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“Three murders, all of which has left the new Prime Minister, John Red baffled…” The announcer droned on.
The cold spring air reflected my mood as I stared around the apartment of my dear friend, the great detective Dr. Edward Wilson. His library filled with books and his table with flowers on it made me cry as I sat there with the thought on my mind.
“What is the matter, my dear?” My good friend asked.
My mouth opened and the flood of emotions burst out in a couple words.
“I leave for college tomorrow.” I spoke.
The hurt of the words stuck into my friend like a sword. But within the time that I saw the emotions hit him, he was smiling.
“Don’t worry,” He said, “We all have our leaves. For example, that man who the news reporters are calling the Red Death, he had better leave London before the guard catches him.”
“I know,” I stated, “I just wish that you and I could solve one last mystery…like the Red Death.”
He shook his head.
“Oh, no,” He cautiously stated, “I do like to hunt a good serial Killer here and there but the Red Death is someone who is cunning and has at least one step ahead of the law, I can’t interfere with such talent.”
“But you solved the mystery of my disappearance, the art robbers, and the murders belonging to the Black Fang! You surely could have solve this one!”
He shook his head.
“No,” He said at last, “I once came face to a serial Killer and I thought that I could handle him but…”
“…he killed my family and got away.”
“What was his name?”
He looked at me with a stern expression.
“The Red Death.” He said at last, “He killed my family. My brother and my sister along with my mother and father…he even killed my fiancée, Michele.”
The tears that had dried up were now pouring out of my eyes again as I watched Edward walk over to the table and pick up a blue poppy.
“She like Poppies,” He said, “and apparently he (The Red Death) liked her.”
“That’s terrible!” I gasped.
“That’s why I can’t get involved, not until he makes the first move.”
“What about me?”
“I think that you’re safe. You are going to college far away from London are you not?”
“Yes, I am going to the University of Dublin.”
“Good, once you get there…just drop your old identity and maybe even change your name if you have to. Do whatever you can but do not associate yourself with me. And if I have to come to Dublin and you see me, don’t say anything to me.”
I nodded. Smiling, he walked over and gave me a hug. Warmness filed my heart as I looked at him. Then, turning away, I walked out of the door…leaving my friend behind.
Edward Wilson looked at the table, next to the vase of flowers laid a note that read:
YOU’RE NEXT, WILSON