Mistaken Identity- A John Tang Mystery

Chapter 1

HI guys. I'm a new writer and this is my first story on wattpad. There will be more chapters to come, but in the meantime comments, votes and feedback would be appreciated. Thanks. Enjoy.

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Chapter 1 

Dr Simon Loshevik had a problem. He didn't usually have problems. He wasn't that type of guy. But right now a rather large problem was staring him in the face.

The problem came in the form of a man. Now don't get me wrong. Dr Loshevik had seen many men while practicing the medical profession. He saw all sorts of men. Fit middle- aged men, unfit middle- aged men, young men, old men and boys. He'd even seen naked men. But never in his entire career had he encountered a man in his mid-to-late forties sprawled across the desk with a knife in his back.

Dr Loshevik wasn't sure what to do. His first thought was to examine the body. His next was to call the police. His last was also to call the police, because it was at this moment that he fainted.

His secretary found him like that, still on the floor, when she came in with his mid -morning coffee and croissant.

She too saw the dead body sprawled across the desk, but unlike her employer she didn't lose her head.  Ms Grace Folcotter seldom if ever lost her head and she wasn't going to start now. When she did encounter someone who lost theirs, she gave them a strong brandy to bring them back and suggested they use a screwdriver next time, as the hammer and nail thing was getting rather old fashioned and also rather hurt.

This is exactly what she did with Dr Loshevik except minus the suggestion about the screwdriver.

When the Doctor was sitting upright and looking much more his usual self, Grace decided it was prudent to speak. "Um... Sir?," she asked tentatively, as she was still uncertain as to the Doctor's strength after his unpleasant turn. "Sir, shouldn't we- perhaps- call the police?"

The Doctor was gazing off into the distance, seemingly lost in another world, and for a moment Grace thought that he had not heard her. But then he seemed to rouse himself and come back into the real world. He looked once again at the body. A flash of white caught his eye, and he noticed for the first time a piece of paper in the hand of the dead man. He leaned forward and prised the paper out of the dead man's ice cold fingers. He held it to his eyes and read aloud. " 'Don't tell.' I wonder what that means. Maybe he doesn't want us to call the police. Maybe that's why he staggered in here. Someone stabbed him in a back alley. He staggered about a bit,saw this surgery and that I was a doctor and came in just managing to find my office before taking his last breath."

Grace nodded and then spoke. " Yes of course sir. Just one question. If this man staggered through the surgery, how come I didn't see him?"

The Doctor thought for a moment and then said, "You must have been somewhere else. Did you leave the front desk this morning?"

"Yes sir." Grace nodded. " I was making your mid- morning coffee and croissant, like always."

"See. Problem solved. Now, I need to think about what to do for a while."

Grace was a bit surprised by this. She thought they should just call the police, but she didn't say anything. She was too accustomed to her boss's eccentric thought processes.

Another coffee and croissant later, Dr Loshevik emerged, tired but happy. "I have decided to hand this case over to a private detective. It seems it was the dead man's wish that his death was not publicised or handed over to the police. However, I feel I cannot leave this mystery unsolved. I feel like I owe it to the dead man to at least hire a private detective if I cannot give him complete privacy."

Grace was so surprised that this time she could not contain herself. "But sir, are you sure you want to hire a private detective. It will cost you money and they will most likely be very expensive.'

"Yes," said the Doctor firmly. "I want to go through with this. Now, if only I knew where to find a private detective."

They both were silent for a moment and then Grace piped up. "Oh. Sir, I remember my friend Mary talking about a detective that helped clear her uncle of embezzlement charges. He's supposed to be very good. Should I call Mary and ask her about him?"

"Yes. Good idea," said the doctor.

One rather unnecessarily long phone call later, in which Mary chattered away while Grace tried to lead the conversation away from fancy restaurants Mary had been to recently and back onto the private detective that had helped her uncle, the secretary emerged with the number written on square of customized paper. She handed it to the Doctor, who was now looking good as new.

"John Tang,"  he muttered. "Sounds Asian. Always liked Asians. Very hard workers and very efficient. He sounds perfect. Well done Grace."

"Thank you sir." And on that note Ms  Grace Folcotter left her employers office.

Dr Loshevik stared at the piece of paper a while longer and then reached out a hand to the phone on his desk. He dialled the number, a strange mixture of excitement and fear welled up inside him. This event had disorganised his entire day, and if their was one thing Dr Loshevik hated it was disorganisation.