THE YELLOW FOLDER
Written By - Prabir Rai Chaudhuri
© All Copyright Reserved By Prabir Rai Chaudhuri- 2023
It is midnight.
The car was driving slowly down the avenue lit by the streetlamps. A district of pretty villas preceded by neat gardens.
Three men on board. Thieves. Spies, specifically.
- Stop it, said the chief, seated in the back. Anthony, you're leaving. You see the house, there, opposite. You find the yellow folder in the trunk of their office and you bring it back. It contains incriminating evidence against the president of our country. A dangerous dictator, but he pays us well. Here is the electronic device that will allow you to easily discover the code to open this safe. We are waiting for you around the corner. No need to be spotted if a police car passes.
Anthony crossed the street and observed the villa. No light.
He approached the front door. Locked, of course. And all the windows was closed on this side.
He walked along the left facade.
On the first floor, he saw a half-open window. But impossible to reach it by climbing the wall.
Two cherry trees were growing in the garden. A ladder stood against one of them.
The thief took gloves from his jacket pocket and put them on. Then he grabbed the ladder and leaned it against the wall. He climbed the rungs and opened the window wider.
He stepped over her.
A little boy was sleeping in the bedroom. An almost all-black cat watched over him, lying on the blanket.
He meowed.
- Shut up, you filthy beast, whispered Anthony.
He crossed the room quietly and opened the door. He walked down the hall. The cat followed him.
The thief came down the stairs and headed for the parents' office.
He observed the well-closed safe, then stuck the electronic device near the digital button that controls the opening. He twirled it with his left hand, looking at the luminous screen which showed him the code in a few moments.
He opened the trunk under the watchful gaze of the cat.
- Here is the yellow folder, murmured the man.
But Anthony and his accomplices did not know that this safe was connected to the local police station and that when it was opened, a bell rang in their office.
Our man grabbed the yellow folder and closed the trunk.
He walked towards the front door. He tried to open it by squeezing the handle, but without success. And no key in sight.
- Damn, said Anthony.
He looked at the cat.
- Stop following me.
The man returned to the stairs. He mounted it four at a time and entered the room where the little boy was sleeping.
At the same moment he heard police car sirens tearing through the silence of the night. They were still far away.
"Damn it," the man muttered. They arrive.
He hesitated for a moment. Then he grabbed the child and hugged him.
- You will serve as my shield, you.
The child woke up and began to cry.
- Hush! I'll take you to your mom and dad, lied the thief.
He hoisted it onto his shoulders, climbed out the window, and climbed down the ladder.
He intended to pretend to be a nice dad who, despite the late hour, returns home with his little kid in his arms.
A police car zoomed down the street.
Anthony smiled and waved. The policemen, reassured, moved away.
The thief came up to his accomplices.
- What are you doing with this child? asked the chief.
- With him in my arms, I avoided handcuffs and prison. We take him.
The bandits' car drove off and disappeared into the night.
The police, even the scientific division, arrived at the scene of the tragedy, floundering.
No lead to find the stolen documents and especially Emmanuel, the kidnapped little boy. No fingerprints. The thief, certainly a professional, had left no trace behind him.
The next day, many journalists were waiting outside the door of the parents' house, hoping for a scoop announcing good news. But in vain.
For forty-eight hours now, numerous teams had been searching the neighborhood, even with police dogs. No witnesses. Nobody had seen anything at this late hour when many people stay at home in front of their television screen or in their room.
Photos of the little boy were plastered everywhere, in the streets, in the shops of the district and beyond. They were broadcast on the screens at the time of the television news. In vain.
Emmanuel's parents were beginning to despair.
- To say that their cat has seen everything, said one of the policewomen observing the animal...
- Yes, but he won't talk, pointed out one of his colleagues.
- Wait, guys, launched one of the youngest of the team. An idea comes to me. I live in a village on the edge of the Grands Ormes forest. I seem to remember that a ten-year-old girl lives there with her parents. The father is a lumberjack. The mother takes care of the customers, but their daughter has an extraordinary gift. She can speak and understand the language of certain animals. Maybe she could interrogate the cat! Let's try to meet her and get permission from her parents.
Sophia was playing on the swing that her father installed for her near the shed where he stores his wood. She had just finished studying all day with her mom. She was surprised to see a police car arrive.
- Hello, young lady, said one of them. Are your parents there?
- Yes, she answered. Come.
She ushered them into the house. The commissioner detailed the situation and mentioned the research that was stalled. She spoke of the cat.
Right away, our friend was delighted to lend a hand to the police to help these poor people find their child.
She got into the police car with the full consent of her parents.
As soon as she arrived at Emmanuel's house, she greeted the little boy's mom and dad and sat down next to the cat on the sofa in their living room. She caressed him then took him in her arms and whispered in his ear for several minutes. You could hear meowing.
- Here, said Sophia. He has seen it all. He even followed the thief in his movements. He saw this man come in at night through the half-open window of your child's room. He followed that thief into your office. He witnessed the opening of the trunk and the theft of a yellow folder. He watched the thief who hesitated for a moment and then went back up the stairs to Emmanuel's room. He, too, heard the police sirens approaching your house. He saw this man grab your son and then walk out the window.
Our friend was silent for a moment.
- But while bending down, he lost a key which is still under the wardrobe in your child's room. Finally, he said that this man's fingers smell like fish.
- He couldn't smell them, since the thief was wearing gloves, pointed out a policeman.
- No, said Sophia. The cat does not distinguish between fingers and gloves. They must have smelled like fish.
- Magnificent, launched the chief commissioner. There are only a few fishmongers in the region. We will find him.
"And even better," added his colleague, who was coming down the stairs and had just bent down in Emmanuel's room to pick up the key with his gloves on. She has a nice fingerprint. We have this bandit who probably works in a fish market.
- Alas, it does not say where he is hiding for the moment...
Sophia left the house proud and smiling.
The many journalists present photographed her. They had their scoop.
The next day, the photo of our friend appeared in the newspapers with a dreamy title:
World Premiere! The police are following the trail of a gang of thieves thanks to the testimony of a cat that a ten-year-old girl was able to question because she can speak and understand the language of animals.
Our friend was very proud to show this article to her parents, and was delighted to tell her good friend Mathieu about it, as soon as she met him.
But alas, bandits also read newspapers.
- The three of us are going to end up in prison because of this kid, said the chief. We must react.
Two days passed.
Sophia was playing on the swing on this sunny late afternoon. She saw a car coming and stopping.
More customers for my parents, she thought.
Two men came out. Anthony and the chef. Revolvers in hand.
They approached our friend and, at gunpoint, forced her into their vehicle. There, a third man slipped a hood over his head and eyes.
They drove off.
Sophia felt her tears flow. She couldn't see anything, but she understood that she was being taken away.
The car stopped after quite a long drive. They took our friend out, after removing her hood.
She saw abandoned buildings. It looked like factory sheds.
He was led down a concrete staircase, then down a very dark hallway. The bandits opened a door and pushed our friend into a cellar. They slammed the door behind her and slid a lock.
Sophia saw a little boy sitting on a cot. He was crying.
- Immanuel? she says.
- Yes! Are you going to drive me to Mom and Dad's?
- Your parents and the police are looking for you. They will find us eventually.
Finally, I hope so, thought our friend without daring to tell the little boy.
She looked around her. No end in sight. She saw no window. Just an air vent, not very big, near the ground, behind the cot.
The door opened and two armed men entered. The chef and Anthony. They addressed themselves to Sophia.
- Here is a pencil and some paper. You will write on it that you lied. You can't talk to animals. And then you sign. Don't be silly. Nobody knows where you are and we won't find you.
They went out and locked the door again.
Emmanuel looked at our friend with eyes full of hope, like a little brother who counts on his big sister to get him out of trouble and help him.
- We're going to run away from here, said Sophia. But how?
She shook the doorknob, but to no avail.
Turning around, she stared at the air vent. She slid the bed down and looked carefully. She saw four rusty, tight screws, one at each corner of the rectangle, that held the fence in place.
Our friend touched the front pocket of her overalls. She felt the presence of her penknife.
Mom and Dad want her to carry it with her always, especially when she leaves the house to run in the woods. The bandits hadn't thought to search her.
She grabbed her penknife and released the screwdriver blade. She bent down after making sure no one was coming by listening at the door and she tried to unscrew the first screw.
It was not easy. It was rusty and very tight, but she managed to free it. She freed the other three and removed the grate. She put it under the bed.
- Come on, Emmanuel. Follow me. We'll go through there. It has to lead somewhere.
Sophia slipped through the narrow opening and crawled through a low, dirty tunnel. Quite quickly, after a yard, it emerged into a larger, rounder sewer. She was able to sit up there on condition that she lowered her head.
Emmanuel followed. She helped him by taking him by the hand.
They followed this dirty and smelly hose in almost total darkness.
Ten meters further, they stopped under a manhole closed by a grid. Rusty rungs, sunk into the blackened brick wall, made it easy to reach.
Sophia went up there first and had the happy surprise of easily lifting the heavy bars of the gate. She slid it aside, then pulled herself up and stepped onto the concrete floor.
She looked around her. No one in sight.
It was surrounded by very tall warehouses which seemed abandoned. The driveway was strewn with various debris, mostly iron bars, but also empty lemonade cans. Old barrels, ranged along the walls, seemed to await a better fate.
Our friend helped the little boy to get out of the sewer in turn.
Then, holding each other by the hand again, they walked cautiously, avoiding knocking with their feet the scrap metal lying on the ground, so as not to make a noise.
They headed for tall trees. A forest, perhaps, thought the young girl.
They were lucky not to meet anyone.
Sophia did not hesitate. She passed under the trees and plunged into this wood she did not know. But the most important thing, thought our friend, was to leave these places where they had been held prisoner.
They walked quickly, however avoiding hurting themselves on the clumps of brambles. They disappeared under the ferns. So much the better! We couldn't see them.
They walked along a stream for a hundred yards.
Sophia decided to cross this small river. This could detect possible dogs. They passed through the cold water which soaked them to the stomach.
- The bad guys won't find us here, said the young girl to reassure Emmanuel a little and encourage him. Let's walk. We'll get out of this wood as soon as we can. But for now,
They went on like this for almost an hour, progressing blindly.
Twice they crossed a muddy stream. Further on they had to wade through swamps.
Then they emerged onto a dirt road.
Sophia chooses to follow her. She kept them away from the abandoned factory warehouses and especially thieves. Our friend walked as fast as the little boy could, sometimes turning to make sure we weren't following them.
She took Emmanuel further on her back because the tired little man was slowing her down.
They finally reached the edge of these woods and saw some villas.
Sophia headed for the first, still carrying her little companion on her back.
She rang.
An old man opened the door and looked at them, astonished.
Our friend explained in a few words their adventure and their flight into the woods.
The man, a certain Jean-Philippe according to what she had just read on the bell, made them sit in his living room, closed the shutters and called the police.
- I saw your faces on TV, he said. We were talking about kidnapped children. I will also call your parents to reassure them.
Sophia knew her family's number by heart.
He served them hot chocolate and opened a box of cookies.
Very quickly, a police car arrived, followed by another where Emmanuel's parents were.
What a moving scene of tears of happiness when the little boy jumped into the arms of mom and dad!
Sophia was not long in finding her family who arrived with a third vehicle.
Our friend, however exhausted by all these events, still had the courage to lead the police through the woods to the sinister abandoned buildings. She showed them the sewer grate through which she had managed to escape by taking Emmanuel.
The three thieves did not expect to be surprised so quickly. They had no idea of the courage, endurance and resourcefulness of which a ten-year-old child like Sophia is capable.
Back at Emmanuel's house, everyone warmly congratulated her.
The recovered yellow folder was returned to the parents of the little boy.
The valuable information it contained was disseminated in time and made it possible to confuse and arrest one of these cruel dictators in a distant land.
Well done Sophia!
