A Detective Story for Creative Writing: Gaining the Reputation - Essay Example

English Gaining the reputation Theophile has always been an intelligent and highly moral creature. For the six years of our friendship there never had been any case to put a shadow of disgrace on me because of him, or on Theophile himself. A dog breed dachshund of juicy chocolate color, he seems to look after me as much as I look after him. That’s why the door-bell ring in my new apartment and an unpleasant dialog that had followed further made me feel both angry and confused. I moved just the day before and most of the boxes were still unpacked, so it took a few minutes to answer the door. A ruffled woman in ages wearing an old coral sweater stood there. She was furious. “Your dog had stolen my door carpet!” “Well, good morning to you too. I don’t know who you are, but I can reassure you that Theophile…” “Your dog had stolen my door carpet! Where’s it?” – woman shouted again, trying to glance inward my apartment. I raised my voice too, and repeated. “Excuse me! Who are you?” Woman seemed had come into consciousness at last. “Oh, I am? I live here, second floor. Yesterday I had a door carpet cleaned and cozy lying near my door. Then you moved in, your dog was running all day long – fine! I’ve heard it once again messing near my door early this morning. Or was it yet night? And voila! Carpet’s gone”. Though I didn’t like the explanation she gave me, it seemed quite reasonable for the Theophile as a newcomer to be suspected. But he would have never done that. He was too bred and trained. I tried to explain that to the woman. She shook her head. “You can’t know for sure talking about the creature. You give it a freedom, and it makes a mess. I’m going to keep an eye on it from now”. And she left, going upstairs with her steps heavy from suppressed anger while Theophile was skulked somewhere between boxes ready to burst into growling. I heard Woman’s door closed on the second floor noisily. And then with the sensitive click the other door closed on my first floor. Someone had been overhearing. When the next morning I was coming back from the walk with Theophile, yesterday’s woman was standing near the house’s entrance chatting with another woman. Second woman looked thin and nervous and, apparently, was going for a walk with an adult rough collie sable-white. Sensing her owner’s anxiety collie was looking about nervously. Yesterday’s woman had noticed me and Theophile coming closer and before I had a chance to wish them both a very good morning, she said: “We have another missing carpet here”, - she gave Theophile an arch glance. “From this nice lady, also second floor”. “Also with a dog,” – I replied. A slight blush had appeared on pale chicks. “My Loo would never…never…” “…Would never steal something from owner,” – yesterday’s woman helped collie’s owner to finish the phrase. “Because it’s silly, isn’t it? And what a coincidence: you appear, door carpets disappear”. “A complete madness”, - I summed up already opening the entrance door, leaving two women thinking about the polysemy of this answer. “Madness or not, but she can’t continue setting the whole house against my Theophile, playing what? Ms. Marple, or something?” - I was talking to Theophile later after the breakfast while washing dishes furiously. Theophile was lying inside the large sunny spot on a kitchen floor looking through the kitchen window, deeply thinking. How such a quit and intelligent creature can possibly be considered as a thief! If this woman wants to play detective I will play detective myself. I’m going to clear my dog’s reputation. Agatha Christie once said that the best ideas for her novels used to come while washing dishes (Christie, 2012). I had come with the idea to set up my own investigation. For the next morning there had been already four missing door carpets, so the number of tenants of the house who had decided to “keep an eye” on Theophile were increasing. In my turn, I had decided to keep an eye suspiciously on dogs’ owners in our house. I had excluded the possibility of thief coming from the street, because the entrance door of our house has an entry-phone. I had also excluded the possibility for a human to be a thief. Clearly, it was someone’s dog bad habit that somehow revealed itself concurrently as I moved in. But how could that happened? Dog doesn’t change its habits so easily. That was one thing I was sure Theophile not doing that. If there was such a bend in dog’s character owner would have noticed. Another reason for Theophile not stealing carpets, of course, was me keeping the door to my apartment closed for the night. Though I consider Theophile to be a very clever dog, I can’t imagine him using keys to get out of the apartment and then get in again bearing a door carpet with him – quite a heavy thing for someone about his size. At last, I had concluded that the thief must be: a) A dog from our house, big enough to deal with the door carpet b) A dog from our house, whose owner leaves the door open at night c) A dog from our house, whose owner knows that his dog is guilty As all thefts were revealed in the morning, I presumed the crime-time would be or later night, or a very early in the morning. When evening had come and all dogs’ owners were coming for a walk with their pets, I settled an observation point near the kitchen window from where a good view on the entrance door was opening. As dogs’ owners were exiting I was carefully comparing their dogs to my paragraph one. Here appeared to be three dogs in the house big enough to make the door carpet theft: collie Loo owned by the nervous woman, the Great Dane owned by the boy and his father and the dark Belgian Shepherd owned by the granny. And these were people whose flats’ numbers I needed to know. As they had started to come back from the evening walk I stuck to the spy-hole in my door listening carefully. Luckily, I was living on the first floor, so both three supposed criminals would be passing by. Theophile came and stood motionless near my feet. The granny and the dark Belgian Shepherd were the first to return. They passed by and stopped somewhere on my floor. Could it be possible, that granny was the one overhearing me talking with the woman first day? The door opened and then closed with a slight click – the same sound! The answer was “yes”. The nervous woman with the collie were second to return a few minutes after. I had already known from my unpleasant conversation that Loo and her owner lived on the second floor. Indeed, a few moments later there was a sound of a door closed somewhere on the second floor. I had waited about a half-hour for the boy and his father to return from the walk with the Great Dane, both laughing. The Great Dane was jumpy and happy. “I bet we would win you tomorrow! I bet!” – cried the boy and the father was laughing. “I’ve just slipped on the mud, you both know that!” A few moments after I heard their voices vanishing somewhere on the last, fourth floor. Alarm ringed this night as I set it – at the midnight. I slipped into jeans and sweater, then carefully, from the apartment trying very hard not to awake Theophile. The most dangerous mission was only my own. Yet if someone would notice me wandering the house after the midnight there would definitely be one more reputation to clean. A massive spiral staircase made of stone lead to upper floors. The house was built at the beginning of 20th century and there still was a vintage fleur almost indistinguishable on the daylight. But now, in the moonlight house seemed again young and eternal at the same time, breathing the cold night air along with the number of peacefully sleeping creatures under its roof. I walked the fourth floor perfectly illuminated with electrical light and found no open doors there; missing the third floor illuminated only with the moonlight I thought how I was lucky to have no businesses there. On the second floor I had found two doors unlocked both with the door carpet missing. As there were only two doors without carpets on the second floor I concluded that behind one of them leaved the ruffled woman, and the second, probably belonged to the collie owner! Gotcha! Cleaver enough! That’s why she was nervous. She probably faked the theft in order to have an alibi. “…Would never steal something from owner, because it’s silly”. Silly for the dog – enough for the human! Mission closed. I was coming downstairs with the sense of the triumph, but also thinking deeply, how I would disclose the Loo and her mistress. I had no doubt it was Loo stealing door carpets, because I heard with my own ears how the granny – the owner of the last suspected, - closed the door early this night. Nevertheless, I walked the first floor just to reassure myself. All doors were locked. I was already unlocking the door to my own apartment when I heard a strange whining noise coming from the underneath. But I was standing on the first floor, where it was coming from? The sound had repeated, and I suddenly wished Theophile was here with me with the wise and unshakable look on his face. Nevertheless it was scary, I followed the sound. Near the entrance door was another door unlocked and broken, but the electric light was switched behind it. A whining sound was coming from there and I definitely could say that was the dog whining. I opened the door and found a zero floor – a common thing for such an old house like mine. I had never thought there’s a zero floor! No one lived here and, apparently, no one came here lately. At the farther corner laid a dog of mixed breed, four door carpets were beneath it. It was the dog who was whining. There was extremely cold on the zero floor. No wonder dog was stealing carpets. But how on Earth dog had got here? Oh… Suddenly, all was clear to me. Of course, the dog came the same day I moved in BECAUSE I was moving in! Carrying boxes and stuff I apparently left the entrance door open for so many times. The dog came in and never came out, because was too afraid of people to come at day, and not be able to open the entrance door by at night. There was no food, and only sharp freezing cold. Oh, poor dog! It took about half-hour for the dog to let me brought it to my apartment. Theophile was awake. He didn’t mind the newcomer at all. I knew he understood: it was the creature that needed care. I fed the dog with milk and bread and let her sleep on the old sofa. I slipped from my apartment one more time this night to return all the door carpets back to their owners. I knew Theophile wouldn’t sleep until I came back. Reference Christie, Agatha. (2012). An Autobiography, Reprint Edition, William Morrow Paperbacks. Read More