Isaac Maruyama

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Detective Cadence — A Music Theory Mystery (Chapter One)


I awoke from my usual deep and dreamless slumber to a soft, rhythmic knocking on the bedroom window. For most people living on the fifth floor of an apartment complex in Colorado Springs, I imagine it would come as quite a surprise to be awoken in this matter. But unfortunately, for me…

I flung open the curtains and there he was, perched on the fire escape like a featherless owl. Cadence Green — renowned private detective, decorated war veteran, and my next-door neighbor. I sighed and reached over to unlatch the window.

He sprung in the second the window was opened, accompanied by a gust of cold autumn wind.

“Sorry to wake you up like this again, but you weren’t answering the door,” the detective said in a hushed voice. His pale green eyes glinted in the darkness of the bedroom as I fumbled for the light switch.

“You know, most people tend not to at three o’clock in the morning.” The irritation in my voice passed by him unnoticed as he paced silently across the carpeted floor. I turned on the lights, blinking my eyes open like a baby emerging from the womb.

“Oh, but I couldn’t let you miss this,” he said, waving his arms around excitedly.

“What is it, Cadence?” By now, the grogginess of sleep had begun to disappear from my mind, and I caught myself becoming drawn in by the detective’s contagious enthusiasm.

“Well, since you’ve been kind enough to accompany me on a few cases this year, I thought I might bring you along for the most exciting one yet.”

“Is it about that music composer who threw himself off the Wells Fargo Tower yesterday?” I asked as I grabbed a shirt from the closet.

“Of course not! Suicides are boring. And besides, he didn’t even leave a note. What I have in mind is something far more troubling.” I noticed a rare expression of concern cross the detective’s hardened features for a split-second.

“Is this… personal?” I ventured, hesitantly.

“Unfortunately, yes. Major Cornelius Baxter, an old friend of mine, has been accused of stealing from a visiting Turkish ambassador. He’s being put on trial tomorrow.”

“What did he steal?”

“Nothing!” The detective spat. “But we’ll need to move quickly if we’re to prove it before it’s too late.”

And with that, the detective strode over to the door and left.