The Mystery of the Rammed Key

SCENE  1

Smoking  Sepulcher

The family mausoleum with a patinated bronze epigraph FAMILIE GELDERSMANN loomed between two giant firs.  For about a quarter of an hour, it was closely monitored by a motionless observer.  Who in their right mind would want to skulk here at this chilly hour??  Nevertheless, a shadowy stealth silhouette kept perseverantly lurking in the nearby thuja grove.  

Another fifteen minutes later, the two suspectful eyes still unbrokenly hawkeyed through the evening gloominess.  What on Earth could be so focus-worthy?  Judging by the aspectual angle, the beholder's gaze must have been perfixed on a foggish murk lingering above the charnel.  Yes, indubitably:  The secretive slyman seemed mistrustfully rescrutinising some sort of ghostlyish rooftop fogginess.  Maybe the terminology here is not exactly orthodox, but it's semantically hard to describe that mistlike opacity which mellowly fuzzed the mausoleum's time-blackened roundish roofline.  

Then it happened again.  The earlier numinous aberrancy reoccurred shortly before half past eight:  Another slight haze has emanated from the roundshaped sidewall airhole.  After slithering smoothly around the cross-welded grillerods, the leaves-scented air carried it calmly over the surrounding tombstones.  The man among thujas took advantage of a train rumble resounding from the distance to slip silently behind the neighbouring cenotaph.  A thrush warbled somewhere.  A new whitish cloud passed through the glassless fenestella into the autumn's dusk and soon floated just above the watcher's head.

For a long afterwhile, nothing seemed happening at all.  The sneaking spy just listened intently, his stony eyes studying the area environing the smoking tomb house.  Finally, he steadily and cautiously slipped his hand under the overcoat and pulled something elongated out of the underarm holster.  Then he slowly reached into his sidepocket as well.  Onto the protruding end of the produced oblong object, he noiselessly screwed a thick add-on.  Aiming the extended tube upwards, he moved towards the rear corner of the observed smokepuffing ossuary.    

Only a few yards were remaining to the frontwall.  Any cracking sound of a trampled twig or dry leaf would be a gross mistake during the last phase of his inconspicuous advance.  The stealthy visitor needed to avoid such failure at all costs.  The cobbled walkway lining the stone foundations of the destination reverence shelter seemed to be the least problematic route.  The tip of his polished shoe gently pushed away leaf after leaf from underfoot.  Thus, preparing the ground for a professional completion of the accessional tactic without causing the slightest rustle.

His back pressed against the side wall, the cautious gentleman gradually worked his way to the frontage quoin.  With a finger on the trigger, he carefully moved his weapon's muzzle in front of the spirally carved granite pillar.  His smooth progress got complicated by an unpleasant deep raingutter filled with oozy gunk, which he had to overleap precariously.  Lightning-fast movements, however, were obviously no problem for the facemasked figure:  The lithesome dusky silhouette smartly leveraged the jump-gained speed and, in a single bound, straddle swooshed roundward the cornerpillar into the anteporch's gloom.

At first, the vigilant explorer waited motionless for a few minutes.  He did not proceed forward until his breathing calmed down entirely and not before reascertaining himself of no sound or movement in the observable vicinity.  As soon as his outstretched arm could risklessly reach the glazed cut-out in the entrance gate, he tensed all his muscles and braced himself for unforeseen surprises.  Exercising increased caution, he crept stealthily till his head reached the dusty glass's edgerim.  After a slow sidebend peek through the grillaged front door, his hand suddenly slackened.  A scarcely perceptible hint of relief flitted across his face:

—Good evening...—  he spoke laconically towards the inside, hiding the pistol under his topcoat.  —What an exquisite~...   FREE CONTINUATION  -  DOWNLOAD HERE . . . 

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