Once upon a crime.
Blame it on the mime
A clear whistle accompanies that man walking toward the international newsstand. He limps slightly his way.
"Hello Mister!" wishes cheerily the tenant of the kiosk. The red faced, red-handed lady pulls out a coffee from under the counter, extending it to the regular patron.
"Is it not a good day?"
"A good one, indeed. A good one." He pronounces as he takes the coffee.
For her, he smiles back, guiltily looking every where around by under the cap.
The plump blonde giggles.
"So, one of each?"
The tall brown guy nods slowly, sipping in the coffee. His glance is deported to the left, downward.
"Nice twin you got there, Ma’am." He offers to a woman.
This one is totally startle and came in between the giant and the two little girls dressed in dark navy clothes.
"Alright. I am not eating children, yet. Right Oriel?" He asks, winking to the tenant aside, now.
The woman pushes on the two little girls, shooing them and her away in a brief instant.
"What a rude woman!" expresses Oriel.
The oversized man shrugs. "I feel there is more into this than just rudeness, my dear. Did the girls appeared alright for you, beside the fact they are twins, I mean?" His voice is emotionless, but in his eyes there is a light of curiosity glimmering.
"Now that you ask me..." The salesgirl leans over her counter to look toward where the trio vanished. She can’t see them, of course. By now, they are but dots at the end of the street, but she points. "There's something. I can’t put my fingers on."
Like for a lot of things happening in the street, the brown dressed man shrugs to it and soon it is dismissed.
"Here is your money..." He makes before rolling each dailies and papers and placing them around his thin (for his size) waist, like if it was a belt of dynamite sticks.
He closes the long suede coat over it and places a hand on his cowboy hat, slightly inclining it in salute to Oriel.
"Yeah, go get hiding before the freak show begins." She drops with a laugh..."Monster." She adds teasingly.
The giant smirks and flips before limping away again. His pace brings him in the shadow of an alley. Peacefully, he walks. Not even the cat jumping out the trash can alarm him.
He place the coffee cup on a nearby mortar windowsill then he rather kneels to pet it, rummaging in his pocket.
"There you go, Mister Pell." He murmurs before the cat stoles the food, biting him accidentally on the thumb. Yet again, the man stays impassible to it.
He raises, rummages once more in the pocket, holding up a peroxide bottle. The liquid is poured on the thumb while he looks the other way. He shakes the hand a moment after he closes the bottle.
"That’ll teach you… scaring the alley cat, monster..." hurls an old lady, from a window in the backdrop.
As he turns, the window is shut close. "Good Morning, Hannah." He wishes politely with the same move of the hat he did with Oriel.
"GO away, Freak!" expresses the muffled voice of the elderly shielded behind the, oh so much safer, flowered taffeta curtains.
The shoulders of the man goes up then down, again. The bite is already healed, but a quick glance to the hand reminds something to the mutant.
He scratches his head. "Ah yes…" he mutters. And he moves back heading for where he left his coffee.
"Pervert!" yelps Hannah just before the sound of a broken glass sheds the stillness of this Fall morning.
As he grabs the cup, he realizes something is flying right at him.
The brown coffee spread all over the suede outfit as he jumps back. A metallic sound provoke a titter from him.
"Hannah, be careful…" he warns her with his baritone voice. "You'll get a cut on your wrist again."
The curtains move and the shrew whimpers behind it.
Placing the tip of his foot on the handle of the object, he gives it the tap it misses to flip in the air and land in his hand. He approaches the window, his boots making the shattered pieces of glass crack like popcorns under them. He poses moment, peering up through the flapping curtains. Tiptoeing, he disposes the frying pan on the sill of the aperture.
"Thanks to remind me I am not tall enough to see in your apartment, but next time , Hannah, do yourself a favor. Would you? Throw a used one. Otherwise your wallet will get a hole in it." He kindly remarks.
"I am calling the police…" she retorts with the tone of one scared enough to call the bishop himself for a witch-hunt.
"Of course, wonderful idea. Go ahead, Hannah." Speaks the giant, all amused. "That'll do company for my ol'me. Not a lot of people are showing up for tea, nowadays."
Whistling, he diminishes in stature as he walks casually down the dark aisle till he stops, tilting his head to pass through a door. The long corridor is dark. Graffiti wallpaper the entire surface. Some yellowish lights flicker. The man wanders side to side, to prevent his chin to hit the suspended outlets. Door after door, not a window till he motions around a corner to a distinct covered way.
Same décor but a clear window on the left side. Some sunrays flow through it, playing with the dust in the air. That is where the man halt. A clear-view lace curtain adorn the window over the door. The only thing visible is the opposite opening across the room that extend beyond that locked entrance. That is where the sun is soaked in the building.
With the key, the gentleman manipulates the doorknob like a delicate flower. It winces then open. Lowering his head to clear the doorway, he closes it gradually behind him. The click of the latch is so soft that a water dropping in a lavatory would have make much a noise.
The shadow of his head is seen on the other side, getting away from the hall. The hat fall on a beaten couch with the suede coat. The renter drops his key into a jar already holding small changes and diverse little things normally found in the deep of a pocket.
The room is quiet. The clock is ticking. The only other noise is the pace of the student, strolling toward the stove, he takes the kettle on it and checks in the hole before turning the stove plate on.
The aluminum container is brought to the sink, he adds water till it overflows. He then shift it to pour out about a cup. Before long, the kettle is place back over the stove.
He proceeds, afterward, to undo the belt of newspapers he got around his waist. One by one they are unfolded and place like a deck of cards over the miniature working space between the sink and the stove. Placing one hand aside the other on it would occupied all of it. But that is enough large to flip open the newspaper. Plus, the light coming from the stove's hood fan is about the best he can get in that bachelor.
Something catches suddenly his attention. A picture over what there is a title in red-orange: Have you seen Haley? His hand brushes his still juvenile chin . Only some traces of a beard to be makes a scratching noise when he passes over the patch of it. He switches to play gingerly on his left hear ring. "I'll be changes in owl if this'd not one of the twin I saw." He mumbles mindfully.
A knock on the door distracts him away from the realization that not only one, but several headline present the young Haley. He chases it from his mind and here he is again behind, staring through the window.
"Just in time!" He happily exclaims.
He swings it open at a leisurely pace.
On the other side, a half-bald man is showing something while the second person with him wait not to be invited to get in.
"Hi Enan!" She makes, entering further. "This is Ilario Smallaugh. My I borrow your bathroom?" she questions, already stepping in the room.
Enan places his left hand on the door upper frame and bows to peep below it. The fat inspector is there, confused, peering in front of him, holding his wallet out, open to show the plate in it.
"An inspector from Tranquil? " Saying it, his eyes flicker toward the pile of newspapers. He blinks momentarily before returning to the bald man."Hum. Enter, enter…"invites the giant clearing the doorway.
"I was waiting for you, Rylie. But what with the big guy, there?" he inquiries before standing all his height and walking back to the stove where the kettle is now dancing.
"Tea's ready, as I hear…" shouts the woman from the other side of the bathroom door.
"It is. Should I introduce myself?" The tall young adult glances toward Ilario.
"Please, do." Rylie answers.
Following the suspect, after having closed back the door, Ilario walks reluctantly toward the table where Enan works to show how a good host he can be.
If the inspector movements would be more fluid, it would be like he is dancing a samba. But the inspector is rigid.
"I am Enan." The student begins with a smile. He doesn't hold his hand out, uncomfortable.
"I am doing a degree in literature. Rylie is coming in like, two or three times a weeks. I am the local freak. Mime and jack of all trade." He finishes while pouring the tea in two cups.
"You don't drink with us?" interrupt the woman standing now aside the table with the two other males.
"No, I just had a coffee, you know: Oriel." And he shyly try to fit on a chair.
"If we were listening to Ms. Burrow, we would have left a police officer here 24/7. She keeps saying that Enan is up to something." Rylie carries through.
"Ah." Ilario emits with a nod. His fingers gets around the warm cup.
"What does she says this time, that I broke her window?" The student simply says with a smile on his lips. He stirs some milk and sugar in the woman cup. He knows her taste.
"No, seriously worst." Admits Rylie, sipping in her cup of tea, after."She says that she saw you with that little girl." And she pulls out a picture.
Enan beams, recognizing who it is."My memory is not very good, but yes, for once Hannah told the truth."
Both inspectors stir up in their chair, looking at each other. The giant's friend is slightly unease by the news.
"Enan, that is a serious accusation, she thinks you violent her and you abducted her." Lets escape the woman, a color of sadness in her tone.
"Oh? No…certainly not. I saw her this morning only, with her mother and her twin sister... on the perpendicular street, by the Newsstand." He precises, his own tone nor enliven nor sadden."I thought it was her mother." And he extend to a full arm span, taking the first paper he can grab, wagging it in the face of the two officers. "And then, in there. I would have called you, Rylie, but I knew you was on your way, so." He continues with a shrug. "I just prepared the tea."
"Twin? When again?" ask Ilario, getting a pad and a pencil out. The tea in the cup of the investigator almost falls of the rim of the cup. The storm in it takes some times to subside.
"Not two hours ago." Answers Enan, toughtful."The twins looked strange like drugged. The 'mother' reacted quite crudely to my presence. They went full South."
Ilario raises, affirming: "I think we are finish…thank you Mister Enan."
"What are you running for? They can be everywhere. This section of the town is like a Gruyere cheese." protest Rylie, visibly not in a hurry.
"We can at least go to the newsstand and question your friend Oriel. A salesperson is having a better memory, no?" The half-bald man explains.
"Certainly not for poetry, but yes...for faces." Enan says, getting up. "Let me get my coat and my hat, I'll walk you there."
Ilario frowns at the offer, but Rylie pats him."Is he not gallant for his age?" she declares."And we thought that feature was only from the old generation!"
"How old are you?" questions now the fat man, crooking his neck to see the face upward.
"Twenty-one...and still growing-up." He claims, with a smirk and a wink.
They all walk out, Enan closing the walk in the corridor.
Once out, though, he is leading.
"You arrested him, tell me you are arresting him..." comes the voice of Hannah.
"Yes Madam Burrow, we did. Go sleep!" reassures the youngest woman. Lowering her tone, she pinches the giant hand."If that can get her off your back for a day or two..."
He nods.
Soon they will be near Oriel.
Word Count=2173