Lady Of Shalott  

   An interesting twist on the trail of crime and punishment

Brad Steele was distraught at that time. He was not getting shelter even in intoxication. He was sitting on the counter in the hotel bar with his head bowed. He had a glass of whiskey in his hand.

But today he was feeling a big flaw in his quality, that he did not get intoxicated even after drinking a lot.

Today he wanted to get drunk, wanted to be a stranger to himself but his senses were intact. He can't get over the fact that he's come to town to solve a case and that his friend, Jack Newton, has already fallen victim to the case, losing his life trying to solve it. 

 Brad Steele was realizing that, in this case, now it is his turn. This feeling shattered his nerves.

Jack Newton was staying at this hotel, but he was found dead on Beacon Street, not far from here. His neck was broken. Shortly before his death, perhaps while listening to a phone call, he wrote on a small writing pad to note down messages. "Tennyson was crazy." Those were Jack Newton's last words, which were brought to the knowledge of the police and Brad Steele. No one could understand why Jack Newton had declared a famous late poet crazy.

The town was called Watertown and Brad Steele came here from Chicago. He belonged to a famous detective agency in Chicago. Geras, a very wealthy man from Watertown, hired the agency. One of his wife's most expensive brooches, studded with diamonds worth millions of dollars, was stolen.

In order to find and recover the brooch, Geras contacted the detective agency and the agency sent one of its most brilliant detectives, Jack Newton, to Watertown, but a few days later, news of his death came.

 Brad Steele was then sent for, who was sitting in the hotel bar at the time, heartily berating the city, his client, and the situation. Again and again, he wished he could go back to Chicago immediately.

It had been a week since he'd been in Watertown and he still hadn't figured anything out. He knew the agency would not be happy with his performance.

He guessed that Jack must have sat in this bar and drank often. He was very fond of drinking. He was also sure that if Jack had seen a beautiful woman here, he must have tried to make acquaintance with her. This was also a special hobby of his and he usually got success in this regard. It came from the skill of increasing the connection with the good ones.

 In fact, this is what Brad was sitting at the bar thinking about. He believed that this was where the clue to Jack's death might come from. With a drink in front of him, he was waiting even today. He took a sip and looked around. Suddenly he saw a girl walking towards the bar.

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"A Double Martini". She approached the counter and ordered the bartender. Brad examined her head to toe. 

She was tall and beautiful. She was one of those girls who, from any angle, made the heart beat faster. She poured the martini down her throat with great haste.

"How's it going, Tony?" The bartender asked the girl in a friendly tone.

"It's going well." The girl replied rudely.

"Make another one, Kirk."

Kirk seemed talkative, at least in this girl's case. He said while preparing a drink for her.

"I suppose nothing has been found out about that friend of yours, who was killed a few days ago?"

Brad's ears perked up. Before the girl could give any answer, he said leaning forward.

"What is this story? Did someone pass out after drinking too much and fell somewhere and broke his neck?"

"No." Kirk shook his head in the negative. The man stayed at the same hotel but was found dead one night on Beacon Street. His neck was broken. He was a good man! He often offered drinks to Tony.

"No problem. Now you can serve Tony the drinks for me, Kirk!" Brad spoke immediately.

 The girl looked at Brad and smiled sarcastically.

"I'm not trying to be free. It's just a friendly gesture." Brad said quickly.

Then the girl looked at him again and spoke

"If you don't misunderstand me, that's fine."

  Then, at Brad's request, she introduces herself, saying that her full name is Tony Shalott and that she is a gambling table operator at a club on the same street. Today is her holiday night. After a few minutes of talking here and there.

 Brad asked her once again what was the story of the dead man's broken neck.

   "He also stayed in the same hotel as you," Tony said.

"He was often seen sitting here at the bar. He bought me drinks a few times and took me out to eat twice. That's how we became friends.”

The presence of a beautiful girl and the sense of an unknown danger had removed the slight tinge that was overshadowing Brad's senses. He was completely awake inside. He was convinced that the girl's meeting with him was not a coincidence. 

Brad did not tell her that he was staying at the same hotel. But she said fluently while mentioning Jack Newton... He was also staying in the same hotel as you. It was clear that the girl was sent here for a special purpose.

Brad was ready to fall into her trap. Now he could take every risk to find the missing links.

"Would you like to have dinner with me somewhere tonight?" Brad asked. 

He was not at all surprised when the girl gladly accepted his offer. Of course, it was up to her to get Brad somewhere. 

The next moment Brad's idea was confirmed when the girl suggested that they should have dinner at Moriel's club where she worked. What could Brad object to?

Leaving Tony there, he excused himself and went upstairs to get his coat from the hotel room. He was leaving the room with his coat when he remembered something important. Jack Newton, his friend, was a hard-hearted and unemotional man. 

The profession of detective required such a temperament, but inside he was a romantic and possessed a poetic temperament. He once told Brad that when he's drunk, he remembers the works of poets a bit more, and if he has pen and paper in his hand, he impulsively starts writing beautiful stanzas.

Brad remembered that Tennyson had written a poem in praise of the beauty of a woman. 

The woman he referred to as the 'lady of Shalott' and the girl Brad met today was Toni Shalott. When Jack Newton wrote this sentence on a small writing pad.

 'Tennyson was mad...' At that time he must have been talking to Tony Shalott on the phone.

  Jack must have felt this Tony Shalott, something much higher than the Lady of Shalott.

That's what happens in love and drunkenness. Then he must have thought Tennyson was crazy. Who accidentally wrote such a great poem in honor of which woman?

Fixing the knot of the tie, he smiled dejectedly. He was trying to imagine how much pain a person would feel when his neck was broken. If he hadn't proved himself smarter than Jack Newton, he might have been destined for a broken neck.

As he came down, Tony got up to walk with him. As they started to leave, the bartender suddenly remembered something and spoke loudly to the crowd.

"Oh yes... Tony! The Strangler came looking for you a while ago."

Strangler, of course, was not a name, it could have been a nickname, and no doubt a very strange one, for it meant a man who strangles.

  Brad said as they came out of the bar. "Your friend has a very strange name!"

"Strangler isn't my friend, he's my stepbrother. People who know him jokingly call him that. He's a professional wrestler and works at Moriel's club. He's a bouncer." Tony said.

Gambling in clubs was also played through a game in which a weighted ball was rolled to knock down objects placed in order. Its operators, known as bouncers, were usually physically fit, but they were usually not just bouncers. Brad thought of Jack Newton's broken neck. 

A professional wrestler could easily break someone's neck. His nerves tensed for a moment. He was surely heading towards an important clue.

Then he remembered what his client, Geras, had said when he commissioned the work.

Geras was a fat man. The flesh of his jaws was hanging. He said while narrating his baptism.

"That night I was invited to a huge party at a club. I went out with a few people for a walk around town. My wife's expensive brooch was in my pocket. One of its joints was coming loose.

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  My wife gave it to me to take to the jeweler for repair. It is shaped like a small bouquet of flowers and is studded with many diamonds. That night someone stole that brooch from my pocket and I want to find it but quietly and secretly. I don't want my wife to know that I was drunk that night and that's why I lost the brooch."

His fear was justified. According to Brad's information, Geras' entire fortune was owed to his wife. She was from a very big industrialist family.

Geras was now the vice president of the large company his wife had inherited, which operated two large factories in Watertown. 

Geras' own family background was not special. Obviously, it was not surprising for such a husband to be afraid of his wife.

In these circumstances, being lean and fat also becomes pointless. Geras was once the best player of the state football team, but since then he has been fond of alcohol and girls. Even now he certainly never misses an opportunity to fulfill his passion.

 He had made the detective agency's job difficult because he was unwilling to name the club where he had attended the party, but now it was becoming possible for Brad to guess.

 There was no doubt that it had been Muriel's own club, the brooch, stolen by Tony and given to his wrestler brother. As if going to the Moriel Club could be interesting.

Arriving there, Brad found out that it was a big fancy club. They ordered drinks and food but left to dance before the items arrived.

Tony was dancing with him in a slightly rapturous world and her body had the flexibility of a snake. When they came back to the table, Tony was out of breath.

"You always dance like that?" Brad asked.

"Maybe it was the effect of the drinks." Her face turned red. Brad couldn't help but be amused by the sight that even girls like Tony could blush.

 His longing to meet Mr. Moriel, the owner of the club, was soon fulfilled, as he himself walked up to their table.

"Good evening Tony." He raised his head after hearing a hoof sound.

"This is Mr. Moriel. The owner of this club." Tony quickly told Brad.

"And this is Mr. Brad Steele."

Moriel was a man of medium height but a thin build. His face was round. Like most club owners, he was dressed in a smart suit and looked like the perfect gentleman.

 Maybe I was meant to be introduced to this person, Brad thought to himself as he shook Moriel's hand. Moriel sat down at their table without waiting for his invitation. Brad realized that unless he made rapid progress, he would hardly know anything. He looked into Moriel's eyes and smiled.

"I like your club very much. Especially the people you hire, there's no answer," he said, taking Tony's hand and pressing and caressing it in a special way.

Moriel didn't answer. Silently rolling the cigar in his fingers. But Brad felt his brows furrow and his face flush. He realized that Moriel was one of Tony's lovers, but maybe he was crazy about her.

Tony excused herself for a minute and went somewhere. Brad deliberately watched her go with hungry eyes until she was out of sight. Then he took a deep breath, tongue over his lips. 

He was totally trying to show through his actions that he was mad at Tony.

"It seems that you are trying to set all the stages very quickly," Moriel said in a sarcastic tone. He showed his reaction.

"No. I'm not in such a hurry?" Brad said nonchalantly.

"Smart people say that the ripe fruit is the fruit in the cradle, and in my eyes, Tony is a ripe fruit anyway."

  Moriel couldn't hold back anymore. The signs of anger on his face became prominent.

 "I have the best advice for your own good, Brad, leave this town immediately," he said in a sarcastic tone.

"And if I refuse to follow this advice?"

“So you'd be too bad.” Moriel's tone was now calm.

"I expect very little of good things. For I am not a very good man either." Brad said nonchalantly.

Moriel stood up and said, "People in my position don't usually get their hands dirty. Their job is just to make a point. My heart tells me that if you don't leave the city immediately. Something will happen to you."

   "Thanks for the warning. You can go now. Tony will be back. Your presence will make my mouth taste worse." Brad said sarcastically examining him head to toe. 

He glared at Brad and left. Brad was sure that he had left no stone unturned in bringing the beast out of the lair.

When Tony came back, after looking around with scared eyes, she sat down and said, 

"Brad, you need to leave this town immediately. I'm scared."

"When I'm starting to like this city and I'm starting to like it here, everyone is trying to advise me to leave the city." Brad took a deep breath.

"Abandon that advice and eat. After dinner, we will dance a little longer."

"I think I should go home now," Tony said, holding her stomach and making a bad mouth. 

“Drinks didn't turn out well for me."

Brad couldn't help but praise her acting. He was thinking that if Geras fell into the hands of a group of such people, then whatever would happen to him was less.

He left Tony insistently and went with her. Tony said that her house was nearby, so they left on foot. It was a little dark at the door of the house. Tony whispered while saying goodbye to Brad.

 "God, please leave the city, lest this meeting with you for a few hours becomes the regret of life."

She quickly turned and went inside. Brad took small steps toward the center of town. The matter was still not settled in his eyes.

 He decided that with Tony out of his mind, he should meet Mr. Strangler as well, but he quickly realized that getting a girl like Tony out of his mind was no easy task.

  Suddenly, his eyes fell on a signboard on the corner of a street. It was the first street sign he had seen. 'Beacon Street' was the same street where Jack Newton was killed.

Brad reluctantly entered the street. Perhaps a stubbornness had crept in on him. Tony may have given him sincere advice, but he was walking into a trap himself.

More than half of the street was pitch dark. Brad was as alert as a leopard when crossing the street. Despite this, when he was attacked, he could not cope.

They were three in number. Two jumped from the right and one from the left. They attacked with lightning speed. One put a hard hand over his mouth and the other punched him in the stomach so hard that for a moment Brad forgot to breathe. However, he at least managed to push the third man behind him onto the pavement. His head hit the concrete floor and he was left lying there. This success boosted his courage.

The punch to the stomach seemed to have taken the life out of his body, but at the same time, the bells were ringing in his mind that he had to prove himself better than Jack Newton or death would be his destiny too. He stomped on one's navel with full force. He also screamed and sat on the footpath.

Brad might have been able to deal with all three, but the third one had pulled out a thick stick. He swung the stick with all his might. Brad tries to escape but the stick lands on his head. He fell on his knees in such a way that for a moment he suspected that his knees might also be broken, then his mind sank into darkness.

Even after regaining consciousness, he could not get up for a long time. He was feeling the touch of the cold floor on his face. The head was hurting badly and the joints of the body also seemed to have become ineffective.

With great difficulty, he managed to sit up and after taking a few deep breaths he felt better. It was a small room with bottles on shelves along the walls. The door was locked as he expected. There was no window in the room.

He picked up a bottle of scotch from the shelf. Tossing the metal lid off, he sat on an empty crate and sat down contentedly, setting the bottle aside after taking a few small sips. After a few minutes, he felt better.

Suddenly he heard a voice from outside.

"Vulture! Why did you bring him up here? It is well known that I do not like to be directly involved in such matters."

It was Moriel's voice. The next moment the door opened and Moriel entered the room. A large young man was behind him who looked foolish. His forehead was injured. He spoke as if warning Moriel.

  "Beware of him. The man is dangerous."

"I'm always careful, Strangler," Moriel said disdainfully as he sat down in an empty crate. 

Brad was heartened to learn that the man he had loaded onto his back and thrown to the pavement was a professional wrestler strangler.

"I gave you some advice, Brad," Moriel said. Brad didn't answer. He was now feeling great strength in his body. Suddenly he jumped up from his place and punched Moriel in the stomach and hit him in the face. Almost at the same moment his kick turned and landed on Strangler's knee.

Moriel rolled off the crate and Strangler was also staggered. He did not lock the door while entering. Brad jumped toward the door. If he had a second's respite, he might have gone out the door, but at that moment his foot slipped on something and he fell face down in the corner. He couldn't help but bemoan his misfortune that the thing he had tripped over was the same Scotch bottle cap that he himself had carelessly thrown on the floor.

Moriel was knocked off the shelf and several bottles fell to the floor, but he managed to get up. Brad had not been able to get up immediately. His skull was rotated. Moriel picked him up and sat him down on an empty beer crate.

"I won't kill you until you get better," Moriel muttered. 

"So you can feel the pain properly".

"If you want me to get better soon, give me a few more sips," Brad said.

"Of course." Moriel smiled through gritted teeth. He took out the revolver and placed it on the shelf near him. Brad reached out to pick up the bottle he had left near the wall and put it in his mouth.

Suddenly the door opened and Tony entered the room. She looked at her stepbrother and said,

 "I was passing by so I thought I'd tell you." Suddenly her eyes fell on Brad and she left the sentence unfinished.

  She had changed her clothes and got ready to go somewhere. A movement of her arm moved her fine coat slightly to one side, and Brad caught a glimpse of a fine brooch on her dress near the breast. Brad couldn't see the entire brooch, but he was sure it would resemble a bunch of flowers and be set with diamonds.

  Brad looked at Tony and said smiling.

"What a coincidence. All of us gentlemen have gathered in one place, Tony, you pull a crate and sit comfortably. Consider this your home. We have something to talk about."

Tony was pale but sat down on an empty crate. Brad took a sip and said, "But we should have a little drink in celebration of this meeting."

He held out the bottle to Moriel.

"Here. First, you drink, Detective's killer."

Moriel's hand reaching for the bottle stopped in mid-air. His mouth fell open in surprise. For Brad, that one moment of his surprise was enough. He slammed the bottle into Moriel's face. Moriel tried to duck but couldn't quite escape. Brad jumped to pick up the revolver on the shelf.

 For the same purpose, Strangler was also moved but Brad reached the revolver first.

"Be careful not to move from your place," he said, turning around quickly.

  Strangler stood still in his place but his eyes were on the revolver. Moriel was wiping the whiskey from his face. Pain on the face was noticeable. Tony had a strange smile on her lips.

  "For days I couldn't solve this puzzle," said Brad.

 "But now it all makes sense to me. Moriel, I asked you to be the killer of Detectives just to surprise you. But to your surprise, I understand. I got a little help. Tell me, is your car outside?"

Moriel nodded yes.

"We all have to sit in the car and go to a person, to talk about a precious brooch," said Brad. 

"Don't try to be smart because I'm very angry right now. And when I'm very angry I tend to pull the trigger without thinking. Do you want to hear what I understand, Moriel?"

Moriel did not answer but Brad continued talking.

"In this city, there lives a nobleman named Geras. He is a strong man. But he is terrified of his wife and father-in-law. Because he owes all his wealth to them. But I think if he is in trouble, If he gets trapped and sees no way out, he will take extreme measures like murder.

  Despite being afraid of his wife and father-in-law like a child, seeing beautiful girls, he can't help himself, and he gives up with his heart and soul. 

When he met Tony here, he also fell in love with Tony. And he gave his wife's precious brooch to Tony as a gift, which his wife had given him to repair. He devoted himself to Tony to such an extent. Even after understanding that, he did not have the courage to ask for the brooch back from Tony.

  But there had to be a solid basis for telling the wife that the brooch was missing. He reached our agency office in Chicago. He thought that he would be able to prevent us from getting to the bottom of the matter and at the same time his wife would also believe that the brooch was indeed stolen. Then Geras is trying so seriously to recover him that he has also hired a well-known detective."

  Resting his head with his left hand for a moment, Brad continued.

"The agency sent a detective named Jack Newton here. Jack Newton wasn't stupid. He probably realized the truth soon enough and revealed it to Geras.

 He must have left to retrieve the brooch from Tony that night. The situation drove Geras mad, he was sure that if his wife got wind of this, she would grab him by the ear and throw him out of the house, deprived of all luxuries in the blink of an eye.

  It was the harshest punishment in the world for him. So he went in pursuit of Jack Newton and in a dark alley he caught him from behind and broke his neck."

Brad paused for a moment to catch his breath. Meanwhile, he heard the sound of the door opening behind him. Before he could turn around, a long, strong arm grabbed his neck. With the other hand, he grabbed his revolver arm.

"There's no doubt you're a smart guy, Brad." A voice came from behind him.

"But now I'm taking matters into my own hands.”

 It couldn't be anyone but Geras. Then Brad realized why Tony had been smiling for so long. She must have known Geras was out there.

Instead of answering, Brad elbowed Geras in the stomach with full force. An "ouch" came out of Geras's throat, but Brad couldn't get out of his grip. 

Geras twisted his arm so that the revolver fell from his hand to the floor. He was trying to think of something, but when his neck is stiff, it becomes very difficult to think.

  However, he definitely remembered that Moriel was also crazy about Tony. It was just his bad luck that he sent his goons to teach Brad a lesson about Tony and they attacked Brad in the same street where Jack Newton's neck was broken.

Moriel's condition was not good at that time and it was becoming difficult for Brad to speak but somehow he screamed in a low voice.

  "Moriel, it was Geras who took your beloved away from you. Tony is still wearing the brooch he gave her. If you want, take off his coat and see."

   Tony reached forward and quickly tried to pick up the revolver, but Brad kicked her and she jumped away. Geras tried to tighten the arm clamp.

 His chin rested on Brad's head. Brad suddenly got a sense of humor and jumped with all his might after lowering his head as much as possible. His head hit Geras's chin so hard that for a moment his own eyes went dark. But the arm clamp slipped from his neck.

He quickly moved away from Geras. He could hardly see the view of the room. During this time, Moriel's condition had improved and he picked up the bottle that was hit on his mouth and gave it to Geras's chin. Geras collapsed to the floor. Strangler stepped forward and began to pick up his half-sister.

Moriel looked at Brad and said in a shocked voice "I still don't understand the whole thing". 

Brad had picked up the revolver in the meantime.

Brad explained "I jumped into this after Jack Newton's death. Geras knew of my arrival. He planned it. He believed his tactics would either scare me into running away or Then the suspicions would shift to other people. He was the one who sent Tony to meet me, under his direction, Tony was setting a trap for me.

 Geras was sure that seeing my attitude towards Tony, you were fueled by rivalry. On the other hand, I will be suspicious of you. You fell for this trick. You sent your goons just to beat me up, but I turned out to be tougher than they expected.

They were injured and brought me here in panic. Perhaps their intention was to punish me here for my disobedience. Here, seeing a glimpse of the brooch on Tony's dress made me understand the whole thing.

Then I called you the killer of detectives, so you were surprised. I also took advantage of this and concluded that you are not Jack Newton's killer after all…

I remembered that Geras was a football player. He was tall and strong. Now, of course, he has become somewhat fat, but he still has such strength that he can break the neck of an ordinary person in a fit of anger and panic.

 I just didn't know that he was here with Tony at the time, was out there, and heard everything."

  Brad stood holding the revolver tightly.

Tony stood up with the support of his brother and looked at Brad and tried to smile, speaking in a drunken voice.

"You still don't know one more thing. And that is that I like you better than all the men I have met so far."

  "Very happy to hear that," Brad said in a sarcastic tone.

"Unfortunately, now my trust has been lost from my beautiful faces. I will now have the opportunity to test the validity of your claim when you come out of jail and by then you will be old. So what's the use?"

He shook his head regretfully and started moving towards the door, keeping them at gunpoint.

THE END