Chapter 2: Esther's Diary (Page 04 to 05)

There's a story I've heard when I was a girl. My grandma told me about it when I heard about the serial killer who's been going around our neighbourhod. I was so scared while going out, even during the day, and waited eagerly for police to catch him. Then my grandma told me a legend about 'The Scarlet Angels' - a group of Heavenly creatures, who deals with the greatest sinners - abusers, rapists, murderers or terrorists - especially those who escape from being punished by human laws. She said that even if people won't be able to catch such a criminal, 'The Scarlet Angels' will get him sooner or later and make him suffer as much as victims did, and such person will be begging to die, regretting the escape from human law's punishment. It was kind of scary, but also very comforting even tough I was a very resonable person and didn't belive in supernatural. After many years I totally forgot about this legend but since I chose to be a detective who chases the worst criminals, I guess I wanted to catch and punish those bad people myself, just like 'The Scarlet Angels'. I also realized recently that since I've never seen any proof of their exsistence so that maybe I thought to myself that we, humans, have to be like those Angels, since they're not real and won't save us. But I have never thought that after so many years I'll be proven wrong...

Anyway, before I'll tell you this story from the beginning till the end, let me introduce myself. My name is Eshter Moore, I'm 29 years old and a Detective Inspector/Investigating Officer in Criminal Investigation Department of the South Wales Police in Cardiff, Wales, United Kingdom. I work at the Cardiff Central police station for almost 6 years now. I have come through a lot of hardships so I could prove to my superiors that I'm fit for a detective, and a good one at that. Now finally, most of them take me seriously and I get more difficult cases because they know that only I can solve them. And even if some people make fun of me secretly, when a serious case appears, everyone suddenly needs my help. Whether they like it or not, they need me. But how did I ended up there, working as a detective?

As a little girl I lived in smaller town near Cardiff, very close to the sea, called Penarth. Most of you probably never heard of it, but that's okay, it's really small. I lived only with mother and grandmother, my father died before I was born and mom don't want to say anything about him, aside from the fact he was from Israel and chose a biblical name for me. I wanted to become a detective after in my town a case of serial killer occured. I was scared, thought what would happen if police won't manage to catch the killer, and then my grandmother told me a legend about 'The Scarlet Angels' who punish severe criminals who escape from justice here, on Earth. But since I never belived in supernatural and thought it was just a fairytale, I believed that humans have to become like those Angels - making their best to catch such criminals, not create superheroes to justify why they don't fight for a better world. That's what motivated me to focus on a dream of being a detective, that's why I was one of the best students in Police Academy and finally made my dream come true - despite many hardships, especially being a woman - mostly thanks to my determination I managed to work in Criminal Investigation Department, and even being promoted to the Inspector at a fairly young age. Now I'm one of the best detective's, along with my friend and partner, Leo. We form the so-called 'Amazing Duo'. People describe my beauty as average, but call me very intelligent, independent, honest and direct, also my endurance and strength knocks many colleagues from the police to their knees. Only Leo knows the slightly softer side of my nature, like the fact I'm very empathetic and willing to help, because only him I can fully trust. Overall, to others we seem very close, some gossip about out romance, but for me Leo is only a close friend, almost like the older brother I had always dreamed of, and I'm sure he also only considers me a friend. His full name is Leopold Evans, and he is 33 years old. Leo is very professional in his work, has an excellent memory and is very physically fit. Handsome and intelligent, he has a lot of admirers, but despite his popularity, Leo is not interested in dating, at least that's what he always says. Also, Leo seems to be very cold and serious, but I know he is a nice guy, just a bit introverted. I'm the only woman Leo pays more attention to which is why I'm not suprised that there are so many rumors, most of them probably made by our jealous female colleagues. Another thing - Leo is very skeptical about all supernatural phenomena, has to see something to believe, but also wants to understand and explain everything using logical thinking. All illogical things he considers impossible to exist, so even though Leo is my best friend, I never mentioned 'The Scarlet Angels' to him before. I didn't feel like getting into that kind of discussion with him, and had an impression it could lead to unnecessary conflicts. Admittedly, not very serious ones and which probably wouldn't take long, but I prefer to avoid them anyway. Why add more stress? Our job is stressful enough.

My mother is Lauren Moore, 48 years old, she raised me alone with the help of her mother and my grandmother. I'm still a little upset since my mom doesn't want to tell me who my father is and she hasn't even revealed this secret to her own mother. Apart from that, however, she is a loving mother, and I know very well that I'm the apple of her eye. Because of that my mom can be overprotective, but I'm sure it's only out of concern and she always tried not to restrict me too much, especially when I've became an adult. Eloise Moore is my grandmother, she is 70 years old and her family name is Reed. She lives in Penarth all her life, was a housewife taking care of Lauren and her older brother, Ethan, while her husband, Nathaniel Moore, worked, maintaining and repairing rich people's yachts. His workshop was located by the sea, near the Penarth Yacht Club. In 1986, when my mom was 16 and uncle Ethan was 18, their father, and my grandfather, died after being stabbed by an unknown person, after he was coming home from work in the evening. A murderer was never found, but my grandmother claims that 'The Scarltet Angels' visited her in dreams, telling the justice have been made and that person is punished. Until then, she had only heard the legends of these Angels, but had come to believe in them ever since having this dream. And that's why she told me the legend of 'The Scarltet Angels' when I was scared of the serial killer going around our neighbourhod. My uncle, Ethan Moore is 50 years old and a soldier in The Royal Welsh, one of the large infantry regiments of the British Army, so I rarely see him. I've heard from my grandmother and mom that now he is a Lieutenant General. Because of his job, I saw him once a year and that's why I hardly remember him. And now, after moving to Cardiff because of work, I see him even less often. My work schedule is almost always fully packed and I rarely have time to visit my mom and grandma in Penarth, and uncle Ethan often visits them when I can't come, so all I can do is call him, sometimes on video call to see his face. Although I have only few memories with my uncle, each of them is good, so he is definitely not a bad person. Grandma says uncle Ethan is just a male version of my mom, except that he is made to be a soldier. Due to his job, my uncle also has no wife or children. Once, when I asked about it, he told me directly that his job carries a risk of death, so he didn't want to make any more people unhappy - it's enough having a mother, sister and niece.

Coming back to my father's case - at first I really wanted to meet him and when I found out that he was dead, I wanted to at least learn something about him. That's why, especially as a teenager, I was very angry with my mother for hiding all information about him. We argued about it all the time, especially after I wanted to ask my grandma about my father and it turned out that she didn't know anything about him either. The only thing I could find out was that my mother met him while on vacation in Egypt, he was from Israel, they spent two weeks together, and when my mother returned home, found out that she was pregnant. I know that during the first years of his life my mother received money from him, and after his death, my father gave all the money he had to me. There was a lot of it, and thanks to my mother's frugality and the fact that she went to work anyway, most of that money was spent on my studies. I was grateful for such a gift, but always wondered why my father never came to see me, at least as long as he was alive. At first it made me angry, because my first thought was that for some reason my father didn't want me, and sent money out of a sense of duty. It was also very likely that he was married and had only a summer affair with my mother. After a while, however, I began to consider that there could be many other reasons. The mere fact that he died almost two years after my birth could indicate that perhaps my father was terminally ill, and that this brief romance with my mother may have been his last love before he died. It would also explain perfectly why my father never came to see me - perhaps he simply couldn't, because his condition had worsened. Of course, it was all my guess, and perhaps I stuck with the second version simply because I just wanted to believe my father was a good man. Besides, he gave me a name, which meant he rather cared about me. And on top of that, it was biblical name, which was certainly important to him as he was from Israel and probably a religious person. Why would he name me if I were just his mistake, made on the spur of the moment? I thought about it for a long time and was more and more sure that the second version was much closer to the truth. 

Well, now that I've introduced myself more or less, it's time to tell my story. If anyone ever reads it, I'm sure that it will be hard to believe and such person will probably consider it a diary of a crazy woman. And it won't surprise me - I can hardly believe it myself and until now I wonder if it's really not just a product of my sick imagination. However, everything that happened in the last few months seemed so real to me... Could this really just be a sign that I have lost my mind? I'd really rather believe that everything I've lived through is real, from start to finish. Just as I believe my father was a good man.

Anyway, here's my story about 'The Scarlet Angels' and the case that might be the last one in my detective career or maybe even the whole life."