Dralon and The Adventure in the Contrary World (English version)

A Bitter Awakening

"Inspector?" said a voice that seemed to be coming from a galaxy millions of light-years away. "Inspector, can you hear me?"

Biddle lay unconscious, his forehead pressed on the desk and his hand tightened around the handle of his coffee cup.

"Inspector?" Agent Higgings shook him by the shoulder. "Inspector?"

"Groah!" he finally managed to moan.

"Bad night, eh?"

"Hmm," he confirmed, keeping his head low on the desk – a position he had just decided to adopt for the rest of his life.

"Come on, inspector, we don't have much time!" said Higgings, helping him to get up.

Biddle looked awful. He could barely stand up. His glasses were hanging by the shaft from his ear, his shirt was untucked, his tie was loose, his hair was in uprising and two paper clips were stuck on his forehead. The unimpeachable inspector Horatio Anicet Biddle, immortalized – smiling and proud – in the photos hanging in his office next to worldwide celebrities, seemed to be unavailable at that time.

"Wh-where am I?" he asked, staggering.

"You're in the office, sir," replied the agent, filling a cup of hot coffee and handing it to him. "Here, this will help you to get over it."

"In my office, you say?" He frowned, trying hard to remember something about the previous night. He gave up almost immediately. It was too difficult. "What time is it?" he asked, moving his hand across his face.

"It's already late morning, Inspector," the agent replied, while helping him to put on his jacket and placing a binder in his free hand. "You must have been working late last night."

"Really?" he replied, confused. "I just remember I had a very strange dream..." he confessed, after taking a sip of the awful coffee. "I was in someone's house and there was a lamp on a carpet. I tried to lift it but I couldn't, and then... then I don't remember anything. Only fog."

"It was just a nightmare, Inspector. There's no need to worry," Higgings comforted him. "This case is putting us under pressure."

"Still, it was so darn vivid," said Biddle, dazed.

"Wow! It's very late!" exclaimed the agent, looking at his watch. "Secretary Ferguson has been waiting for almost half an hour in the meeting room."

"The Secretary of State?" Biddle asked, amazed. "What in the world is he doing here?"

"He's here to find out about the progress of the case and – I'm afraid – to reaffirm the disastrous consequences of failure!" said the agent, nervously waving his hand to encourage Biddle to leave the room.

Biddle followed him along the corridor leading to the conference room, avoiding his pitiful reflection on the windows.

"Hey, Higgings!" shouted a policeman sitting at a desk, "They just left this for you." He then leaned his chair to throw a yellow folder.

The agent raised his hand in thanks and flipped through the pages while walking.

"Take a look here, sir!" he said, showing a portion of the report to Biddle.

The inspector read and reread very carefully.

"Of course it could just be a coincidence," said the agent.

"Hmm... it sure could," replied the inspector, not entirely convinced. "It's too bad that I don't believe in chance." He then took the folder from the agent's hands and went running toward the exit.