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FBI Special Agent Jack Stewart threw the file on the table and muttered loudly, “A real tough nut to crack”.
“No wonder police failed to solve this baby,” his partner Sam Nolton whistled.
The two agents were exhausted after their night’s work on a case assigned to them by the Director; this case was a peculiar and strange one. It consisted of a mysterious chain of thefts and larceny all over the city: numerous shops, offices, houses and banks. There was just one eyewitness, Ms. Serena Riker, who has seen a person dressed in black clothes, in a store, putting all the jewellery in a bag and then vanishing into thin air. Initially Police thought she had gone nuts, but they soon had to change their mind. At every crime-scene, no doors or windows had been opened. The stolen items had just disappeared.
Recently, they got two videos, which the security cameras at the bank, has captured. Jack picked up the cassettes and played them. In both a man, clothed in black garb and a mask, had just appeared, opened the lockers, put the money in a bag, pushed a button on his belt and was gone. However, in the second video blue lines appeared on the screen for a moment as he appeared and disappeared. They replayed the video for nearly ten times.
“What was the model of the first camera?” Sam asked.
“C – 1497,” Jack checked a note pad.
“And the second one?”
“C – 1501”
“I see,” Sam thought for a while. “Look. The first camera is an older model, while the second camera is a newer one”.
“So?”
“The model C – 1501 has an included feature which detects electromagnetic waves because of the introduction of a new weapon which uses EM waves.”
There was a pause as they digested this information.
“And this camera detected EM waves as he appeared and disappeared,” Jack continued what Sam was telling.
“I know its awkward but the only conclusion it makes is that he somehow managed to convert himself into EM waves, traveled to the crime scene at the speed of light and successfully transformed himself into his original form, grabbed the money and left in the same way,” Sam expressed his thoughts.
Both had spent some time as research scientists before they joined the FBI. This had helped them a lot in their careers and was apparently, going to provide aid in this one too.
“This rings a bell in my mind. If I remember correctly, Professor Carl Parkinson is working on the same topic. I think I read it in the ‘Scientific Journal’”, Jack used his extensive knowledge.
Sam nodded and typed on the computer on his table. He studied the monitor for a while and confirmed, “Yes, you are right. Mind if we give him a call”.
“Of course not,” Jack smiled.
He picked up the receiver and dialled a number. A secretary picked up on the other side. Sam asked for Prof. Parkinson and was told to wait.
“Yes”, a grave voice came.
“Professor Parkinson?”
“That’s me,”
“I am FBI Special Agent Sam Nolton. I wanted to ask a few questions about your research work. Can we meet?
“Well, I’m too busy today but we can meet tomorrow. Unfortunately, the research has been halted because of a major flaw in my hypothesis”.
“Thank you”
The next day Prof. Parkinson was found murdered in his bed.
Jack and Sam entered the sealed office of Carl Parkinson.
“Do you think this murder was pure coincidence?” Sam asked.
“I don’t believe in coincidences.” Jack replied.
Another odd burglary had taken place the night before and the press was raising hell – they could feel the pressure.
They checked the computer. Every file in it has been deleted, except one: AND. It contained nothing.
“And?” Sam muttered. “What kind of a stupid name is that?”
“I don’t think its ‘and’ it’s probably ‘A.N.D.’ some kind of an abbreviation, I guess”.
“Maybe.”
After some work they found out that Professor had used a certain program to ensure that nobody could delete that file. However, someone had managed to erase all the contents, obviously the same someone (or an accomplice) had murdered Parkinson.
As they checked the office records they found out that all trace of research had vanished. The secretary, who had received the call, was also nowhere to be found. However, one fact interested them: Professor’s assistant, Dean Hardy, had also disappeared two months ago.
After some more investigation, they made another theory: Dean had somehow copied all the research work, corrected the flaw and decided to use it to his benefit. They now had a suspect.
That afternoon, the two crime-fighters were sitting in a cafeteria, waiting for their coffee. “I am still thinking about that file name, ‘and’ or ‘A.N.D.’ as you think. Surely it must mean something important and relevant to the case,” Sam spoke aloud.
“I know, but my computer needs some fuel,” Jack replied, pointing at his head.
Sam emanated a slight laughter. At that moment waiter arrived with their coffee.
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Awais Aftab
Writing has been a passion, a love ever since I learned to write. For me, writing is a means of expression of 'secret tears and secret pleasures'. True writing comes from the heart and often it is the one to find you, not you the one to find it. Writing gives me power, the strength to carry on, the will to live and to live in a better way. It helps me find deeper meaning in the world around me and to understand myself much better. I can't survive without writing. For me, my writings are the whispers of life, in which the glory and sorrow of life echoes. For me, these are the glittering tears, whose every flash encompasses a thousand aspects of life. I believe that, 'I write; therefore I am.' However, true ease in writing comes from art, and I still have to learn a lot about that.
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