The apartment was exactly as he feared. It was a simple layout, only three rooms: a single bathroom; single bedroom with a two mattresses on the floor, pressed together, with a bunk bed on the side; and the kitchen/dining area, fitted with only a stove, a small fridge, and a single countertop next to the sink.

The kitchen was bare. There were no cupboards, all the dishware settled on the countertop, and the fridge was left with moldy cheese and a few beers. The family was poor, poorer than Jack thought possible in a city. Course, there were no homeless in Saddlebrook, though he’d seen them in other cities. Rain probably drowned them out.

He moved on to the bathroom, but there was nothing of value. A toilet and a bathtub, nothing else. The drains were checked, just to be sure, but Jack found only what he expected. Nothing. A thrilling case, it seemed.

The bedroom seemed just as lacking as the kitchen and the bathroom. There were only two blankets, both crumpled on top of the mattresses in the bunk bed, and the mattresses were stained and dirty, something that made Jack grateful he carried his gloves with him. He searched the obvious areas first, checking under the blankets and each corner of the room. He looked to the ceiling, which was high and solid. He’d hidden things in the ceiling himself, once upon a time, which was reason enough to check.

He moved on to the mattresses, lifting each and checking underneath. He wasn’t expecting much, but sure enough, there was a bag. Black and simple, it lacked even a drawstring. More than that, it lacked security altogether. He couldn’t judge them, though. The Marlows were a poor lot, and keeping their money under a bed most likely seemed like a good idea.

Seventeen dollars resided inside the black fabric, made from an assortment of bills and coins. A decent amount to have hidden away, but not much. Enough to cover rent or food, but not both. For a family like the Marlows it was all they could muster. A sad affair, then, that they were missing, and their money remained.

Jack sighed as he stared at the door, little black bag in hand. He slipped it into his coat pocket, then left. Down the hallway towards the stairway, on the right, was another hallway that lead to the landlord. Room 200. You’d never guess it was the landlords place, not unless you were told. It was the same as the rest, a green door with its number carved into its surface.

He knocked and waited, the door eventually opening to reveal the balding man who’d given him the key. “Ah, detective. Anything I can do for you?”

“Not unless you’ve got the Marlow family back there,” he joked, a quick smile forming on the landlords face. “No, just here to return the key, ask a few more questions.”

“By all means. Would you like to come in?”

“Won’t be long. Just need to ask if you heard anything suspicious around the 16th of April?”

The landlord pondered for a bit, a hand rubbing his chin. “I don’t believe I did, I’m afraid.”

“What about before then? Did they make any comments or seem any different? Any reason they might up and leave?”

“I don’t believe so. Joe was good enough, made sure to pay the rent on time. There were a few times when he didn’t have enough, but he’d always pay me the rest. Course he was gettin’ real skinny. Skipping meals, you know how it is.”

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

“All too well.”

“Yeah, real terrible, that. Have to be thankful for what happiness we’ve got, when we got it.”

“That we do. Is there anything else you can remember?”

“Nothing comes to mind. Sorry I can’t be of more help.”

“It’s fine. Would you happen to know if their neighbors are home right now, or when they might be in?”

“Oh sure. Well, they’ve only got the one neighbor, Ryan Mcdougal in 204. 202’s empty, you see. Anyway, I say Mr. Mcdougal come in a short while ago. Should be home.”

“Thank you, sir.” Jack handed the key over with a smile, the landlord returning it and then some.

He heard the door shut behind him as he made his way back, and as he arrived at the stairwell a man came down the hall from where he was headed. He was middle aged, skin tanned almost to leather, hair a mix of salt and pepper, the smell of sea wafting off of him.

He was a sailing fisherman, no doubt. If the smell didn’t give it away, the necklace would. A woman wrapped in a whirlwind of loose fabrics, all made in silver. Rosemary, goddess of the sea, protector of voyages.

“Excuse me, sir,” Jack called out. The man looked half surprised, but the other half looked tired. Sailing was a hard life. “Would you mind answer some questions about the Marlow’s?”

“I’ve got a bit of time, but I can’t take all day, I’m afraid.” His voice was guff, no doubt the workings of smoking and drinking for years on end.

“I’ll be quick. Did you know the Marlow’s?”

“Knew of them, sure. Only ever spoke to the parents, though, and none too often.”

“You think they’d have any reason to hightail it outta here?”

“Looking for better pastures would be my guess. Joe and his wife were startin’ to look pretty bony last I saw’em.”

“Alright. Now, did you hear or see anything suspicious between the 16th and 23rd of last month? That’s about when they went missing.”

“Nah, I was on boat from the 14th to the 20th.”

“What about those last three days? Anything then?”

“Nah, can’t say I remember anything. Apologies.”

“It’s no problem.” It was a last ditch, anyways. They’d most likely disappeared before then. “Thank you, though. Have a nice day.”

It was a bust. Another unsolved case to add to his list. The sailor seemed honest enough. So did the landlord. Of course, people lied. It was the way of things, keeping secrets where secrets were best unkept. Still, it seemed open and shut. Family down on its luck, poor to the point of starving and unemployed. Worse still, it was an honest family, making sure their due was paid. It wasn’t a wonder as to why they’d leave.

But they didn’t. Not unless it was in a hurry. A poor family doesn’t just up and leave without their money, except when they’ve got reason to. It wasn’t much to go on. Except, of course, that the Marlows didn’t officially leave any money behind. Could only be loan sharks, then. A family hightailing it after taking a big loan, along with all their valuables? Seems true enough. That’d leave him nothing else to do. Wasn’t his job to go out of the city or look into loan sharks. No sir, his job was done, and he was up seventeen dollars more than he’d thought.

Detective Notes

Current date: May 3rd.

Crime: Missing family. Reported April 23rd, possibly missing since April 16th.

Victims: Marlow Family. The father Joseph (42), mother Maylene (38), and two children, Sarah (13) and Charlie (8).

Address: 67 Broker St.

Additional Notes: No signs of struggle according to police. Neighbors might know more. Neighbor not present during prime disappearance window, reports no activity. No evidence found in apartment. Possibly borrowed from loan sharks and left town.