Detective Carter Fates was a tall, broad shouldered man about 30. He face had a certain sternness and he rarely spoke. When he did, it was a low, powerful voice that had a special tone. Three nights ago, in this very house I stand in, was the murder of a notable film director, Victor Regad, who was going to speak to some actors the next day about his very new film idea. He had called some of his colleagues for dinner, and the next day he was found dead with a knife stabbed in his heart. It had been three nights since Fates had been called and three nights since we had pondered over the murder.
Last night we spoke about our theories and who we suspected. Well, more like my theory and my suspicions. Fates had shaken his head, “No, my friend, your theory is not correct. You completely forget so many factors.”
I was utterly stumped at Fates’ blunt response to my well thought theory. “What is your great theory then, Mr. Fates?” I said, rudely.
“I cannot say yet.” He responded leaving the room. I looked at my desk. It had a card and on it was written, “Ears are Everywhere.” And I suddenly understood.
We had arrived in the study upon Fates’ request. The hour neared 7 o’clock. It rained heavily outside and once in a while thunder crackled.
Fates was the last to enter and there was a tense silence in the study broken by Fates.
“I now know who killed Mr. Victor Regad.” Fates said directly.
“Who? Who?” we asked.
“It is simple. How can a man be killed when no one enters the room? Well, he must have left it. Well, why? You may very well ask. Something very compelling for Mr. Regad.”
“Where did he go? Why did he go there?”
“I shall explain in due time. Please be patient. Now, Regad leaves the study through the window and into a tunnel he built to transport himself to the billiard room. There, he meets his murderer.”
Suddenly, a dark, shadowy figure appeared at the entrance of the room. The room lay still in a long silence. One I will never forget.