mr. Setrick, what is your relationship with Miss Bergenheim?” Alex asked, changing the subject.
“Mr. Keen, I hope you don't believe everything you read in the magazines.”
“On principle, I do not. That is why I ask.”
“We are good friends. Actually, she will be the one wearing the necklace tonight. You are both welcome of course; unfortunately Miss Rouge won't be able to come, but maybe you, Mr. Keen, will be able to attend?”
“I would not dream of missing it.”
“Great! Are there anymore question?”
“No, Mr. Setrick. That will be all,” Alex concluded.
Janet and Alex parted with Mr. Setrick, and headed back to the car again.
“Where are we going now, Holmes?” Janet asked.
“We are going to eat lunch, of course.”
San Francisco, Gary Danko - noon
The waitress brought the food to the table; it took a while, but that was customary of such places. Janet was sitting across from Alex, and was surprised to discover the she was not despising him all that much at the moment.
“So what do you think?” Alex asked.
“Setrick was lying, about a lot of things. But so was Miss Bergenheim. I'm not sure what to make of it yet.”
“I was talking about the lamb, Rouge," Alex responded with a smile. "But so be it, let's talk about work.”
“The lamb is great, but I wouldn't know what else to expect from a place like this.”
“You need to learn how to interpret the clues, Rouge.”
“Don't teach me how to be a detective, the academy already did.”
“Yes, they taught you how to catch criminals; but they did not teach you how to catch artists.”
“You think crime is an art, Holmes?”
“No, I think art is an art. Almost anything we do can be considered art. Sometimes it is a painting or a poem, and sometimes it is a theft or a murder.”
“But all you see is a puzzle, a way to amuse yourself.”
“We all have our motives. Why do you solve those mysteries?”
“Because it's the right thing to do; actions should have consequences, and I'm going to enforce them.”
“Oh my, you are so righteous it's almost painful.” Alex took another bite of his meal. “Anyway, what I am trying to say is that you need to learn how to think like an artist sometimes; learn how to assign meaning to the symbols another artist left for you. That is why you were not able to figure out the seashell case, and I did.”
“The seashell case? Really, that's what you call it?”
“Well that was how I figured it out.”
“The seashell?! You know what? Don't talk to me about that case! It was dumb luck, that's all.”
Alex did not respond; he simply kept chewing on his gourmet meal with a satisfactory smile. The action of chewing put an emphasis on his jaw, that Janet have not noticed before; it looked as if it was carved out of marble, and the pale skin seemed to frame it well. She also noticed a certain delicacy of touch that his large hands possessed; it must be useful for handling evidence, she thought. They finished their meal in silence, by which neither of them seemed to be bothered.
On the way back to the car, Alex stopped by a newspaper stand and purchased a magazine.
“What's that for?” Janet asked.
“I would like to find out what is it that Mr. Setrick did not want me to believe.”
And they did find several interesting pieces of information in that magazine. They found out that orange is the new pink, that Mr. Setrick and Miss Bergenheim were believed to have an affair, and several ways to please a man. They also found an informative article about Mr. Setrick's showcasing event; with some flattering pictures of the ruby necklace. The necklace consisted of three large rubies of a deep red color, and about ten smaller stones in between; the necklace itself was made of white gold, and Alex thought that it would, after all, look great on Janet's neck.
“So where should we head now, Holmes?” Janet asked when they finished investigating the magazine.
“Nowhere in particular, I suppose. I already solved this puzzle.”
Janet waited for a moment, and then impatiently asked, “Well…Are you going to tell me about it?”
“No, I am going to give you some time to figure it out on your own.”
“I thought we were working on this together.”
“I thought you hated every second spent in my company.”
“That is a very good point, Holmes.”
“I can drive you to the police station.”
“Thanks, Holmes, that's very sweet of you,” Janet said, with an overabundance of sarcasm.
San Francisco, Southern District Police Station – 1:00 pm
Janet was standing outside of the building staring at Captain Patterson's window. She was considering walking in and telling the Captain how terrible of an idea it was to make her work with Alex; that Alex is arrogant, inconsiderate, and absolutely uninterested working as a team. But she decided not to; she concluded that she could find a better way to spend her time. Besides, she wasn't entirely sure it was true. Instead she headed to her car and drove to John's place.
Daly City, John's Place – 1:30 pm
John's car was still parked next to his house. Janet found that fact to be troubling. John was wearing his Hawaiian stakeout shirt; he was on to something, something big; big enough to kill for. The killer must have driven the car back, thought Janet. She could almost imagine John sitting next to her, discussing the next move.
You know the way into my place. Get inside, grab the spare car keys, and find out what I was looking for.
“Fine, only ‘cause it's you,” she said to the empty air and walked out of the car. She found keys to the place in their usual place. She walked into the apartment, half expecting John to make another comment about hiding the key in a different spot. Maybe then you'd use the doorbell for a change.
“Can't buddy, you would never answer.”
She walked to the kitchen. There were some unwashed dishes in the sink. For a minute Janet considered cleaning them. She decided that there is a different unfinished business she should attend to. She opened a cabinet and grabbed the can of coffee. She knew that John did not drink coffee. She got the spare car key out of the can. She was about to head to John's car, but she was startled by the sound of steps. She took out her gun and raised it in front of her. She moved silently across the room, and was about to turn the corner when Alex's chest found the barrel of Janet's gun.
“Jesus Christ, Holmes! What the hell are you doing here?” she asked as she lowered her gun with a slight sense of relief.
“I thought I might be able to help you. I did not really have anything better to do,” Alex said shrugging, and Janet put her gun away.
“I don't need your help.”
“That is most likely true, but it could not hurt.”
“If you consider being shot not hurting, sure.”
“So you got his car keys. His car is still here. What does that mean? Do you think he was shot here?”
“Does this look like a crime scene to you?”
“No, but we have not checked all the rooms yet.”
“And we won't.”
“Holmes, settle down. This is my case. If you want to tag along, do so quietly.” Alex seemed to be disappointed by this arrangement, although not enough to turn it down.
Janet headed out to the car. She unlocked the door and sat down in the driver's seat.
“Come on John. Give me something. Help me catch this guy,” Janet was mumbling while searching in the glove compartment, under the seats, and in various other storage spots.
“Do you always communicate with the spiritual world when solving a crime?”
“Alex! He was my partner! Could you pretend for a second that you care?”
“I think you care enough for the both of us,” Alex replied, but quickly reconsidered when he saw Janet's face turn red, “fine. I will be quiet. No back seat crime solving.”
John used to say that if you can't fight it or get rid of it, ignore it. And Janet decided to follow that advice. She pulled down the sun visor; a business card was taped to the other side. It read as follows:
Vladimir's Jewelry Box
High Fashion Jewelry
389 Pine Street
Sausalito, CA 94965
Tel: 415 689 4367
Repairs on site!
“Come on, Holmes. We're going on field trip.” Janet said and headed to her car. Alex followed silently and obediently.
Sausalito, 389 Pine St., Vladimir's Jewelry Box – 2:30 pm
“Greetings to the lovely couple!” said Vladimir; at least Janet assumed it was Vladimir according to the heavy Russian accent. “We are over stocked on rubies today; five lovely stones! Would make great earrings, or ring even!”
“Cut the advertisements Vladimir,” said Janet as she showed off her badge. “I'm looking for a man named John; about six feet tall, blond, he might've been wearing a Hawaiian shirt when he came in here.” Janet made a note of Vladimir's involuntary twitch at the sound of the word Hawaiian.
“No, ma'am. Don't recall any such man,” he said nervously, “is there anything else I could help you with?”
“No, that'll be all. Thank you for your cooperation, Vladimir. If you do remember anything, feel free to call me,” Janet said with a confident smile and gave him his card. Alex opened his mouth to ask a question as Janet turned around and headed out. He decided not to interfere.
“Good day,” said Alex with a nod and walked out after Janet.
Janet walked around the building to the back entrance scanning the sidewalk and the surrounding walls. She suddenly stopped and kneeled, running her figure on a slight stain on the ground.
“Blood?” Alex asked, standing above her.
She pointed a uv light at the stain, and it lit up a large splatter. “Yeah,” she looked around and continued, “they tried to wash it off, but blood stains quite a bit.”
“What should we do now?” Alex asked.
“Nothing in particular. I've got what I needed. Now we can go home.”
“I am assuming you are not going to explain yourself.”
“You assume correctly.”
“So be it. Could you give me a ride to my car?”
“I guess,” said Janet, but after a moment of thought asked, “where is your car?”
“Two blocks away from John's place.”
When they were heading to Janet's car she noticed Vladimir conversing anxiously on the phone.
“They're on to us, I tell you!” he screamed into the receiver, but quieted down as he noticed Janet looking at him through the window. He smiled and waved. Janet waved back, and stepped into her car.
Daly City, 2 Shoal Dr – 6:00pm
Janet spent the rest of her day pacing around her living room. She was trying to come up with a legitimate way to tell her captain that she found the murder scene, and possibly John's murderer.
“How do I explain that I knew that John was onto something because Jill told me about the Hawaiian shirt? I can't get her in trouble. And it made sense that the murder happened in Sausalito since John has not been dead for long before he picked up some seaweed there. And, how can I explain knowing very little about the diamond case that I was assigned to?” as she muttered the words to an empty room, her doorbell rang.
I'm not expecting anyone, she thought, and grabbed her gun.
“Delivery for Janet Rogue,” said a man wearing a UPS uniform.
She sighed. “It's pronounced roozh,”
“Never mind.” She responded and signed for the package. Inside was a gift box from Neiman Marcus with a note.
This is your last
clue Miss Detective.
She opened the box; inside was a red silk dress. Janet tried it on and discovered that it does a great job highlighting the curves of her body; it also seemed to reveal a great deal of her back. Thinking to herself that she would never wear this in public, she suddenly realized the meaning of this clue. She put on silver shoes, some white gold jewelry, and got to her car.
San Francisco, Setrick Estate– 7:00pm
Mr. Setrick's house was now full with life; guests were coming in on limousines, the ones who preferred their private cars were serviced by valet drivers, dresses were flowing in a light wind, and the house seemed to be filled to capacity. Janet's Toyota was taken away from her with slight suspicion.
“Name?” asked a man with a list standing at the entrance to the house.
“Detective Rouge,” she answered out of habit.
The man looked through his list, checked it off and smiled. “Ah, Miss Janet Rouge. Enjoy your evening.”
When she entered Mr. Setrick's house, she was slightly disappointed to see that the room had not gained any richness from the presence of the rich. She recognized Miss Bergenheim surrounded by judgmental eyes examining the jewel on her neck.
“Miss Bergenheim, have you seen Mr. Keen?” Janet asked.
“No…oh dear, is it you, Miss Detective? I see you have time for leisure while you are looking for our diamonds.”
“Actually, that is exactly why I'm here,” Janet responded scanning the room. She managed to spot Mr. Setrick walking off into a hallway, and shortly after Alex followed. She, in turn, followed them making her way through the crowd. As she ventured deeper, she started hearing a muffled conversation between Alex and Mr. Setrick.
“You can't prove a thing, Mr. Keen. And I will make that even more accurate by eliminating you. What will you do now, detective?” Mr. Setrick asked pointing a silenced Beretta 98 at Alex's head.
“Nothing,” Alex said with a smile as Janet tapped Rodger Setrick on his back. Before he was able to fully turn around Janet seized his gun and hit his jaw with it. Rodger fell to the ground and was about to rise, but Janet already had her handcuffs ready. She pinned Rodger to the ground and restrained him. “You have the right to remain silent.” She said. “I suggest you use it.”
In the heat of battle, Janet did not notice the large crowd that gathered at the scene headed by Miss Bergenheim.
“Detective, what on earth do you think you are doing handcuffing our host?” Miss Bergenheim asked with fury in her voice.
“Miss Bergenheim! I see you've already found your diamonds,” Janet answered. Alex exclaimed with satisfaction.
Janet smiled and continued, “Mr. Setrick here, used the key that you gave him so that he can steal your ‘heart' at any time, to steal your diamonds. When you all left to the island, he simply walked in and took your diamond. But he couldn't just take them, no, he had to parade his prized possession to prove to you all that he is worthy. So he ordered the making of this ruby necklace from a little jewelry shop in Sausalito named Vladimir's Jeweler Box. I wonder how much Vlad got for this gig. If you notice, five of the smaller stones positioned at the lower end of the necklace are of a slightly less potent red color; that is because they are red diamonds.”
“That is precisely accurate Detective Rouge,” said Alex contemplating his next words. “Though Mr. Setrick is not only under arrest for the theft of the red diamonds, but for the murder of Detective John Hightower as well!” he said.
“That's right.” Janet said impressed by Keen's perception.
“Hightower found out about your plan when he was watching the jewelry shop last night, and you, Mr. Setrick, mistaking him for a tourist civilian shot him,” said Alex.
Janet continued Alex's statement, “You dropped his body in the ocean and thought the current would carry your trouble away. Instead it brought the evidence right to our door,” as Janet finished her sentence the sound of sirens echoed in the hallway.
“You can't prove a thing!” Rodger screamed from under Janet's grip, as police officers stormed the room.
“The diamonds are here in your possession, so you can't get away from that one. And as for the murder, I have a bullet back at forensics with your name on it,” Janet said.
“Rouge!” Janet heard a familiar voice, it was her captain, and he did not seem pleased. “Where are you?!”
“Here, Captain,” said Janet and pulled closer to Alex. “We solved the diamond case!”
“So you did,” said the captain. “Good job, both of you,” he concluded with a proud smile.
The ruckus started to quiet down, the guests returned to their homes, and the diamonds returned to their inherited place. Janet and Alex were now left alone.
“You look great, Rouge,” said Alex, breaking the silence.
“Thanks. You do too, Holmes,” said Janet, and then added, “How did you know my size?”
“I am a detective. It is my job to be observant.”
Janet smiled, and drew closer to Alex, but he pulled away and said, “There is still one mystery that remains; where did you manage to hide handcuffs in this outfit?”
“This is real life, Holmes, and in real life, some mysteries remain unsolved.”
END OF LOG