The Gold Rush of 1971

By Kayal S

Dear people, who want to delve into the start of our success in the detective industry, be welcome in knowing that it wasn’t a fantasy play script, moreover a gift that entitles the holder to a quest, one that leads to true meaning, after a tad of hard work that is.

So, our tale began,

On the 22nd of March, the year 2024, in Baskerville, a small, minimalist town that boasted a subtle elegance with its delicate embroidery of lavish constructions, amongst the dusky brambles, winding along the path to dawn. One of these Victorian Era wonders was the Saint Cavill, a decipherable representation of the rewards of struggle. 

For a book worthy beginning, here we go.

Nevada: Well, there it is, or I should perhaps say it isn’t!

Ezra: Well, don’t just stand there, Sherlock, detect something?

Jeffrey: I am standing at a wall, quite unfaded, over there, a light patch, less dust, commonly pointing to the existence of a removed frame…

Ezra: Yeah. I see that, and I’d word that last phrase as definitely, that’s why we’re here. I thought you were supposed to be some sort of intricate detective, who could “see through the unseen”?

Jeffrey: Well, I doubt that even Mr.Holmes could make anything of a bare wall. I haven’t got much to go off of here. 

Arthur Kent: I’m sorry, kids but there is nothing much else I can give you, they were very discrete, probably trained in the art, left no clues nonetheless.

Nevada: Okay, then what else can you give us, maybe we can reconstruct the occurrence , to be able to visualise what happened, I’ve seen that done in some detective films, I think?

Jeffrey: Good Idea, we are on spot.

Arthur Kent: Okay, well I was in my good armchair and was.., reading, as I was then. There the painting was in the gallery, locked up and everything, there were two of them when I flung open the door (I was alarmed when something was knocked over), and one a bit smaller was near the painting and the bigger one was holding a torch and cutting the ties and working very carefully, even when I intervened.

Jeffrey: How were they dressed, anything particularly peculiar?

Arthur Kent: Hmmm, I think it was just the usual dark clothes cat burglars wear.

Nevada: We need you to remember absolutely anything that sets them apart, their behaviour, actions… 

Ezra:-interrupts- Something!

Arthur Kent: Well, I don’t think it will be of much use, but the smaller one kept fiddling with his hat, wool as I recall, something I’ve seen sailors wear. And his hands, they were quite strange, very white and a strange scent to them.

Ezra: Okay, “mastermind” we have something here. Here is the part you come up with a brilliant stream of deductions. 

Jeffrey: All-right, here we are… The crime was carried out by two men. One is a professional criminal with several convictions for robbery, and the other has no previous convictions, a fairly junior job in the antiques business and a very nervous disposition. And what do we miss: the smaller of the art thieves, had bright orange values in his hair tones.

Nevada: And how are you so sure of that, super sleuth?

Jeffrey: It’s the elementary science of deduction, an augmented version of Sherlock Holmes’ theorised, state of the art, aptitude based and competent, feat of genius.

Ezra: And, how do I suppose you can validate that?

Jeffrey: Mere child’s play. The talks of Sir Kent, state a whole narrative, a cosmos, vast in its own terms, but the articulate yet ambiguous details tucked within are, surely not visible to the naked eye, but of course to the well trained iris and a practised hand- shows plastic bag with a single strand of vivid and velvet tangerine hair- it’s as facile as forward thinking!

Nevada: And what might that be?

Jeffrey: This my dear friend, is what leads me to believe my accuracy in dictating the identity of the intruders with such incriminating attributes, as well as my soon-to-be crime authorization evidence to prove that this is far bigger than a few abstract brushstrokes on a hearty canvas of pulled linen.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________

88 Bridgend Pier Road,

Dauntsey,

Time: Friday, 22 March 2024, 20:47: 05 

After a period of perilously cliff-clinging time spent upon the duration of attention, accumulation and analyzation, we began to critique our answer by applying various substantial forms of authenticating it. Us, the three adolescents living in a thoroughly contemporary illustration of the world, began by racking our brains over documents that led us back previous to the 18th century, with no luck of attestation.

But that was before, an eminent discovery in our data retrieval was constructed by piecing together articles with the timestamp of 1971. They orchestrated a symphony of updates upon the “unforeseen” abundance of prosperity and affluence within the opulently baroque walls of the Cavill residence, which to state resembled more of a mediaeval castle.

Nevada: I thought the Cavill’s were always quite well off?

Ezra: This is the first, I’m hearing of any burst in their riches.

Jeffrey: Pay attention, you two, this is the first they mention the painting: “Breaking News: The headlines captured by the Cavill family, as they recruit a historic artefact in the form of oil dyes trickled through cotton, to add to their collection of glowing and growing beauty, that is definitely not priceless.” 

Nevada: -scrolls further down the site- Before 1970 there is no mention of the Cavill family’s fame or fortune, not even their names, it’s just blank. 

Ezra: And striking in 1971, barely six months after, the town journals are flooded with their and only their titles.

Nevada: But it is nice to know that Mr. Parker stuck with them through thick and thin, it must have been hard working for someone who can’t afford to pay you, even with appreciation.

Jeffrey: Won’t pay you?

Ezra: The family seem pretty miserly after their debut and before, well they just don’t seem very popular among the crowds.

Jeffrey: Case closed…

______________________________________________________________________

So far, to describe the state it can be comprehended as currently Sir House Cavill a business man whose merchandise reaches across over ancestral trends, as during the pinnacle of the industrial revolution the family had been one of the core mining faculties, specialising in copper, and iron and contributing raw material in a vast trade ranging across borders and seas and a major participant in the global supply chain. But it was a modest business, never revealing too much glory and not much salary. But soon according to most knowledge their currencies had been saved and were now being expedited on objects of sincere value and discrepancy, more than a million a piece, perhaps. Including mystical artistic expressions in the form of canvas or cotton, silk or sculpture, fabric or fresco. One of the historic artists is what was “taken” in the burglary, but the inquisition was where the money came from to buy these extravagant wares when before the 70s they were practically penniless.

Cavill industry,

16 Layburn Court,

Trecastle,

078 4042 6133

Time: Wednesday,19 June 1971, 11:30:51, Victorian Era

Miner 1: Mr. Cavill, Cavill sir, there’s something you need to see.

Miner 2: Yes sire, this is a marvellous development in ours and your careers. It may change the nature of your business’s travel.

 House Cavill: Outside the door peasants, and don’t dare take up that attitude once again, as I am the nature that makes the emerald bills travel to your pockets. 

Elvira Cavill: Ugh, you make me sick as you tune your scratchy voices as if your messages have any value when  scraped from the bottom of the bowl.

House Cavill: SILENCE…

Arthur Kent (manager): Sir, I really do request you see this. It is a stunning achievement.

House Cavill:-stands up and walks toward the manager and whispers to him- If what I set eyes on, is deemed unworthy, then you will see that owning 100s of square kilometres of dirt and swamp has more than one benefit.

Inside the mine caverns

Time: 12:01:34 at the crack of dawn through twilight.

House Cavill:-trudges through the mine catacombs at midnight, till a dead end-

Elvira Cavill:-disgusted- And where is this supposed miracle in the family busine… -turns to the left to see piles and piles of gold and riches shining through the damp, darkness swallowing every inch of light-

House Cavill: -bends to caress one of the raw ores, and picks it up- It’s real. It’s real! IT’S REAL!-turns to face the miners- You shall not utter a word to the directorate, and if any of your hearts have the courage within to do so, keep in mind I am aware of every single most hidden secret about you and the ones whom you treasure. From this moment on, I wield the power to intonate your fate.

Arthur Kent (manager): But sir, we are only authorised by the executive regime to extract ores of iron and copper, perhaps a few more metals but…

Elvira Cavill: -comes to the throat of the manager- You shall listen, you shall follow, and you may speak only when SPOKEN TO!

House Cavill: -stops Elvira- You will order your men to start now and with the utmost undercover of cloak and dagger, remove these clusters from the soil and into the building. 

Arthur Kent (manager): -huffs with a hint of fear, and gulps- But where do you want me to put them?

______________________________________________________________________

Cavill industry,

16 Layburn Court,

Trecastle,

078 4042 6133

Time: Saturday, 23 March 2024, 11:30:51, Present Day

Jeffrey: They really are in the walls.

Arthur Kent:-In shackles- How would you know that?

Nevada: By this- holding a gold bar in her palm-, the police extracted them from a mound of plastic bags in the truck outside, how do you explain that!

Arthur Kent: Simple, I never wanted to take the gold all for myself. As the manager of that mine, I knew everyone, I had spent enough time together with them to realise their suffering, but House never understood that, he had the emotional range of a cube of sugar and empathy could not be accommodated within it. I knew it was illegal too, I wanted to clear my name, but he threatened my family. I wanted to make sure he got what he rightfully deserved and that the wealth he refrained and looted from underneath us was distributed to who it belonged to.

Ezra: By setting up a decoy and distracting us by installing a fake art theft and even leaving fingerprints and hair samples behind for us to find in a building that’s not your own property, and taking the gold behind backs without turning heads and stashing it in a truck to get away, that’s all illegal on it’s own, that makes you just as worse and wrong in methods as him.

Arthur Kent: I know, and you kids are right in mind and heart, so go ahead put me behind the bars, but get that money where it belongs.

Jeffrey: Well, I can promise you that.

And that’s our story.

By Kayal S