The Clue of the Leftner-Scroll
E
milia Lawkens pulled out one of her father’s poetry journals from a pile of journals. Her father was a famous and decorated police officer, but he was also a great poet and had won many poetry competitions with his pen name, Miki's Signet. Emilia was in the habit of reading at least one of his poetry every day, this was her source of inspiration. She often wondered how they managed to kill such a powerful mutant just like that? How come? who ordered the killing of her father? What sought of sick bastard will kill a man in front of his child? Metallic bullet could not penetrate him; the bullet was made from strange material that most mutant have never seen. She knew that she needed to get her father justice or die trying. She struggled to subdue the rage which was struggling to overwhelm her entire being. She fought off the evil thought and the rage that desired her soul.
She grabbed the journal and forced herself to concentrate. She opened the journal and she enjoyed the smell of old paper. She admired her father’s handwriting. Such a beautiful handwriting! she thought to herself. She enjoyed the addiction of reading and reciting her father’s poems. She flipped the pages to April 9th. The last poetry her father ever wrote and she whispered it meditatively:
Fates Chandelier of Skulls:
Fate, in her myriad alter-egos
Adored a thousand gowns to the ball of humans
Wielding in her hands, the scale of justice and judgement.
Many gasped, and others murmured in hushed whispers
Wondering, from which hands will lady fate accost them
Will I smile or cry? will I celebrate or mourn? They whispered rhetoric questions
Lady fate, with her myriad faces
Some frowning, some smiling, some grinning
There, she called of all beings, ruling as she pleases
Some she condemned, some she approved,
But at the end, she gave to all
At last, she made chandelier of their skulls
As a sign, that no matter how good, or evil or self-righteous
Our skulls will adorn the chandelier of her court.
This was one of the strangest poetries her father had ever written. She felt that this meant something. Did her father have the premonition of his untimely death or was her father aware that his life was threatened? She was lost in thought and was tempted to cry again, but she knew that she couldn’t, she had vowed not to cry again until everyone who ordered her father’s death was dead. She heard her cell ring, she picked it up and it was the secret investigator on the other end.
“Hello” she greeted.
“Emilia, meet me in the underground parks of city central mall, level 3b. Come disguised.” he instructed and ended the call.
She wasn’t afraid of anybody but only a fool always goes about seeking trouble. She decided to go in a disguise like every other normal teenager her age. She put on a blonde wig and she slid into black pants and she wore a tan top and pulled on a neck muffler. She pulled on her coat and concealed her vaporizers gun, he pulled on her favorite blue boot and she was good to go. She went down stairs and walked up to the paint of some crazy woman on the wall, it was the paint of her granny. She was really crazy but Emilia loved her to pieces, she was dark as chocolate, her dad took after her granddad who was as white as milk. She loved the combination; she recollected her dad’s complexion around granny looked contrasting. Granny died from a broken heart few months after her dad died. She could never forget that day, even if she wanted. It hurts even more to know that granny died an unhappy woman, miserable in her last days…she would go to her late son’s room and grab the son’s shirt and used it as a pillow case. She would weep herself to sleep. Emilia had never seen such devotion and love of a mother for her child. Uncle Viom and Heffner, tried all they could to console her, but she was inconsolable. Her dad was the bond of the family, he was selfless and he always put the welfare of the family first. He always honored the mother. She was buried by her son’s side. Their bond lasted till the end.
Emily slid the painting side-ways and it clicked; a secret door opened. She internationally used grandma’s picture. She needed to hold on to her pain, it was the fuel with which she prevailed. She entered a lift and she went three stores’ down to her packing lot with many cars. Her secret abode was an underground mansion built under a huge temple which was constructed close to a beautiful forest at the edge of Vellomn metropolis. The temple was a beautiful edifice. She had secretly donated the vast building anonymously to the monks. She had learnt that the best place to hide was in plain sight. Who would have suspected that the most wonted person in Vellomn metropolis was living under one of the visited temples? Emilia thought to herself with a frown.