The Last Hunt

I

  Hmm...this fresh mountain air! Its way better than the polluted air from the big cities! I almost dont miss London at all! A little break from my usual work in England is well deserved.
  My last case was not that intriguing, unfortunelly. Keeping your "little grey cells" busy, how my favourite book character says, its important.
  A man slashed his friend's throat with a switch-blade, then mauled his face, leaving it there, in the flesh, and its handle had the man's fingerprints and initials. Hm, he didn't think it very wise, now did he?
  Anyway, l came here to enjoy the surroundings. It's my first time in Romania. The Carpathians surelly are stunning. I am sorry my fiance couldn't join me. She had a trial back home. A robbery, involving a local gang.
  She would have loved the place! Now here is where we will go on our honeymoon. The people are very friendly, the food is delicious, the landscapes are delightful!
  I am staying here, at a hotel in the mountains. Its theme is hunting. On the halls, there are a lot of european mounts, like chamois, red deer and roe deer skulls, as well as their antlers and horns only, stuffed birds, like the beautiful cappercaille and a few mallards and some game heads, of the big game l mentioned earlier. In the restaurant you can take your breakfast in front of a majestic male cappercaille looking at you. There is something above every table. Antlers, stuffed birs, game heads and other such. On the big wall there, you can see two wild boar skins, placed side by side of a giant brown bear rug.
This is really interesting! Don't get me wrong, l am not loving killing and death. I support hunting 'cause...well, you gotta eat, don't you? I don't like hunting furbearers, on the other hand. Taking something's life so you could wear something beautiful, now that is cruel.
Plus, if you think a bit, eating wild game is more ethical than farmed animals. What is better? Living a life in the nature, breathing the fresh air, eating natural foods you forage and having hundreds of acres at your disposal, or living a short life in a crowded, loud, unnatural farm, where you got two square meters to turn around and be fed pellets and different medicines to assure you dont get sick and grow very fast so the people can make profit?
  With that being said, l sit at the table and take a menu. What we got here? Hmm...l think l will go with the barbecued venison, a cabbage salad and for for dessert, a few slices of what Romanians call "cozonac". As a beverage, l will choose a local drink called "vișinată". Its made out of sour cheeries, alcohol and sugar. Now this is what l call a lunch! Where is that waiter, though?
  While l am waiting for the boy to come and pick my order, a short middle aged man, bald, with a not-so-well shaved beard walks in and comes towards my table.
-Detective Charles Trapper?
-Well, yes. Who is asking?
-Officer Ionescu. Nice to meet you! he said taking his badge out.
-So what do you want, officer, and, if l may, how do you know me?
-Oh sorry! I got in touch with your collegue in London long time ago, and now he said you are in Romania. We really need your help, as we know you are one of the greatest detectives these days.
-Oh, l will be honored to help you!
  I am lying, by the way. I am here on vacation! Damn Huxley! Hmm.... But there is something inside me that doesn't let me stay cold when a murder takes place... l gotta solve it, no matter what!
-Ah! Wonderful! Come, we gotta hurry!
-But...my...hey! What about my lunch?
-No time! says him rushing towards the door
  Right when l want to get up and go, a young waitress comes at me asking what can she do for me. You can imagine how badly l got triggered. But l can control myself.
-Actually, miss, l have to leave. Maybe for supper!
  I take my hat and coat, and leave the restaurant to see what case l got this time on my head. But, damn, l want that venison!