introduction

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.

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