The soul of the philosopher

The thinker's fame was so magnetic that even the queen of Sweden was captivated by his theories, longing to receive his teachings first hand. But the peculiarity of the matter was that the classes did not follow a schedule or have a fixed location. So, whether it was after dark or even in the most inhospitable hours of the early morning, the queen would summon the master to give her lessons in her private bedchamber.
From the beginning, the master felt a disdain for the cold of Stockholm and longed for the warm embraces of Paris. That feeling intensified when the coughs became present, and above all, when the sputum appeared. It was clear that the frigid weather and classes in the gloom had left their mark in the form of dreaded pneumonia.
The master's health quickly collapsed, so much so that the king of France decided to send his men in search of him. But when they arrived in Stockholm, the master had already found his last breath. However, something disconcerting had happened: the master's head had been desecrated, his brain ripped out unceremoniously. Upon hearing the news, the king ordered his best investigator, Alfred D'Pies, to take charge of the case and recover the brain of the famed thinker.
D'Pies, personally instructed by the king, encountered numerous obstacles upon his arrival in Stockholm. But before long he realized that, due to beliefs ingrained in the local culture, the inhabitants considered the brain to house the soul of the people, and had probably performed disturbing rituals with the master's brain.
D'Pies visited the court physician in charge of tending to the master in his final hours. The air was thick with mystery in the small room. The detective, with his characteristic wide-brimmed hat and sharp eyes, sat opposite the Dutch physician Johan Van Wullen. The room was decorated with shelves filled with old books and medicine bottles, creating a gloomy and enigmatic atmosphere.
D'Pies leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and fixed his intense eyes on Van Wullen.
-Tell me, doctor," he said in a serious and determined tone, "I need to know the details of the master's agony. Every symptom, every little clue you can give me.
The Dutch doctor nodded solemnly and began to describe precisely the symptoms experienced by the master: nausea, vomiting and chills tormented him during his last days. However, before he could reveal a crucial detail, the sound of the door, being violently opened, interrupted the conversation.
On the threshold stood Dresser, the queen's loyal confidant, with a piercing gaze and a menacing attitude.
-Enough! -Dresser exclaimed in a firm voice. You must not talk about it any further, Dr. Van Wullen. There are boundaries we must not cross.
D'Pies raised an eyebrow, intrigued by Dresser's sudden appearance and his attempt to silence the conversation. However, he concealed his suspicion behind a polite smile.
-We'd better meet some other time, doctor," he said, tucking away the pieces of the puzzle that were beginning to fit together.
The doctor nodded nervously, aware that he had touched on a forbidden subject. D'Pies stood up, adjusted his hat and, before leaving the room, fixed his eyes on Dresser.
-Don't worry, sir. I will soon find out the truth, whatever it takes.
With a determined step, the detective left the room, leaving behind uncertainty and an atmosphere charged with hidden secrets. Dresser's imposing figure stood in the doorway, his eyes fixed on the closed door, knowing that his attempt to silence the truth had only aroused more suspicion in the astute detective.
While waiting for answers from the French court doctors, D'Pies insisted on meeting Van Wullen. The afternoon sun was beginning to set on the horizon, tinting the sky in shades of orange and gold. An eerie silence reigned in Dr. Van Wullen's worn office. Books and medicine bottles lined the shelves, silent witnesses to the mysteries hidden there.
Detective Alfred D'Pies was standing at the doctor's desk, poring over the scattered documents in search of clues. The air was thick with tension and the shadow of danger loomed over them. The door creaked open slowly, revealing the trembling figure of Dr. Van Wullen.
-Detective D'Pies, it was a grave mistake to contact you," Van Wullen whispered, his trembling voice revealing palpable fear. There are more powerful forces at play than I can control. We should not go through with this.
D'Pies looked up, surprised by the doctor's unexpected attitude. The shadow of intrigue came over his face, but he maintained his composure.
-I'm sorry, doctor, but I've already gone too far. The murder of the master and the disappearance of his brain cannot go unpunished. I can't turn back now.
Before they could exchange any more words, the sound of a gunshot echoed in the room. Van Wullen staggered back, bringing his hand to his chest, where a red stain was beginning to spread rapidly. His eyes met D'Pies', full of surprise and pain, before falling to the floor in dead silence.
Detective D'Pies rushed to the doctor's limp body, kneeling beside him in a last desperate attempt to save him. But it was too late. Life was fading fast from Dr. Van Wullen's eyes, taking with it the secrets he had tried to reveal.
D'Pies rose slowly to his feet, his face hardened with determination. The doctor's death only increased his thirst for justice. He looked around the room, searching for any clue that might shed light on this dark puzzle. But he found only silence and an aura of intrigue thickening in the air.
With a firm step, the detective left the doctor's office, leaving behind the lifeless body and the surrounding unknowns. Although the plot became increasingly convoluted, D'Pies was determined to unmask the truth behind the master's murder and the theft of his brain, no matter what dark forces were arrayed against him.
The next morning, he received correspondence from France. What was revealed in the letters allowed him to tie up loose ends and he discovered something curious: the symptoms that the master had presented, such as nausea, vomiting and chills, did not fit those of a common pneumonia. It then became clear to D'Pies that there was a conspiracy to murder the master and steal his soul, leaving it trapped in the icy streets of Stockholm forever.
Upon learning of this revelation, the queen ordered a thorough investigation to cover every nook and cranny. Finally, the master's brain was found and returned to France along with his corpse. However, D'Pies was always left with a nagging doubt in his mind: was it really the master's brain? The mystery lingered in his mind, like an uncertain shadow that he never managed to dispel completely.
Throughout his career as a detective, D'Pies had faced dark secrets and unimaginable plots. However, this particular case, full of intrigue, ancestral beliefs and transcendental conspiracies, would continue to resonate in his thoughts for a long time to come. He would always wonder if he had uncovered the whole truth behind the disappearance of the master's brain or if something more sinister lurked in the shadows of the past.
And so, the enigma of that celebrated thinker and the theft of his brain would become one of the most enigmatic and disturbing unknowns in the career of the astute detective Alfred D'Pies.