Jedidiah's muscles were tired from the overexertion of the day, but he wasn't giving up yet, not by a long shot. The man had gotten a good headstart, and he had also discarded his boots.
He's fast, damn it, Jedidiah thought. Those idiots found the right guy for the job this time.
It was now he could see that the man was holding on to some papers desperately as he ran, which was slowing him down and making his steps more awkward. What had really been so important amongst his belongings that had made these people so daring in their onslaught?
Whatever the man was holding was probably important to them, and thus, perhaps important to the case at well. To the think it had been in his possession all this while!
They tore down dirt roads, still within the town as there were a few houses here and there, with people coming out to view the hot pursuit rather than help apprehend the person being chased. Despite his shouts. Within a short while, he'd come to hate this place.
The man made a right turn abruptly, trying to enter yet another crooked, narrow path, when. in a freak accident, he collided with a runaway horse that broke out from the same path.
All the papers fell to the ground. Jedidiah could not believe his luck as he dashed towards the man who was now on the ground, aiming to take everything in one go. But somehow, the man managed to regain himself a bit and broke into a staggering run right as Jedidiah reached.
"Curses..." Jedidiah whispered under his breath, picking the papers from the ground. At least he had committed the man's features to memory, and he would still go back and confirm the shoe size of the boot. These would fit to provide a linking description should he ever have to cross the man's path again.
Something he was assured would happen soon.
The papers seemed to be from a newspaper... he remembered it now, It was an old newspaper; roughly five years old actually, and it had been used to solve the previous case.
But that's done and dusted, Jedidiah thought. Why did this nutjob still come back for the same paper? Could there be a clue in my own possession that I was not aware of?
Whatever it was, it would require him taking a rest first. He turned and jogged back to his inn, spotting the shoe right as he reached there. He picked it up and examines the sole. It was a size 45, and whoever wore it must have worn it very often on a very rough terrain, as the sole had nearly been smoothed out by constant abrasion.
And from the sewing on the sole, it was clear that this wasn’t the original sole, and that it had been replaced at least three times, judging from the state of the sewn leather on the inside of the shoe. So whoever that man was, he was quite the handyman/labourer, and was also a frugal cheapskate as well.
Profiling, however offensive it might sound, was a good approach to solving crimes. He picked up the other leg of the boots and was about marching in when he noticed a pair of eyes watching him from the window of the second room to the right of his. It was a subconscious action; he wasn’t infact looking at the window, but he suddenly felt as though he was being watched.
Looking up surreptiously, he saw the person, who seemed to be a woman, quickly close the curtain. Whoever she was, she was quite better than any of the other guys he’d seen today.
“Just when I think this case cannot get any more complicated, it manages to pull more surprises every now and then,” he whispered, entering the inn and climbing the stairs. The innkeeper was waiting for him in front of his room.
“I…er…just saw what happened here and..ah, I heard you met the guy on your way in and chased him,” the man said apprehensively, probably ashamed that such had happened in his inn under his supposed ‘watch’.
“Yeah, didn’t get him though.”
“It’s darn right crazy that he was so brazen in his attempt, I mean, I never thought that anyone would decide to hit home, as per coming here due to the case.
Of course you didn’t, Jedidiah thought, you just allowed a muddy-shoed sicko to climb up the stairs of your inn like he owns the place.
“That’s the life of a detective for you, I guess,” he said finally, deciding that he’d like to avoid any further conversation and/or argument that would definitely stem from voicing his thought. “I’ll just arrange things here and rest a bit, thanks.”
And with that, he shut his door and tried to ignore the audible sigh of relief from the pink-faced innkeeper. The longer he stayed here, the more unpleasant experiences he’d have to go through.
Sitting down on his bed and looking around his dishevelled room, he picked up the paper and began to peruse it. He couldn’t even do any arranging yet, as his excitement was so spiked at the possible clue that he was more focused on completing the puzzle in his head rather than focusing on his room.
A good detective always keeps himself and his surroundings neat and tidy.
Scrap that, a good detective gets the damn job done, whatever and however it takes, he thought.
He continued reading the newspaper, not finding anything of relevance, until he stumbled on an article in the History Section. About a Spanish Diamond that was reported missing after an attempt by the King’s brother to usurp the throne.
Its name?
El Ojo del Cielo.
The Eye of the Sky.
