In the town of Morley Farms, detective Simon Harper, a retired police officer, is

well known for his intelligence, quick wit, and ability to solve even the most

difficult of crimes. Due to his experience serving with the police, he is well￾versed in the intricacies of all manner of crimes, from petty theft through to

murder. He often works alongside the police to solve a variety of mysteries.

He works in his office on Douglas Street; a respectable building to fit with a

respectable man. Comfort and practically are the hallmarks of this small office,

where the rent is cheap, and the work is plentiful.

Mr. Numb Gaffer, his assistant, hasn’t been working with Simon for very long

and considered himself quite ordinary when compared to his employer. With a

lot to learn about the world of detectives, he intends to learn all he can from

such a highly respected man and hopes that one day he’ll be able to start

solving crimes himself.

ABOUT YOU CAN’T ESCAPE

You Can’t Escape is a series of detective stories set in Morley Farms, featuring

Simon Harper, his assistant Mr. Numb Gaffer, and Police Inspector Mr. Marmot.

Morley Farms is set in a fictional location where people still have servants and

the police routinely seek help outside the force. While set on Earth, and bearing

many similarities to our own world, it is set in a completely different timeline.

Picking the Wrong One is the first story of the series. In this story, a jewel is

stolen from inside of a computerized mechanical safe. Simon Harper must help

his friend, Tamayo Judas, and the police, to solve just who stole the jewel and

how, while the story revolving around two deaths that make the plot much

more complex.

PART ONE: JEWEL IN THE

TOWN

A NEW CASE ARRIVES

Autumn was fast approaching the town of Morley Farms, which “enjoyed” short

summers, long winters, a colorful autumn, and practically no spring. Outside the

leaves on the trees were already beginning to turn, vibrant spots of yellow and

orange breaking up the pure green that had once graced the streets, and the

weather had quickly taken a turn for the worst.

That Wednesday morning the rain hammered down against the window as we, I

and my employer Mr. Simon Harper, sat across from each other. Simon was

poised to snatch another victory that morning, while I fumbled with making a

decision on which piece to move. Not only could I not pick between my bishop

or castle, but I wasn’t sure where I wanted to direct that particular piece too.

Simon had well and truly screwed me.

“Come on, Numb.” He admonished me, fingers twitching in anticipation.

Patience was the one virtue that Simon didn’t have, eager to claim another win

on his scorecard. All in all, it sometimes felt like my only role was to slow him

down to avoid mishaps on our adventures. Oh, and lose at Pick the Wrong One.

“Don’t rush me,” I said, frowning down at the board. My only real aim now was

to limit the damage that had already been caused. Winning was quite out of the

question.

A mixture of Old Maid, in which you must avoid “winning” the designated card,

and Chess, I’d made a right mess of it. In the very first move I’d managed to

select the dreaded Joker from a hand of six cards, and because the rules stated

that he must, Simon took away one of my chess pieces. He’d been generous

about it, stealing only a pawn, but since then the match had continued to go

downhill.

Letting out a heavy sigh, I could feel my brain chugging away inside of my skull.

How could I trick Simon into taking the Joker back? His queen, the most terrifying piece on the board, was quickly closing in on my king. If I didn’t disable

it soon then the game would be over sooner than it took to boil a cup of tea.

Sweat beaded my brow as I elected to sacrifice my second knight, who’d been

sitting useless on the board since the match began. I didn’t know it then, but I

had unwittingly sealed my fate.

Simon’s fingers flittered over the cards I held out to him, dancing across the

seven, the ace, the joker, and back to the ace again. Sometimes I wondered if I

had some kind of tell, announcing when he was touching the joker because I

couldn’t recall Simon picking it a single time. Today was no different. Plucking

the ace from my hands, he grinned.

Another pair.

There was a stark difference between the sizes of our pair piles, Simons at least

double that of mine.

“Bad luck, Numb.”

“Only when I play with you,” I retorted.

Outside the rain continued to lash against the window, playing erratic drums

against the single pane of glass. Accompanying it was the scrape, scrape, scrape

of twigs from the sapling a client had gifted us to “warm up the place,” and the

clatter of the blind. Simon persisted in keeping the window open for a breath of

fresh air.

“Checkmate.”

I groaned, staring down at the board dumbly. How on earth had I missed that

move? He’d pushed forwards his bishop, cutting off the last means of escape

my king had possessed.

“You don’t play fair.”

He shrugged. After so many games Simon had heard it all before, and the truth

was that I was as unlucky as I was dumb. Despite my love of strategy games, my

victories were outweighed by more losses than I could count. Blackjack, Poker,

Checkers, it didn’t matter what we played, I invariably lost. One could argue

that Simon was a genius, so it was natural that he would win, but if he really

was a genius then it wasn’t fair for him to possess such good luck, attractive

features, and talent at almost everything he put his hand to.

If it sounds like he is perfect, I assure you that he isn’t. There are many things

that Simon doesn’t shine at, but he very craftily avoids them, so that he appears

to be a hero out of literature.

“Another game?”

There didn’t seem much point to it, that morning. Rain always made me feel

glum, and my mood had been considerably worsened by the fact that a truck

had rumbled past me this morning, soaking me from head to toe.

With a heavy sigh, I leaned back into my chair, feeling as miserable as the

weather.

“How do you do it?” I asked. Simon had not just easily won the Chess part of

our match, he’d also won Old Maid. Having assigned values to each of the chess

pieces and to the cards, in an ideal world we would have tallied up the scores to

find out the victor. That was completely unnecessary today.

“Practice. Now come on, I’ll give you a handicap.”

Before I could shake my head, there was a knock at the door, and our faithful

servant “Joseph” entered, his shoes shined to a gleam. Cutting a lithe figure,

Joseph had a crooked nose that looked to have been broken one too many

times, and ear tips that might have belonged on a half-elf of fiction.

He had worked for Simon long before I came onto the scene, and was

unfailingly polite, efficient and helpful. Anyone standing next to him tended to

look underdressed, and it was he that prepared Simon’s clothes so that he

didn’t look like a walking trash can.

“What is it, Joseph?” Simon had already begun to pack away the pieces as if he

knew exactly what it was.

“You have a guest, Sir. Tamayo Judas.” It never failed to surprise me how deep

Joseph’s voice was. If I’d had to describe it then I would compare it to the soft

rumble of thunder. He needed only to put on a stern expression and raise his

voice slightly in order to intimate unruly visitors. Thankfully there was rarely a

need for it.

“Show him through.

“Yes, Sir.” Departing, Joseph closed the door with a gentle click, that told me he

had taken a hold of it carefully lest it throws itself shut on the breeze of wind

that rushed across the room.

At that moment Simon swept away the rest of the figures and swiftly collected

the cards into a neat little pile, shoving them towards me in haste.

“Hide them, quick.”

I did as he asked, and had barely returned to my seat when Mr. Judas was

shown inside.

A tall man, Mr. Judas had to duck beneath the doorway, a handheld atop his

head as if he were holding himself down. Despite his years in the country he still

spoke with a strong accent that blurred together his words in excitement, and

his soft eyes shone with friendliness when he was stood behind his shop

counter.

Today there seemed something different about him, as he strode across the

room towards the small table.

Simon straightened himself up immediately. “No gift today, Tamayo?”

Immediately I recognized what it was that had been bugging me. Mr. Judas was

a collator of information, and whenever he felt that he had something

important up his sleeve he would always drop by to sell it to us, a hopeful look

in his eye. What was more, he never failed to bring a gift with him, usually a tub

of coffee beans for Simon, or a new product that he thought we may like.

“No, Sir. What more can you expect from a man who has just lost his most

precious possession.”

Sensing a case, Simon leaned forwards in curiosity. I was sure that he did so

subconsciously because he always took care to maintain his posture in front of

clients. Gesturing to one of the spare seats, the ones reserved for visitors, he

suggested that Mr. Judas take a seat.

Mr. Judas shook his head, hands twisting around in front of him. Agitation

curled about him, seen in the way his body slightly vibrated, and his eyes

blinked rapidly. Whatever could have upset him so?

“I don’t see how I can, Sir. I’m much too wound up.

But you must.” Simon insisted. It didn’t do well to have clients pacing up and

down the office, not with Ms. August below us, who ran a small business

grooming pets. Fortunately, we had a set of stairs that lead straight up to the

second floor, making sure that our customers need not traipse through a fur

riddled mess.

While I was sure that Ms. August was a tidy and clean person, allergies didn’t

much care for even the lightest of messes. Dander, I think they called it.

Finally, Mr. Judas took a seat, hands folded up neatly in his lap.

Simon nodded in satisfaction. “Now then, tell me what the trouble is.”

“Where do I start? I suppose I should tell you what was stolen? It was a jewel,

the most beautiful jewel you have ever laid eyes on. It shone like the sun on the

ocean waves, and was a goodly size too.”

Immediately I could tell that we were going to take this case. Simon had that

look about him that said so, and in truth, we rarely turned anything down.

Especially not a case from a friend. Nothing was too big or too small for Simon

to handle, and while I would rather not spend my time searching for lost cats, or

trying to catch a spouse cheating, Simon was fond of saying that we shouldn’t

be picky in how we helped people.

“Tell me from the beginning. When did you receive this jewel, and from who?”

Nothing pleased him more than a complex mystery, and he would have

forgotten to eat (and to sleep) were it not for me and Joseph. More Joseph than

I, who could be just as bad once I was at the heart of a mystery. My favorites

were locked room mysteries, but alas those were found mostly in fiction and

not in real life.

In anticipation, I took out a notepad and pencil, which I always carried with me.

Just in case. Simon had a terrific memory, but mine was only average, and it was

more useful to have the information written down where I could find it than to

spend hours racking my brain for the thing that had been forgotten.

Mr. Judas licked his lips, nervously, fidgeting about in the seat. Doubtless, this

jewel was worth a lot of money.

“Yesterday, at about two o’clock in the afternoon, I received a package at my

store. I hadn’t been expecting anything, and the store was rather quiet, so I

decided to open it. Inside the first box was a second, and upon it was a note. Well, I’d only gone and forgotten my own birthday, which my friend in Africa

had remembered for me.”

How a fellow could forget his own birthday was beyond me, but Mr. Judas had

no family here, and despite his love of gathering information was actually rather

tight with anything to do with himself. I knew where he had come from, and a

little about his journey to this town, but beyond that, he was an enigma.

“I was shocked when I opened it, in all honesty. Such a thing…for me. At first, I

had thought to keep it, because a gift should be appreciated, and it was such a

cheerful looking jewel, but I very quickly made the decision that I should sell it.

I’ve been in a desperate need of money lately, with the opening of that big

supermarket around the corner, and I couldn’t see any other way to get the

money at all. But, I hadn’t completely sold the idea to myself, so I decided to

keep the jewel somewhere safe while I slept on the decision.”

Mr. Judas was talking far more than he usually would, and I put it down to the

nerves and stress of the situation.

“I have a very secure safe, one with a computerized mechanical lock, where I

keep my money for the shop. It is a very good safe, or at least that is what I

believed until today. This morning, maybe three o’clock – this is what I learned

from the police – somebody has broken into my store. But by the time they

arrived the thief was gone.

But I didn’t find all of that out until this morning when I went to the shop early

to relieve my assistant. I was shocked to find the police there, standing around a

broken window. I was very pleased to see that the safe was still locked, but

when I opened it up the jewel was gone!”

He paused, then added, “The strangest thing is that they left the money.”

“That is strange,” I said, unable to fathom why the thief would do that.

Kindness? Lack of time? Tempered greed?

Simon was quiet for a moment, absorbing the details of the case. Then he

nodded slowly as if he understood what the rest of us didn’t.

“A few questions, Tamayo.”

“Whatever you need, just please, help.”

“First of all, are you certain that you locked up the safe?