Stillness befell the winds, and a settled, lukewarm temperature brushed up against the fur of nearby bystanders. Say what you will, the meteorologists yelled to the skies that this day would mark the end of Acera’s frivolous weather patterns, and that seemed to be the case. Vulpecula Noel took complete refuge in these ideas of grandeur, taking a rarity and putting his faith in optimism. He had grown tired of the weather and its inconsistencies, being unable to decide between rain, misting, sleet, heavy winds, or even snow-storms.
Spring was upon them, and he and his friends welcomed it with open-arms.
Above all else, Vulpecula wanted to return to work on his cases. While still considered a rookie when it came to his detective work, because his father was Hensley Noel, it wasn’t too difficult for him to get clientele.
However, in recent days, clarity came, and he found that the weather meant even criminals didn’t feel like leaving the house. He did have one case though, in the rainy weather which he found to be an absolute experience. There is something to be said for the thinkers that did their work inside of small cubicles or bedrooms, but Vulpecula wasn’t one of them.
He couldn’t sit still very well, and it just wasn’t for him.
Thankfully, the sun was once again ready to shine upon them and without further ado, the good fortune would continue as Vulpecula was even welcomed with a case.
“Everything feels so much merrier outside now, it’s funny but one really does feel happier in the summertime.” Apus confessed, beholding the scenery filled with trees beside houses and a steady number of vehicles carrying traffic on the roads. There was never too much traffic in Acera; after all, it is the smallest of the five major cities in Maharris.
“There is never anything to do when its wet out, just cooped in a cruddy room at a hotel all day,” Lacerta retorted.
Vulpecula hardly thought that the hotels at the Sidian Inn were cruddy but cared too little to argue. Instead, Vulpecula stared down at the sidewalk before him, noticing all the cracks and crevices, while, at the same time, trying to approximate how much further they would have to go.
“I think there is probably something psychological about it, I mean, besides merely that someone isn’t able to go outside. The obstruction of the sun probably induces a feeling of pessimism that carries itself in each person.”
Vulpecula found himself once again throwing strong recognition over Apus’ intelligence, citing it as a strong attribute in the trio’s problem-solving capabilities. However, once more, he cared not about the discussions that they were having. And so, he spoke: “Where is this McKinley Halls, and are we getting anywhere closer to it?”
“It won’t be much further now, it isn’t far, and after all, we’ve only been walking for a couple of minutes.” Lacerta responded at once, then, turned his head away from Vulpecula and back to the sidewalk ahead of them.
Right foot, left foot, right foot, left foot … Vulpecula took a moment to appreciate that all three of their footsteps had become synchronized. Noel was feeling admittedly antsy, wanting so desperately to have something to sink his teeth into.
“Apus, you received this email from Eric Leon, correct?” Vulpecula began and ended, before starting up once more without waiting for an answer. “Eric Leon messaged last night at around eleven o’clock at night and said, as follows, excluding formal salutations: ‘I am writing this because I know that Vulpecula has proven dignified in his short tenure in dealing with unknown mysteries. While I have only read what the newspapers will share with me, I believe that you will likely find this one to be the strangest of all the cases that you have experienced. The sensitivity of this case is all too noteworthy to discuss the confines in a message over the internet.’ Then, of course, it is followed by the closing remarks, as well as information about McKinley Halls, is that correct?”
“Amazing,” Apus starts out before Lacerta interrupts. “You can remember word-for-word something that Apus read out to both of us, but can’t name the mayor of Acera, a place that you have lived for all of your life?”
“Lacerta, I can’t even remember what I had for breakfast before we left,” Vulpecula admitted shamelessly. It was true, Vulpecula had the memory of an elephant, but the unfortunate truth is that the elephant had long been dead.
What did the attentive detective say when the elephant tried to stealthily trample past him? He didn’t say anything because he didn’t even notice. And this was the biggest reason out of all of them that Lacerta and Apus were necessary elements in the Vulpecian formula.
“I didn’t have an opportunity to acquire Rescue’s Tribune, I’m afraid, so we’ll be going into this blindly.” Apus confessed.
“As I prefer, … the Rescue Tribune is filled with propaganda in the same ways as the newspapers printed out by the Canes Vinatici were, the only difference is Rescue does the courtesy of actually trying to obscure itself.”
“Rescue Tribune has written many articles about our successes so far, they did a full-page article telling about how we solved our first case, and since then, all of our cases have at least been given short-summaries.” Apus pointed out confidently.
“In the same articles writing about our successes, they referred to yours truly as ‘nonsensical and unnecessarily rebellious’.”
They arrived at McKinley Halls after more minutes of small discussion and beheld the audacity that the building carried with it. Vulpecula hadn’t really known what to expect, but for whatever reason, he never once gave thought to the idea McKinley Halls might be a fair-sized theater. There was a big sign at the top of the building that said ‘McKinley Halls’ with a sculpture of a human sitting in a chair eating popcorn on top of it. Vulpecula couldn’t help but find some amusement in the idea of human sitting in a chair and watching a movie. Below the sign and the sculpture was a marquee which read as such:
Welcome to McKinley Hall Theater!
Home of the Magnets!
We Are Currently Closed.
The Canes Files