The most notable Rogues used to hide out deep in the Sufokia Mines. And the most famous one was no exception! As a matter of course, then, detectives Lim and Sommersec end up down there, knocking on every door in an attempt to finally catch Remington Smisse…
The home was shrouded in darkness. Where the foyer ended, the front door throbbed from the violent blows hitting the other side.
"Lim, we don't have the right to do this…"
Craaack! The door gave way. Two figures stood in the doorway. One was a dark-skinned Enutrof wearing a beige trench coat and holding a torch, with a worried expression below his old brown cap. His moustache was perfectly trimmed. The other was a young Ouginak covered in short hair, with a dejected look on his face, a wound above his right eyebrow, his arm in a sling, and rage in his eyes.
"Now that it's open, not only is it our right, but it's our duty…"
The old investigator shook his head at the insolent bulldog, who was already brandishing his torch inside, as if aiming it at someone.
"Please forgive my nasty temper, Sommersec, it's just… I'm tired of gently knocking on doors, only to get beaten up by a band of Rogues who think we're there to bust them!"
- "And what if this isn't his place?" the seasoned inspector rightly asked as he followed Lim inside.
- "Well then, it'll be the same story as the six other ramshackle homes we've visited since this morning: the tenant will flee the scene, and then we'll conduct a search of the premises."
- "That's what you plan on putting in your report?"
- "Yes, sir!"
- "Pffft…"
- "Bless you!"
While Detective Lim spent no more than a second looking at each object, like a dog sniffing something out, the Enutrof investigator examined every little detail.
"Hey, Sommersec, there's some kind of powder here. Aren't you going to take a taste and tell me what grocery store it came from?"
- "Very funny, Lim. You ought to be more careful with that torch if you don't want us to end up roasted. Then again, at least you'd get a better haircut out of it…"
Sommersec stopped at a bookcase, opening every journal inside. Lim opened a drawer, and a grin appeared on the Ouginak's busted face. His tongue lolled out as he panted.
"This is his place, Sommersec. This is his place!"
The old investigator, having put on his glasses to read one of the journals, joined him nonchalantly. As proud as if he'd found a bone, Lim peeked at the item in the drawer before looking back at his partner; it was a shushued pocket pistol. In the middle of the mini revolver, a pupil stirred within a large eye:
"Hey, guys… Guys! I swear, I didn't see nothin'! I don't know nothin'… I was here!"
- "That proves nothing," Sommersec said before returning to the bookcase.
- "What do you mean, that proves nothing? Remington collects shushus, and specifically weapons!" barked Lim.
- "Oh, do you see a collection? All I see is a single pitiful gun…"
- "Exactly!" the pistol blurted. "Wait… Take that back!"
- "I'm positive Remi is crashing here!"
- "I never said he wasn't."
- "…"
- "I'm only saying that little shooter doesn't prove it. Now this…" he said while brandishing the journal. "This proves he was here!"
The Ouginak shut the drawer, stifling the tense shushu's rambling, and joined his partner. He grabbed the journal and began leafing through it. Gradually, his expression went from incomprehension to derision, finally settling on unease.
"It would seem our king of thieves is a poet," said Sommersec.
*****
Tucked away in hundreds of journals, all meticulously organized, dated, filled in, and signed, were the thoughts, passions, and artistic efforts of the misunderstood Rogue.
In one, his love for the last shushued bomb he had stolen:
"Pexbomb, Pexbomb, I adore you the most!
You make everything explode, and my foes give up the ghost.
Pexbomb, Pexbomb, I adore you the most!
And baby, they're all going to roast."
In another, he described what he felt after being thrown into a Brakmarian jail and separated from his brother. It was the first time since… his birth.
"Oh, Grany, I need to say
They're hurting me so!
Oh, Grany, I need to get away
I'll cling to your fur and never let go…"
Lim burst out laughing.
"You have to admit, ha ha… He's got his own style!"
- "Hey, read this one. It's not bad either," his older colleague suggested, offering another opened journal.
"A psychopath, still without a mate
Pale face, hair pulled back straight
And I like that.
A quick draw, she'll blow you away.
Her look, I'm telling you, is enough to slay.
It's just like that.
Such a rebel, in her stride
Such a rebel, I'm falling for her – wham! I just died…
Those killer eyes, that deadly stare,
She shot first and I'm hit, better say a prayer…"
Detective Sommersec patted his young teammate on the shoulder.
"Even if we didn't catch him today, the poor sod at least gave us a good laugh!"
*****
That very moment, some kilokameters away, Remington Smisse was riding his trusty dragoturkey at a full gallop, his feline brother Grany holding fast to his shoulder. The Rogue felt a shiver.
"What's wrong, brother?" meowed Grany.
- "I don't know. I'm getting… cold sweats or something. This unpleasant feeling down my neck and back."
- "You get that whenever Grandmeow finds one of your journals…"
- That's impossible – I took them all out of the house and stored them in… BY SRAM! Double back, Sugarcane! We're returning to the Sufokia Mines!!!"