Spyglass Mysteries: #2 Shadows Under The Cityscape

Report 1: Reflection

Thursday, November 2th

2:00 pm. Afternoon

The weatherman reported scattered showers all day. You could say it fits the mood of where we were. Mike wanted us to visit him again. It had been at least three months from our grand case. The one that put Spyglass back on the map. We had just finished up another case. This one was small, as was a lot of the case work brought our way recently. I figured the police were still testing the waters with us. Wanted to see if we could fish up the big ones. Sorry, I seem to say a lot of fishing analogies. It's just something from my past. Haven't had much of a chance to go out onto the waters since then. Don't think I ever will...

We strolled through the Upper City Memorial Cemetery. It had been years since we first came here. Which became the last place, Slue would stand as a group, two years ago. A small tree hung over peacefully over the expanse of plaques and grave markers scattered in beside us, as we walked by. The group stopped in front of a singular grave on the side of a hill. A small tree hung over peacefully over the expanse of plaques and grave markers scattered in front of us. The words, Alex Wave, Beloved brother and member of Slue Private Investigators, were etched into the stone. Jeremy was holding the large dark purple umbrella we brought along. Mike stepped out into the light rain, holding a small flower pot that he brought with him. His dress suit was getting damp from the light rain drizzle.

"Hey... it's me again," said Mike, "I... seem to have an issue with keep these things alive. So I thought you should have them. We just stopped by to say, we did it. Another case solved. You were... a lot better at this crime solving stuff than us... But, I guess we have to start pulling our share from now on. Sorry again for renaming it. I... uh... kind of figured-"

A flash of lightening strike across the sky. Followed by the cry of thunder echoing throughout the cemetery. The light rain turned into a down pour. I pulled my cell phone out to check the time. It was getting close to our appointed court hearing. I stepped out to confront Mike about our shortened time limit. But, Logan held me back by holding his arm in front of me. Mike noticed this and continued.

"Y-ye-yeah," stuttered Mike, "We uh... have to get going. One of those scheduled hearings for... ye-yeah."

"You did alright, Mike," I said, patting him on the shoulder.

"I was never good at funerals. After my parents, you know. It kind of gets old."

"Well, we better get going," stated Logan, "You can only miss so many hearings before they'll throw you in jail."

"We still have a bit of time," I said, Looking over at Jeremy, "You alright, Jeremy?"

"Huh?!" said Jeremy, wiping the raindrop from behind his glasses, "Yeah, I'm fine. The rain must have got through my glasses."

We all grouped up back underneath the umbrella. Heading straight back to the car. Jeremy reached into his pocket and pulled out his keys. Logan took the passenger seat and I was placed in the back with Mike. The car ignition started and we were off to the court house. Every so often, the court would bring up regards to the handling of the detective agency. Which in turn was Alex's willed possessions. We may have earned our rights to being detectives again. With our own Private Investigation license. But, it seems they want to poke at every little detail that they can. This has been ongoing for a while. At this point, it's all for show. Just to make some chairman or archive happy with a copy and pasted papers about nothing. I just wish they would stop making Mike the only person affected by this. We all are a part of this group. But, they always make him stand to take the blows and we just have to sit there in our fake suits. Just watching... as he is reminded that he isn't a detective like his brother was. The car pulled into the parking lot of the court house. We were running a bit late. The storm was slowing traffic on the way here. After Jeremy pocketed the car keys into his suit jacket. We headed inside the court house. As we entered the court room, the Judge waved for us to take our seats. The place looked about like any old court room would. White painted walls. A light wooden interior molded around the Judge's seat and the witness stand. Rows of pews sat behind a wooden fence. Mike tried to slip into the seat next to us. But, the bailiff pulled him aside and lead him up to the stand. Alone.