"Another conflict between spouses that I have to calm down. The third one I go to this week. You'd say I'm a social worker for family conflicts. And this weather ...", Officer Gangsley complained to himself, because he had no one else to complain to.
Even though he could stay at the warm headquarters with his cigars, he decided to leave with the other two without saying anything. When he took the oath to protect anyone in need, he didn't set the condition to be there only when he liked it, or when it was clear and warm outside. No, the condition was: whenever needed.
And anyone would agree with him - who could live thinking that he could rescue someone in a difficult situation, but he decided not to do it? Any situation, even trivial at first, could eventually degenerate remarkably, so Mr. Gangsley decided to do everything in his power to save that misunderstanding between spouses.
Not only once had he saved a man's life, arrived in time where his presence was necessary. And on top of that, these two - he pointed to the two officers – can't find their way when the sky is clear, map in their hand, not to mention this kind of weather, thought the experienced Scotland Yard officer, Gangsley Taylor.
Suddenly, Officer Jones began to express anger and his thoughts moved lips surrounded by beard and moustache, in the rhythm of cold drops fallen from the clouds, colour of darkness.
"I don't get the point of these people who, although they hardly manage to support their families, always find money to buy liquor that takes their minds. Then they can't help blowing off steam on each other. I feel like ..."
But he stopped. He looked confused left and right, then questioningly raised his narrow shoulders, as he did almost every time they went on a mission, trying to tell the others they were a little lost.
Officer Gangsley, with his calm nature, never discouraged, restored hope to the other two:
"We turn right at the first crossroads. We're close. My senses don't deceive me."
Mr. Gangsley's senses were based in fact on the information he got from Mrs. Stone, who carefully told him that to get to the house where the two spouses argued, it was necessary to take a turning to the right in Sun Street, at the junction of Sun Street and Constellation Street. When they reached the end of the former street they definitely found Moon Street. And they could soon arrive to the house in question.
"So you'll be quickly here," said Mrs. Stone. And she also told them to hurry.
The discussion and indications from police station callers like talkative Mrs. Stone's encouraged Mr. Gangsley Taylor to boast with fine smell and sight like a feline's.
But even so bragger at times, Officer Gangsley always managed to show the two disoriented guys the way. He was sometimes surprised himself about his ability.
Who knows, maybe I really have some qualities of a feline, he giggled whenever everything went well.
After all today, if these skills really existed, they were deeply lost somewhere in Mr. Gangsley's persona. They didn't help him too much, because he didn't notice that curious apparition whom they overcame running and who was now at about fifteen feet away from them.
And that dubious shadow that seemed to be man, came now unobserved behind them, taking advantage of the dullness when no one could notice him.
Even if something urged Gangsley Taylor to stop from time to time to look back, as he still felt there was a presence behind them, he quickly came to his senses and continued his journey without doing that. He had no time for nonsense thinking they're chased by ghosts or other baffling, evil creatures.
So he stopped only once to see if there was a man following them, because it couldn't be something else. Withal, as he couldn't see anything but only remained behind the others, he gave up doing that.
There's no point, Gangsley, you fool. Surely your mind is playing tricks on you because of the weather ... What kind of human has the courage to venture outside in this weather and try to mess with some law enforcement officers from Scotland Yard? Who are also armed above all ..., the officer reproached himself for the crap crossing his mind at that time.
However, if he noticed around the still lit streetlights that shadow moving gingerly not to be seen behind them, perhaps he'd change the opinion deeply imprinted in his mind. He'd think again if he really saw that morbid face.
As for the views, they might change both in his mind and in others', taking into account the events that would follow that rainy spring night.
That dead silence was finally interrupted by Officer Jones:
"Here we are. Moon Street. You're a true phenomenon, Gangsley", he squeezed out a smile that seemed to say we are saved, buddies.
After glancing at Officer Taylor, as if he hoped to discover miraculously, his peculiar ability, to lead them to the right destination every time, the officer continued:
"There must be number 3. The lights are on."
Gangsley gazed at the indicator at the crossroads right next to him, barely clinging to a screw, about to fall at any moment. Indeed, the sign said Moon Street.
"I told you," the sneaky weasel said.
He looked at the house that was different from the others. A nice, well-kept house. Moreover, it had two lamps in the small, crowded courtyard, gracefully arranged. Even number 3 that was now in a reversed position, who knows why, forming the letter m, looked in good shape, as if someone recently clasped it to the little gate at the entrance. Very clean, as if it were new, but still predicted something sad, since it was overturned.
It was impossible not to notice, at least on a sunny day, that the rest of the houses in the area were plastered so badly that even the bricks could be seen. If by chance you had a look at some of them, you'd wonder how come the light beyond them didn't get through the holes in the walls so old and damaged they were.
All the same, something was strange to even the most rational people on Earth, like Officer Gangsley Taylor when he looked at that house. It seemed to him that in front of the house there was a wolf. No ... I don't think I can see well. First that apparition ... and now. It can't be possible ... it's a huge dog for sure, so old that he can't move anymore. That's why he seems to be seated, looking at the lighted windows, with closed curtains, apparently trying to make out what is going on behind them - the officer thought. Damn weather, it makes you go crazy, Taylor. Snap back…! he kept arguing with himself.
Meanwhile, something didn't allow him to properly snap back. And that something was the image probably common any other day, not that rainy and cold night.
Near that dog there was a frightened cat cramped in a small crack in the old, mouldy wall, at less than three steps away from him. The cat looked at him with fear as if she thought her end was there. Still, the hound didn't even care about her, which was strange.
Instead of doing what any canine representative of the species would do - actually crazy enough to sit outside at that time - try to warm up his body running after that cat or at least bark and howl at her to keep alive the never ending game between dogs and cats, this strange big guy sat quietly, spying the house at number 3 on Moon Street. As if the fate of humanity depended on that.