WHO?


Faded footsteps in the dark corridor, then a few muffled whispers, the nod of the boss’s head, the handshake of agreement. A door slamming shut, and silence. Just pure, empty silence. This was just the way Jake liked it.

Jake was the boss, of the “N.Y.T.”. He was a middle-aged man of average height, and slightly baldish on top of his round, shiny head. To Jake’s annoyance, he had a rather pot-bellied stomach, that liked to bulge through his shirt, and one could distinctively spot the shape through his recently ironed blazer. He stood up, and lazily made himself a mug of steaming, freshly ground coffee, then settled down on his ‘leather-cushioned’ chair, gazed around at his newly refurbished office, and was pulled into a strong, peaceful lull.

Suddenly, a strong powerful, fiery bullet shot through the air, grazed a surprised and innocent Sally, and soared through the newly washed glass, shattering it into thousands of pieces. At this point, Jake, who had been having a bad dream where all his colleagues were complaining about their salaries, woke up with a jump, and just about managed to ring the police, in such a panicky flurry that his hands and body were shaking like a leaf. This could have been expected, but this was not what was supposed to happen.



Meanwhile, Sally Mulber, a stylish teenager, with long glossy blonde hair, and sparkling blue eyes, and a slim figure to die for, had been walking Sassy, her Yorkshire Terrier, when she heard a commotion at the Corner Café. Sally, being nosy and curious like all teenage girls, decided to go and investigate. She just so happened to climb a shiny flight of stairs, reached the top, and suddenly felt a sharp pang of agonizing pain. Sassy yelped, and Sally shrieked as she dropped to the ground with a thud, barely missing the poor ‘Yorkie’ by just millimetres.

The police arrived within minutes after being called, by a rather irritating gentleman, who didn’t have a very gentle personality at all. The man, or ‘baah-s” as he had referred to himself, had been in such a hysterical state, that it was quite impossible to understand a single word that he had said. It was only until Sergeant Boris had assured the ‘baah-s’ that he would send his finest team of policemen, that the man put down the phone (and rather rudely, too). Boris had scarcely put on his hat, when he had received yet another phone call. This one being from a terrorized couple who had just sworn that a little girl had been shot dead in the head by a stray bullet. This was very uncommon in New York, but amazingly the two incidents corresponded with each other. “This is going to be a long and complicated day,” Sergeant Boris thought to himself, wearily.

Slowly, Sally opened her eyelids. All she could see was a sheet of whiteness, like snow. She was in a hospital; that was all she could see. The minute the nurse saw that Sally’s eyes were open, she knelt down beside her bed, and asked gently, but suspiciously,
“ My dear, are you alright?”
Sally did not reply, but instead said,
“Sassy?”
“Your dog is quite alright, my dear. Utterly confused, and a little shocked, but nothing serious. How do you feel?”
Until that moment, Sally had no idea why she was in the hospital, but in a flash, regained her memory. She looked down at herself, and screamed in horror,
“My nail’s broken! Oh, my arm is in excruciating pain!”

At this moment, in walked Sergeant Boris, and Jake. They both winced when they saw her, and tried to avoid eye contact with Sally. Boris whispered carefully,
“When you are have recovered from the painkillers, we would like to interview you.”
Sally was pleased, but greatly afraid at the same time. Jake walked up to her, placed his hand on top of her arm, and said sensitively,
“This is not the way it should have been. I am really very sorry.”
Sally was beginning to think she was in a nightmare. Who were these people? Why did the one in the blazer with the bulging stomach, that seemed vaguely familiar, say he was sorry? She was so bewildered, that she just collapsed against the back of the bed, and fell into a restless slumber. The boss and sergeant glanced at each other with despondency in their eyes, sighed, shrugged and left. They would have to try again later.

Sally thought that she was dreaming when she felt a wet rough tongue licking her nose. She opened her eyes, and stared straight into Sassy’s eyes.
“Sassy!” she yelled, overwhelmed with happiness, she looked up into Jake’s kind face.
“We need to get you under cover, girl. You are not safe out in these streets. Danger lurks everywhere, and you never know when you might get caught. You were lucky that you survived; that bullet was meant for you- to kill you. This might sound like rubbish, but believe me my girl, you need help.”
Sally nodded, her fearful eyes wide as saucers, and responded,
“I’ll do anything, sir. Why do they want me dead? I haven’t done anything wrong…”
“I have many questions, but can provide no answers right now, my niece. Take care, I have to go…”
With that, Jake disappeared from Sally’s life- forever.

It ends the same, a little differently though, a mystery for you to solve:
Faded footsteps in the dark corridor, then a few muffled whispers; the nod of the colleague’s head, the handshake of agreement. A door slamming shut, and silence. Only it wasn’t silence, it was noise that you just couldn’t hear.
In the beginning, whilst the “routine”, a teaspoon of “sleeping powder” was put into the freshly ground coffee. The commotion had been easy to make, all set up, made extra loud and violent for curious Sally to hear.
All we have is one clue: Jake was Sally’s great uncle, who had moved to New York to protect her from evil and danger.
Only it went like it wasn’t supposed to go. Someone had pulled the trigger; the question is,
“Who?”