Guy's
This is my first detective novel. I hope you like it....
The corridor buzzed with low whispers and nervous breaths. Dozens of people sat in a long line, each waiting for their turn to enter the Warles Detective Agency the place where detectives handled everything from brutal criminal cases to strange supernatural disturbances.
A sharp voice echoed through the hallway:
"Next!"
All heads turned.
A young man slowly rose from his chair.
William Aurins.
Not famous.
Not experienced.
But completely fearless.
He walked toward the large wooden door at the end of the hallway. Its surface was carved with ancient symbols marks left by detectives who once investigated the dark unknown.
William pushed the door open.
Inside, the room smelled of old books and burning tobacco. A man stood near the window, wearing a classic detective hat and holding a pipe between his fingers.
Arthur.
The legendary detective.
A man whose name alone made criminals tremble.
Arthur's sharp eyes slid toward William.
"Oh? A young handsome man?" he said with a slight scoff. "We only hire experienced people here. Why are you wasting my time?"
William didn't flinch.
"Sir, you can't judge a pen without seeing how much ink is in."
Arthur paused.
Slowly, a smirk appeared on his face as he set his pipe on a cup.
"Very well then… since you're so confident"
He leaned forward.
"Tell me what's different about this room.
Right now.
Before I change my mind."
Silence filled the space.
William stepped deeper into the room.
His eyes scanned everything the floor, the bookshelves, the desk, the walls, even the tiny objects placed with strange precision.
A test.
A trap.
A challenge.
His first moment to prove he had the eyes of a real detective.
And William… noticed it.
William smiled, letting his eyes sweep across the room one more time.
Then he spoke calmly:
"There is one more person in this room."
Arthur raised an eyebrow, irritation flashing across his face.
"Nonsense. Prove it. Without proof, truth becomes a lie… and a lie becomes truth."
William nodded gently.
"When I entered, the couch had two fresh seat sags. That can only happen if two people sat there recently."
Arthur crossed his arms.
"That could be from the previous candidate. Someone like you."
William's smile widened slightly.
"No, sir. It can't be."
Arthur narrowed his eyes. "And why is that?"
William stepped closer and pointed at the couch.
"Because no one would dare sit here and face you eye-to-eye, Great Mr. Arthur. People are terrified of your reputation."
Arthur's expression shifted.
"And the second proof?" he asked quietly.
William looked down at the couch again.
"There is an expensive thread stuck on the cushion — the type only senior detectives wear on their coats. Someone high-ranked was sitting here. Not an applicant."
He lifted his gaze.
"So… would you like to say anything more to me…"
William paused, his voice calm but confident.
"Mr. Arthur?"
Silence filled the room.
Arthur stared at him this young man who noticed what others would ignore.
And for the first time in years…
Arthur smiled.
Arthur stared at William, a rare smile forming on his face.
"You… you look like a younger version of me, boy. And You are"
But before he could finish, William suddenly interrupted.
"I know I'm wrong."
Arthur froze.
A shock ran across his expression.
"…What did you say?"
William lowered his eyes for a moment, then looked straight at Arthur again.
"I said I know I'm wrong. All of it the clues, the deductions, the second person in the room…" He exhaled softly. "It was all created as an illusion."
Arthur's pipe almost slipped from his hand.
"An illusion?" he repeated, stunned.
William nodded slowly.
"The extra seat depression… the expensive thread… even the room's scent."
He walked toward the couch.
"They were placed here too perfectly. Too deliberately. Not natural signs, but constructed evidence."
Arthur stepped closer, his eyes narrowing with intense interest.
"And how," he asked quietly, "did you figure that out?"
William smiled faintly.
"Because real clues don't shout.
Real clues whisper."
He looked around the room again.
"And these were screaming."
Arthur's shock turned into something else
Respect.
Arthur's eyes narrowed.
"How?" he demanded. "Explain it."
William lifted his chin slightly, a calm confidence in his voice.
"Let me do the honours."
He pointed toward Arthur's chair.
"First of all, the carpet where you are sitting has clear footprints your footprints. But the carpet on the opposite side?" He gestured. "Not a single mark. If someone else had been here, standing or sitting, there would have been at least one sign of movement."
Arthur's brows lifted.
William continued, walking slowly toward the couch.
"Second, this couch doesn't have the kind of texture that traps clothing dust or threads."
He brushed his fingers across the fabric.
"So the thread lying here?" He smiled. "It was planted. And planted too perfectly."
He turned back to Arthur.
"So yes…
You went wrong.
I just played along."
For a moment, the room fell into complete silence.
Then Arthur smirked a small, proud curve of the lips.
Before he could say anything else, the side door swung open.
Arthur's assistant stepped in, breathless.
"Sir a murder case. We need you immediately."
Arthur's gaze slid toward William, sharp and evaluating.
Then he spoke with a grin.
"Get ready, William."
He picked up his hat and turned toward the door.
"It's your first case."
William's eyes widened not with fear, but with anticipation.
His journey as a detective had officially begun