In the heart of the city of "Imperia," where gaslight lamps danced with the shadows on the cobblestone streets, the clock struck midnight as a piercing scream shattered the silence of the upscale neighborhood. Inside the mansion of "Hermes Blackwood," a renowned antique collector, his luxurious study was in disarray. On the floor, Hermes lay motionless, while his most prized masterpiece, "The Glass Flower," had vanished from its marble pedestal.
Local detectives arrived, but bewilderment seized them. The room was locked from the inside, the windows were bolted shut, and there was no sign of a break-in or forced entry. The crime seemed impossible.
Just then, Klaus arrived, a private detective the authorities only call when all other options have been exhausted. In his thirties, he wore a distinctive black hat adorned with uniquely shaped glasses. His soft black hair fell over his forehead, and his green eyes watched everything with caution. A light sprinkle of freckles decorated his face, as if it were a map of his complex thoughts.
Beside him walked Rio, his assistant, who looked like a beautiful girl in her twenties. Her skin was pure white, her short black hair framed her face, and her blue eyes were as steady as jewels. She wore a light black dress that moved smoothly with her, topped with a light black cloak.
Klaus looked at one of the detectives who was rubbing his head in despair.
"Sir, I see no way for the killer to have entered," the detective said.
Klaus did not reply. Instead, he let his gaze sweep across the room. He stopped at the detective and looked at him steadily.
"I see you've been on this case for hours. I don't think you've eaten anything in a while, and you put on this hat just minutes before arriving here," Klaus said in a calm tone, as the detective stared at him in astonishment.
Klaus pointed to small bread crumbs on the detective's shoulder, wet hair on the rim of his hat, and his tie that was slightly askew.
"The crumbs suggest a quick meal before leaving. The wet hair indicates you showered in a hurry. And the crooked tie shows you put it on quickly," Klaus explained.
He then turned to Rio and smiled faintly. Rio was still silent, but she was observing him with her steady eyes.
Klaus: Let's look at the actual crime scene now. Is there anything we missed?
The room froze for a few seconds. The local detectives said nothing, while Klaus began to stroll slowly. He moved through the space with deliberate steps, just like a ballet dancer on an empty stage. His green eyes lingered on every corner, every piece of furniture, every mark.
Klaus: This is Hermes Blackwood. A well-known collector with a refined taste and an obsession with rare objects.
No one paid attention to his comment, but he continued to speak as if he were giving a lecture.
Klaus: Look at these shelves. Every artifact here is arranged in a specific order, from oldest to newest. And each one has a small plaque with its history and value inscribed. This man wasn't just a collector; he was a walking archive.
He stopped in front of the empty marble pedestal where "The Glass Flower" had been placed. He ran his hand over its smooth surface, then carefully picked up a fine dust from its side. Rio stood nearby, her gaze fixed on the edge of the pedestal.
Klaus: The flower was taken from here. But not so simply.
The eyes of all the detectives turned to him, waiting for a word.
Klaus: Did any of you notice a specific smell?
Local Detective: A smell? No, sir, I don't see anything strange.
Klaus: (Closes his eyes and inhales slowly) It's a very distinctive smell. It's like the glue that carpenters use, but with a hint of something else, perhaps an old metal.
No one understood what he was talking about, but Rio was watching his every move.
Klaus: (Continues to wander) Look at the floor. Hermes Blackwood's footprints, here and there. All heading towards the door. But there's no other trace. No one entered or left.
Klaus looked at Rio, then gestured with his hand towards a corner of the room. Rio slowly walked forward and stood in front of a large mirror with a golden frame. It reflected nothing but her own image. Klaus looked at the mirror, then at Rio, and smiled again.
Klaus: The mirror, Rio. It's not just a mirror. Something tells me this room is not as simple as it seems.
The local detectives looked at the smooth mirror, then back at Klaus, wondering what he saw.
Klaus: The mirror is a window to what lies beyond the horizon. But it can also hide something right in front of our eyes.
Local Detective: I don't see anything, sir. It's just a mirror.
Klaus: (Slowly moves toward the mirror) Exactly. But why is there a mirror of this size in a private study? Not for decoration, but for a practical purpose.
Klaus placed his finger on the edge of the mirror's golden frame and then slid it away. He pointed to a faint fingerprint that could only be seen from a certain angle, especially when light reflected off it. Rio bent down slightly, her blue eyes fixed on the print.
Klaus: This print doesn't belong to Mr. Blackwood. It belongs to a woman.
Local Detective: A woman? But there's no evidence of a woman entering this place.
Klaus: (Wipes the print with his finger and then places his finger on his lips) It's not an ordinary print. It's a special kind of print.
Then Klaus looked at the floor again. At the crumbs that everyone thought were bread crumbs. Then at the smell of glue that no one but him could smell.
Klaus: Mr. Blackwood was obsessed with glass. He had a collection of rare glass-making tools. Where are they?
Local Detective: Sir, we didn't find any tools of that kind.
Klaus: (Smiled faintly, then looked at Rio) Where would a collector like him hide his most important tools? Certainly not in a place anyone could find.
Rio quietly moved to Klaus's side. The local detectives looked at them in astonishment, unable to understand what was happening.
Klaus: (Stares at the print again, then lifts his head) I have used my senses and my mind. The smell, the print, and the absence of the tools... Everything indicates that the crime was not a theft, but a visual deception.
He looked at Rio, then at the detectives.
Klaus: The flower was never taken from the room. It was replaced with an identical replica. And the killer never entered through the main entrance. He was here from the beginning.