Murder in the City of Marylane
07. Terror (2)
Hi. [inbox]
Guess Who's?
to me
Enjoying package?
Reply | Reply to all | Forward
I frowned. It turns out that the owner of this email account has been sending me emails for a long time. It is a threat.
Select all.
Delete.
All right, I don't care. I didn't want to bother and decided to ignore it.
“Why did this guy bother killing a rat, putting it in a box, and sending it to me?”
Is he lacking a job?
---
I stretched my body in my chair. I glanced at the clock on my phone. Time shows at five o'clock in the afternoon. We've been investigating anything about Mort, or any of the people he may have been involved with. But we haven't produced anything else.
At least we got a little lead. A man with a butterfly tattoo. Regarding our new captain, we have not been working together for a long time. But I think we are close enough.
I stood up and went to the kitchen to make coffee. We have a room like that in the office. Kitchen sort.
I let out a heavy sigh as I knew the bottled coffee we used to drink was nowhere in place. Discharged.
“Did no one buy it?” nagging me while walking to my chair, picking up the jacket hanging on the back of the chair.
“What's up?” Harry asked.
“Coffee exhausted.” I answered.
“Then, where are you going?”
“Buy it to a cafe near here.”
“Buy me one, as usual. Ah, buy Dean too,” said Harry.
I grunt. “Good.”
“Espresso,” says Sean suddenly says order. I'm turning. I didn't offer him anything. He showed an innocent expression.
I nodded—forced.
Coincidentally, I was looking for coffee from the cafe we used to visit.
“Oi, Juan. You want to buy coffee at the cafe there?” I looked again when someone called. He's Archer, captain of the next team, whose team table is not far from my team table.
“Ya,” I said while nodding.
“Buy us too.”
I came over and put my hand on her.
“Whatever?”
“Not you paying?” tanyakanya.
“Why should I?” askaku.
“OK, alright,” said. He took out his wallet and gave me some money. “Americano and esspreso, two.” each
I walk on this pretty quiet sidewalk. Not many people walk on this sidewalk. I put my foot forward. The cafe we used to visit was there. Not too far, but not that close. You can get there on foot.
Suddenly my steps slowed down. I suddenly thought of how our team leader, Mort, died right before my eyes. It was like a broken cassette, repeated over and over in my brain. I don't know how hard I've forgotten it, I don't think I can.
But, why?
What did Mort do until someone killed him?
What happened to Mort's past?
Yes, ‘kan?
Then I woke up. I just realized I was in front of the cafe. I may have blocked the road.
I'm about to enter the cafe. Suddenly someone shouted.
“Awas!”
A few seconds after someone said that one word, I was pushed. We fell on the sidewalk. I was going to scold him. However, I paled when I heard the sound of shards. I saw the shards of the pot. He saved me from the falling of that pot that came from the clay.
I looked up. There's nobody there. People came, this incident became the center of attention.
I look next to me. A woman pushed me. I stood up, approached him. I saw his hand being scratched. I'm sure it happened when he pushed me when he was about to help me.
The woman who had brown hair pouted and sat down, looking at her scratched hands. I stretched out my hand, trying to help her stand up.
He just looked at me.
Silent.
He let my hand out. He's still staring at me. I was either confused to pull my hand back or not. But, he finally welcomed my hand.
“You okay?” tanyakanya.
“Ah, yes. I—”
“You all right?” A cafe employee came and cut my words to ask me how I was doing.
“I'm fine,” I replied. I looked up, right where the pot was dropped. There's nobody there. A multi-storey cafe with a balcony for its customers. The balcony has a row of pots placed on top of the fence. But, is it possible that no other visitors there suspected him?
Is this the sender of the package and the terror message? If so, in that short time he should have left. He probably already planned this.
“I'm sorry for this incident.” The officer bowed.
“Do you have a surveillance camera in this cafe?”
“The surveillance camera was broken yesterday, we haven't had time to fix it. I'm sorry.”
“Alright, forget it.”
Some of the people who saw this incident slowly dispersed. Other cafe employees also cleaned up the drop of the pot in front of their cafe. I looked around, the woman who helped me was gone.
“This is your coffee.” I said to Archer after laying out four copies of his order with a slight roughness. I walked straight to my team.
“What's with him? She's like a woman who's coming months alone,” she murmured.
“Hei.” He turned around with his chair. I looked at him sharply. “I heard you.”
“Thank you for the coffee,” he said, diverting the conversation and turning back to me by turning the wheeled chair.
“You sick?” Harry asked as I distributed the coffee I had bought with my money to them.
“Thank you, Juan.” Sean said as I gave the coffee.
“You're pale,” comments Dean later.
“I'm almost dead, I guess.” I sat on my chair, leaning my back on the back of the chair.
“Why?”
“A pot fell and almost hit my head,” I said.
“Maybe it's your unlucky day.”
“That might just be an accident.” I refuted.
“But, are you okay?” Sean asked.
I nodded in response.
For the time being.
Ah, I haven't even thanked that woman yet.
