The New York Detective

In The New York Detective, Nicolas Lamattina writes a crime fiction retelling of the Three Little Pigs, through audio recordings.

New York's notorious crime trio. (Image: WIX)

Overview: The New York detective is a Crime fiction retelling of the Three Little Pigs. Derek Ringford, a NYPD detective is trying to solve a murder and robbery allegedly caused by a crime trio named “The Three Little Pigs”. The story is told with 4 audio recordings retrieved by the NYPD a couple days after.

1

Testing one two, testing one two.

Hello, this is Derek Ringford, a NYPD detective currently on my 1739th case. Details of the case confirm the robbery and murder of a condo owner in New York's eastern suburbs. The victim was an old man named Roger Fletcher. Approximately 55 years old, barely 5 '6, no family, no partner, but worked as a Doormaker 10 blocks away. Sigh. Doormaker? You would think he would make a better door for his apartment. Guess not. Moving on, stolen possessions? Appears to be $483.56. Confirmed suspects. “The Three Little Pigs". New York's notorious crime trio. I’ve been waiting for this. Watch out, pigs.

Click.

2

Testing, testing.

I am currently outside a building owned by the three pigs. It’s an ominous overcast day with a windy kick. Their hideout is a two-storey, brick house with several shut windows and blinds. They sure love their privacy. The pigs go by the names Straw, Sticks, and Bricks. Such weird names. The file has little intel on the brothers. Says here, Brick is the oldest brother, followed by Sticks, then Straw. Brick must be their leader, then. That’s going to be hard; they look nearly identical. Must be part of their facade, I’m assuming. Wait? Is that one of the pigs in the car out the front? He should be keeping watch, but appears to be snoozing away. Meh ‘em. How disappointing.

Click.

3

“Whirr, Tighten”. The first pig is down. Infiltration into the car was successful, and the pig is now immobilised and unconscious. The pig is suspected to be Straw, given his lack of awareness. Now onto the building. The brick steps out the front are perfectly level, and the front door looks brand new. Probably from a factory nearby. “Twist”. It’s locked. A pig might be waiting for me to walk in carelessly. But I’m never careless. I’ll knock on the window to my left as a distraction. “Knock, Knock”. “Stomp, stomp, stomp”. “Scraping metal, tumblers shift, CLICK”. Doors open.” Twist, Creak”.

Dammit, he’s running upstairs.

Click.

4

“Huff, haff”. “Huff, haff”. I’m currently inside the house. The pig. “Huff”. Has been. “Huff”. Immobilised. “Haaaaaaa”. I’ll check the rooms down here. The inside seems normal, just very dark. I’m finding it hard to see in all this dust. Don’t surprise me that these three live in a pigsty. Living room, empty. Laundry, empty. Kitchen, empty. Dining room. There seem to be empty mags and bundles of cash on the table. But no sign of the $438.56. It must be with the last pig. Moving upstairs. The second storey is darker than the first. The stairs lead me to the right side of a narrow corridor. Turning left means I’ll be moving down the corridor, but there’s no need. The last pig seems to be in the room in front of me. Light is leaking from under the door. Is he watching TV?  Might explain why he didn’t hear the rambling before. The door? Rich rosewood timber and a handle with a custom keyhole. Where did they get this? Did they steal it? No, it can’t be; the handle is installed the right way. But this is no normal keyhole. This might take a minute. 

“Scraping metal, tumbler one, click, tumbler two, click…”.

“Clic Cling”. Bye Detective. 

What?

“BANG!!!!!”

“THUD!”

“Hissssssssssssssssssssssssssssss. Grab.”

Nice try, Ringford. Good intuition, but still careless. Guess there’s a first time for everything.

Click.