Escapee on the train

Author: Hawk
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2006-03-01
Features: A strange incident occurs on a high-speed train. A police officer claims the criminal he is escorting has escaped and requests the conductor and passengers for help. The conductor tells him that the criminal could never have jumped off the train because the speed is too high—jumping would be suicide. But the escaped convict is nowhere to be found among the passengers, not even in the possibility of him disguised as a woman. Where exactly could the criminal be hiding? It had been two months since the last murder. On the surface, this was a good sign, but it didn’t bring relief. The seasoned detectives of the homicide division, usually overwhelmed by frequent cases, now had nothing to do and had to revisit old cases to find new clues. This was not normal for a metropolis. Most people, in a depressed mood, guessed when the next murder would occur. They called this period the "quiet period," hoping something would happen to restore the city to normal. A deranged killer made the citizens feel unsafe. He seemed to take pleasure in shooting people from the shadows and had no regular schedule for his crimes. The victims had no connection to each other. With no other choice, the police found a retired sniper, hoping he could track the killer. The showdown between the two sharpshooters began. The conflict between Native Americans and whites has long been ongoing and shows no sign of ending. A group of crows was pecking at the feed in the farm and infecting the sheep with a disease. Since this species of crow is a protected national animal, the farmer couldn’t simply shoot them with a rifle. He hired a biologist to solve the problem. But things were not as simple as they seemed. The crows were considered sacred birds by the local Native Americans, who vowed to protect them with their lives. Bloody conflict was inevitable. A thrilling mystery novel that takes you on a suspenseful and chilling reading experience!
The next time Derek Chalmers saw Fletcher Sloan, he thought he was too young to be a police officer. He held up his sealed Edinburgh police badge and placed it in front of her. The photo showed him even younger, with a mischievous smile that matched his dark hair and brown eyes. "Police officer, miss," he said. The express train from London to Edinburgh sped northward through the night. "What did I do?" she asked jokingly. He was dressed in civilian clothes, not as imposing as a uniformed officer. The mischievous smile played on his thick lips. "I hope nothing happened. I’m looking for a young Scottish man with dark hair and a deep red birthmark near his left ear, close to his ear." He traced the spot on his own face. "Does anyone look like him?" She shook her head. "No. What did he do?" "He killed someone in Edinburgh last winter and then fled to mainland Europe. A few days ago, he returned from Dover and was caught by customs. I’m escorting him to Scotland for trial." "He escaped?" "Not far. He went to the bathroom and slipped away when I wasn’t looking. The train is traveling at 100 kilometers per hour—he wouldn’t have jumped off. He’s hiding somewhere on the train. I’ve already asked the conductor to start searching from the front. I’d like to ask for your help—let’s start searching from the back." "Alright," she said, happy to help. The overnight express to Scotland was dull. The entire seven hours, there was nothing to see outside the window—only her own reflection. At least this was a bit exciting. They walked toward the back of the train. He explained, "You might need to check the restrooms. Oh, and what’s your name?" "Fletcher Sloan. I work as a fashion illustrator in London." "Then you’re traveling in the wrong direction!" she laughed. "To Scotland, for a weekend with my parents." Then she asked, "Have you ever lost a suspect before?" "No, miss. If I have to use the restroom with them, I’ll never let them escape. When the conductor came by, I only glanced at him from that door—he must have slipped away then." "Did anyone else in your carriage notice him?" "Most people were asleep. Of course, to them, Angus Selkirk was nothing special. Just an ordinary passenger." "Angus Selkirk," she repeated the name as she entered the next carriage. "Do you think he’s dangerous?" "Anyone who has killed before is dangerous." "No, I mean do you think he’s dangerous now? Could he resist arrest?" "I believe he will." "Do you have a weapon?" Chalmers shook his head. "When we got on the train, someone escorted us, and someone met us at the other end. Theoretically, the express train is like a long tunnel. As long as the train is moving, you can’t escape. Only when getting on or off the train are we handcuffed. If a weapon falls into the hands of the criminal on the train, it would only cause more casualties."