Vincent Vangoffman, known to his clients simply as VanGoff, sat in his new office. He was dressed in an English blazer, a gray shirt, and a burgundy bow tie. He had named his private detective agency "Sunflowers." He worked alone—no partner, no assistant. The only person he ever turned to for information was his old friend, Police Commissioner Taylor Gashek. But there was something else unusual about his work—he made use of the latest technological innovations, many of which were shared with him by FBI agent Bill Hardy.
VanGoff was enjoying a freshly squeezed orange juice, a hot cheese toast, and the view of Central Park. He still read the morning news the old-fashioned way - from newspapers, not from the internet or a smartphone. On the front page of The New York Times was a photo and a sensational headline: the death of Theodore Jones, a major shareholder of the Golden Stone holding. The body had been found in his office, and the official version claimed it was suicide. The article was long and detailed, dedicated to Mr. Jones's biography and business career.
"Interesting way to start the day," VanGoff thought to himself as he flipped through the pages. Then his sharp eyes caught a small, barely noticeable notice: a theft had occurred at the Metropolitan Museum. An ancient Egyptian artifact had been stolen - a hippo figurine nicknamed "William." The museum was offering a $30,000 reward for its return.
"Very interesting," VanGoff repeated. Just then, his phone rang. An unfamiliar number appeared on the screen. "Even more interesting," he thought, and tapped to answer.
"Good afternoon. Vincent Vangoffman?" came a voice on the other end.
"Yes, that's me. How can I help you?"
"This is Allen Corrado. I represent the Golden Stone holding. I have a matter to discuss - can we meet in about twenty minutes?"
"Of course. Write down the new office address. The agency recently moved."
Twenty minutes later, Allen Corrado was sitting in VanGoff's office.
"We need you to investigate the death of Theodore Jones, a shareholder of Golden Stone. Preliminary ruling: suicide. The body was found in his office. What's strange is that the gunshot was to the forehead. Theo wasn't the kind of man who would shoot himself like that. It doesn't add up. Someone is behind this. It's a complicated and tangled situation. The police have taken all the surveillance footage. We've reviewed the preliminary reports, but we're not satisfied. We need to get to the truth."
"I read about it in the paper this morning. The death of powerful people is always surrounded by mystery. I'll warn you - it won't be easy to unravel this. I'll try to access police records and look through the video footage. I'll do everything I can."
"This should cover your expenses," Allen said, handing over a check.
Taking the check, VanGoff asked, "Can I count on your help if I need anything?"
"Of course."
"Great. In that case, I'll get started today."
"Keep me informed. Every little detail matters."
***
After the conversation with Allen, VanGoff thought through his first steps. He decided to visit his friend, Police Commissioner Taylor Gashek. After that, he would plan the next move.
When VanGoff arrived at the station, Gashek was in his office, leaning back in his chair, deep in thought. His desk, as always, was buried under folders and paperwork. His face looked tired and irritated from the never-ending flow of cases. Seeing VanGoff in the doorway, he motioned for him to sit.
"What brings you here? What are you sniffing around for this time, VanGoff?" Taylor said, folding his arms behind his head.
"It's about Theo Jones. The paper says suicide," VanGoff began.
"The paper can say whatever it wants. The police know the facts. The rest... well, that's up to the higher-ups," Taylor waved his hand as if brushing away an unpleasant thought.
VanGoff settled into the chair and began asking questions. Taylor, without hiding anything, shared the details.
"Jones's body was found in his office. In his hand was a .22 caliber pistol. The bullet entered his forehead," Taylor continued. "The gun was confirmed to be his. But here's the strange part - his face. He looked completely calm, like he knew it was going to happen. It just doesn't make sense. Who shoots themselves in the forehead? And one more thing - there were fingerprints on the gun. They belonged to his secretary, Jessica Goodin. That's not what we expected. She's at least indirectly involved, but how did her prints end up on the weapon? Strange, right? That day, Hugo Kaiman was in Jones's office - they were discussing something important. We can't get ahold of him. The surveillance footage shows him waving a gun around in front of Theo with two of his buddies. They claim it was a .38. His lawyer isn't answering either. We wanted to bring him in for questioning."
VanGoff stroked his chin, realizing this case was far more tangled than it seemed at first glance.
"We questioned all the staff," Taylor continued. "As you know, we seized all the surveillance footage. But nothing unusual showed up. It seems like… suicide. But the fingerprints on the gun and Jones's calm expression don't sit right with me. Something's off, but I can't put my finger on it."
Just then, Lieutenant Tony entered the office. He scanned the room and, seeing VanGoff, nodded at him like an old acquaintance.
"Hey, VanGoff, what brings you around?" Tony asked with a lazy smile.
"Following up on the Theodore Jones case," VanGoff replied without skipping a beat.
Tony squinted, catching the serious tone.
"Got it. By the way, who's handling Robert Lee? I'm swamped. Also, word is the Victoria Orlando case has been closed. You heard?"
Taylor didn't look up from his documents. He just waved his hand, indicating higher authority.
"Case closed. End of story. Don't ask. As for Robert Lee, I'll figure out which of the guys needs a nudge. I've noted it. Don't worry."
Tony nodded and whistled his way out.
"Things are heating up around here," VanGoff remarked, watching Taylor's mild irritation.
"You're telling me. It's one thing after another," Taylor sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Did you get what you needed?"
VanGoff thought for a moment.
"I think I've got enough to get started. I'll keep digging."
"If you find something, let us know," Taylor muttered.
"Of course," VanGoff nodded. "If anything comes up that's relevant to the police, you'll be the first to know, Gashek."
VanGoff stood and prepared to leave.
"Thanks for the info, Gashek," he said as he walked out.
***
The information he had gathered was enough to take action. Back in his office, VanGoff began thinking through his next steps. His mind worked quickly, as always, and a plan began to form. The first thing he needed to do was talk to people from Theodore Jones's office - to understand what really happened. He planned to pay special attention to Jessica Goodin, Jones's secretary, who was now the main suspect. There were too many questions. How could she have gotten the gun if it really was suicide? Maybe it was murder? But if she killed him, why leave fingerprints on the weapon?
VanGoff's mind was already constructing hypotheses, but he knew one thing for sure - the solution was close.
***
The next morning, as planned, VanGoff headed to Jones's office. He was met by a security guard who clearly wasn't pleased by the visit.
"The police already questioned all of us. How many times do we have to answer the same questions?"
VanGoff ignored the complaint and focused on his task. The guard eventually led him to the office, where his first interviewee was Jessica Goodin, Jones's secretary. She sat at her desk, quietly tapping a pen on a folder, visibly tense. Her eyes were full of worry - eyes that could betray any lie.
"On September 9, he came in at an unusual time. Mr. Jones usually works in the evenings - he comes in after six. That day he arrived around ten in the morning. He met with Hugo Kaiman and his lawyer. I left early for lunch. When I came back, that's when I found him… dead."
She fell silent, as if she didn't want to say more. Her face was expressionless, but there was panic in her voice - and VanGoff noticed it. He took careful notes of everything Jessica said. The more he heard, the clearer it became: this wasn't just a suicide - it was a tangled web.
His next interview was with Nick Burien, head of the company's security. Tall and stern-faced, Burien sat coldly across from VanGoff, maintaining a professional detachment.
"The police took all the surveillance footage," he said, never breaking eye contact. "The cameras recorded everything as you've heard. But there's one thing that bothers me: if it was suicide, why did his face look so calm? That's not how someone looks before making such a decision."
VanGoff raised a questioning brow. Burien said nothing more, just shrugged thoughtfully.
VanGoff returned to his office, realizing he had learned nothing new beyond what the police already knew.
Attempts to contact Hugo Kaiman and his lawyer led nowhere. On a notepad, VanGoff wrote the names: Jessica Goodin, Nick Burien, Hugo Kaiman - which one of them was hiding the truth? How could he untangle this mystery?
Many thoughts ran through VanGoff's mind, but none brought a clear picture. "If only I could find one loose thread," he thought, "to start unraveling this knot."
"Well, thinking's getting me nowhere. Time to take a walk."