Charles Keen day had started just like any other. Wake up, brush teeth, change, get into his car, get coffee, and go into the office. A routine he had repeated for the last sixteen years of his life.
Working with Scotland Yard wasn’t as interesting as people would think. Most of his time was spent at the office trying to make sense of grim cases that were impossible. After all, this is real life. There’s rarely a eureka moment that solves a case and brings closure.
Scrolling through his computers, he began to read meaningless emails. With a heavy sigh, his attention shifted down to his desk. There were piles and piles of folders filled with morbid pictures.
As he was skimming case reports, he was interrupted by the usual mail-man. He heard the wheels on the cart rolling towards him that momentarily distracted him from the sadistic pictures in front of him.
“Is there a package for me?” he inquired.
“Yes, Mr. Keen,” the mail-man said respectfully. “A letter actually.”
Charles raised his eyebrow. “Who sends a letter nowadays?”
As he grabbed the white envelope from his cart, he looked at the name. “A Raoul from Paris, France.”
“France?” he questioned.
The mail-man shrugged his shoulders. “A new pen pal perhaps?”
“Do you really think someone in France wants to be pen pals with a detective?”
“Fair,” he responded before handing the envelope and walked away.
Charles examined the envelope with care. He tried to look for any clues that would relate to the identity of the unknown Raoul, but he couldn’t find any. Sitting back down, he opened the envelope and pulled out a small piece of paper.
Le cyanure est un mensonge. C'est un larcin.
He looked around the room anxiously. He was the only one in Scotland Yard that spoke French, so there was no doubt that the message was for him. However it was the contents that startled him.
“The cyanide is a lie?” he asked aloud to no one. Cyanide didn’t relate to any of the cases that he was working on. Furthermore, what did it mean by a lie? How can a gas be a lie?
His eyebrows furrowed as he thought about the message before him. The second part read It’s a robbery. No robbery cases that Scotland Yard was investigating used cyanide. Was this a troll? A prank mail?
But why would someone in France go through all the effort to send a letter for a prank? Especially one that was so serious. Something irked at Charles. This message was important for something. Something that was out of reach but was vastly approaching.
Charles looked up at the chief’s office. He was sitting on his chair filling out some paperwork. He looked around to see if anyone was going to meet him. Upon seeing no one sitting at the waiting room.
Standing up, he shuffled hesitantly and uncomfortably to the office. Knocking on the door, he entered the room.
“Do you need something Charles?” the chief asked after one quick glance up.
“Uh, yes sir. I received a strange letter today and I think it’s part of something bigger.”
In an almost mocking manner, he now directed his full attention to Charles. “A letter?” he asked while on the verge of laughter.
Charles handed the letter over to the chief. Seeing the simple message, he read it over twice before looking up.
“It says ‘The cyanide is a lie. It’s a robbery’”
“What is this referring to?” He thought that it was part of a case that Charles was working on.
“I don’t know,” he said. “But isn’t this something that we should look into?”
“You want to look into nothing based on a letter?” the chief asked in a condescending tone. However, this time, he began to laugh afterwards.
“It’s talking about a crime,” Charles defended himself somewhat quietly.
“Teenagers brag about committing crimes on the internet all the time. Should we dedicate our resources to pursuing small cases like those?”
“Cyanide is a huge biological hazard! It’s bigger than small cases like petty theft.”
The chief just chuckled. “Look Charles, the letter said that the cyanide is a lie right? So that means it isn’t real and can’t hurt anyone.”
“But what about the theft?”
“Look, I can’t justify using our resources on something as ridiculous as this,” he said in a more serious tone. “If you have some other evidence, then we can talk.”
“A-alright Chief,” Charles said embarrassingly. With a flushed face, he rose up and started to exit the door. As he placed his hand on the door handle, the Chief’s phone suddenly rang. The chief picked up the phone without looking away from the papers in front of him.
“I’m Agent Isaiah Cabrera with the Federal Bureau of Investigation for the United States,” the voice on the other end said. With a sense of fear and urgency, the chief looked away from his papers for the first time.
He looked at the phone and saw that it was a line that was meant for the Tower of England. “The US?” he asked. “What interest do you gentlemen have with the Tower of London?”
Charles stopped midway through his motion. While keeping his hand on the handle, he turned around and locked eyes with the chief. They both had questioning looks on their faces as they waited for what happened next.
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“We’ve been tracking a terrorist and just received highly credible intel that he’s in the Tower of London. There’s devices all around the Tower that are programmed to release cyanide in mere minutes. We’ve been able to confirm the varsity of these facts. Completely evacuate as soon as possible.”
His eyebrows furrowed in concern. “U–understood sir,” the officer answered. “What’s the terrorists’ name?”
“George Nottingham” the voice said before a ringing sound in the background could be heard. “Okay, I have to coordinate my task force, so I’m afraid I’ll have to leave you now. Make sure to call the Tower’s crisis line.”
The call ended there. Charles stared at the chief, waiting for him to say what had happened.
“The FBI called. Cyanide is going to be released in The Tower of London.”
“Cyanide?!” Charles exclaimed. “The letter! It’s a robbery!”
“We can’t be sure,” the chief said as he quickly rose from his seat and exited the room. He walked to the middle of all the desks in the station and cleared his throat before shouting.
“Attention officers, the FBI has called to inform us of a terrorist threat at the Tower of London. I need all our resources on this. At this moment, we’re not sure if it’s a robbery or a gas attack, but we need to treat it as the latter. If you have any questions, ask on the way. Let’s move!”
All officers frantically scrambled out of their desks and headed towards the exit. The dispatchers began to divert all police patrols to the Tower of London as well as beginning to evacuate it. Alarms blared throughout the city as all police converged into one location.
However, Scotland Yard wasn’t the only agency to be alerted. The Army Reserve was deployed. Although it would take around thirty minutes for it to reach its full capacity, the force would slowly trickle there. Everyone had one goal; to trap the person inside. All exits were being monitored.
“What’s going on?”
“Why are there so many police?”
Despite the perimeter being set up, crowds began to form to witness the spectacle. It was then that the chief had arrived to begin coordinating the intervention efforts. But, he wasn’t aware of one last surprise.
Flying up above all the crowds was a red blimp. As it flew over the people, it formed a shadow that blocked the bright sun. A cool sensation passed onto the people as the light from the sun passed. All eyes looked up.
The bottom began to open slowly. Small objects began to slowly fall and trickle from the blimp.
“What is that?”
“Is that-?”
Looking at the sky, anyone in London could see an odd spectacle. For raining from the sky was money! 1 and 5 US dollars were falling from the sky in massive troves.
Cheers filled the streets of London as people began to frantically collect all the money falling down. Although pounds were most commonly used in Britain, money was money. The United States Dollar is a respected currency throughout the world.
But falling from the sky were small cards. These cards were glanced at by few and ignored by many, but while the chief was coordinating efforts, Charles collected one from the ground. On it were raining down Joker cards.
“Chief!” he called as he held his eyes on the card. He ran quickly sprinted over to the chief, weaving through the rioting crowd. It took him a precious minute to find it. “Chief!”
“Yes Charles?” he angrily snapped. Charles flipped him the card as bills rained all around them. The chief took the card eagerly and read it before displaying it to the team.
“Alright, listen here gentlemen,” he yelled out to get everyone's attention through the loud crowd. “This bastard is taunting us! He’s not a bioterrorist but a robber! We’re going in right now.”
He took out his walkie-talkie. “Listen, this is the captain speaking. Disperse this crowd as soon as possible for us to enter.”
“Sir! It’s too chaotic. It’ll take three, maybe five minutes for them to be dispersed. Especially since it’s raining money, they won’t stop collecting it.”
“We have to do something! The person in there could be stealing god knows how much of the Crown Jewels! The pride of our nation!”
“U-understood sir!” The Army Reserve surrounding the Tower of London began to move closer to the crowd before launching smoke and tear gas. They were careful to avoid the area at which most of the police force were.
Slowly but surely, the crowd began to disperse. But it had cost them valuable time that made it that much harder to catch the thief. At that time, the police force had adequately assembled at the entrance of the Tower of London.
“We’re heading to the Waterloo Barracks in the White Tower,” the chief informed everyone. “Understood?”
“Hmph,” a lot of people sounded out while nodding their heads. “The Reserve says there's no signs of cyanide gas. You are authorized to use lethal force, but refrain from doing so unless necessary. He needs to be questioned.“
Another round of nods and sounds of agreement passed. “Alright let’s go!”
The chief led everyone as he sprinted into the Tower of London, possibly at the highest speed he has ever run in his life. The Reserve opened the door for Scotland Yard as they entered.
“Something about this doesn’t seem right,” Charles said as they navigated through the complex networks of hallways. “Why would that letter get sent? Why tell us that it's a robbery? It doesn’t add up.”
“Seriously? You’re concerned about the why and not the who or what?” the chief asked back. “He’s taking the crown of the king and god knows what else.”
Charles wanted to say something, but thought it was best to not question his superior any longer. The chief was right about one thing: there seemed to be a bigger issue.
Taking one last turn, they kept on moving forward until they arrived at a door in the middle of the hallway. When they tried to turn the handle, it didn’t move. Stepping back, one of the officers carrying an enforcer stepped forward. Holding it back and turning his hips, he gave one hard push as he rotated his hips. As soon as it collided with the door, there was a loud thud as it began to fall.
As the door fell, it revealed a shorter network of hallways. “God, how many of these are there?” the chief uttered in annoyance.
They continued to sprint through the hallway until, at long last, they had arrived at the Waterloo Barracks. Turning the handle, they saw that the door was still locked. They hesitantly looked at each other
‘Why would the door be locked?’ A thought that I presumed passed through all their minds. This door would be harder to breach than the other.
The person carrying the enforcer stepped forward once again and struck the door. It didn’t budge. The door was made of a material designed to withstand high impact from robbers. It took five attempts before the door finally gave way.
Once the door revealed the room, all jaws dropped. Eyes widened as they surveyed the destruction that had taken place in the room. Glass shards littered the floor around several different display cases. One display, however, caught their attention. It was surrounded by three different objects.
“The Koh-I-Noor diamond,” Charles said in a quiet and shocked voice. “It’s gone!”
All eyes turned to the empty display case. Where a marvelous diamond should’ve been was a Joker card. With its smiling face and jovial dance, they all knew it served one purpose. To taunt them even further.
Everyone then looked around the room for any signs of the thief. Every inch of the room was under scrutiny as several pairs of eyes surveyed each part.
“Where the fuck did they go?!” the chief yelled out. “Look for him now!”
People started to run out of the halls and spread out in the room as they tried to look for any clues that could've led them to the thief.
Charles, walking to a corner of the room, noticed an odd piece of paper. “Chief!” he called out.
The chief walked over as Charles handed him the piece of paper that was on the floor. “It’s a receipt,” Charles said.
“Fuck! That’s how he’s planning on getting away!” The chief exclaimed as he took out his walkie-talkie. “Army Reserve, this is the chief of Scotland Yard. Ground all London Gatwick flights and screen every passenger that arrives! The thief is escaping in an airplane!”
“Are you sure? We don't have the resources to spare.”
“A partially ripped receipt for United Airlines was found for this date,” the chief replied. “The thief made a mistake.”
Suddenly, cutting through the tense atmosphere, was the sound of a walkie-talkie.
“This is Officer Gerard Dunn! Suspect has been spotted running west of the room!”