The Blood Trail... (Part 3)

After about fifteen minutes, Jennifer pulled up in the gravel drive of a small café. She unbuckled herself and got out to place an order, Andrew followed shortly.

‘A cup of Cappuccino, little sugar no milk’

She took her seat beside a glass wall. The café was on the farthest corner of the city, it was one of the best in town, and she remembered coming here to have a coffee treat with her parents. The city was submerged in the pink golden rays of the rising sun. The perfect outlines of skyscrapers painted beautiful scenery on the horizon. She enjoyed the pleasing view while waiting for her morning coffee. The murder had been committed very wisely. 

The victim, Mrs Laurent had been a brilliant woman. Jennifer was still unsure about the victim’s past, but one fact was certain, the lady was a great pursuer of knowledge. The blood marks on signs and walls had been some kind of message written in either sign language or some ancient language. Jennifer was multilingual, as her profession demanded knowledge of numerous languages and literature. She knew that the marks on the wall and signs were some kind of hint left by Mrs Laurent to set the cops on the trial for her murderer. She had studied them carefully; they were a mixture of signs and ancient Egyptian language.

It took her huge effort and wits to crack up the code on walls. 

‘FAMILIA’ 

The word meant family in the Latin language. Laurent had used a mixed-up code of letters and written them at different places while on her death bed. She had managed to conceal the trail by making some random marks amongst the signs. Jennifer smiled utterly awed by the foresight of the lady. It was a smart move all in all. Some marks were on florescent sign board while others were smeared on the walls of the storeroom and amongst the articles strewn across the floor. 

The details of the crime scene played like a video film inside her mind. She closed her eyes and pondered over the facts she had recently discovered. There were still a few pieces of the puzzle missing from the picture. From the facts, it had become certain that murder had been committed by a family member, but who and above all why?

Details of Mrs Laurent’s past life were extremely vague, it was only after her marriage into the family that she had come under the spotlight. 

‘Your cappuccino, ma’am’

The server’s voice brought Jennifer back to the present. She wrapped her cold hands around the warm coffee mug. Ahh… What a pleasure it was! After a cold and distressing it was a good refreshing tonic for her. She sipped on her drink, relishing the view of the morning before her eyes. Cheerfully, she looked around the café. 

Memories of her childhood came flooding back, it was a cosy little store back then, with wooden furnishing, which gave it a lovely warm complexion. Not much had changed ever since, except the position of reception and owner. In her childhood, it used to be near the entrance and was owned by the amiable old fellow called Mr Freddie, the man used to arrange special cookie treats for Jennifer on all of her visits and that too was free of cost. The café was now owned by one of his sons.

Jennifer sucked in the familiar lingering fragrance of the bakery. Her eyes stopped on Andrew Hastings, seated two tables from her. He was looking severe, a slight frown stretched across his smooth forehead, he was staring out of the window, thinking hard. Jennifer eyed him curiously. This man had the most composite personality Jennifer had ever encountered. 

She had studied a bit of psychology and was good at broadly classifying people’s behaviour and nature on the basis of her analysis. It was for the first time she had experienced confusion. Usually her mind and instincts pointed in the same direction, but this time there was turmoil between the two. 

‘Andrew Hastings is not what he appears’ Jennifer thought, staring at the cop. 

‘Mr. Hastings, I hope you have the necessary information ready’ Jennifer spoke as she drove away from the little café.

‘Yes ma’am, the details of suspects, addresses and other related info has been accumulated. You can have a look.’ Andrew replied, arranging the freshly printed documents. Andrew had extracted the confidential details using his police id and had used the café printer to arrange them systematically.

‘Not needed. I believe I can trust your documents. You might be away for a few days and nights, therefore we’ll first drive to your place, and pack up some essentials and casual outfits. Do not share the details of the case you’ll be working on.’

‘I am aware of the last detail ma’am, Thank you Andrew replied icily. This woman was treating him like a fourteen-year-old, although he was about the same age as her.

Jennifer stopped in front of his residence; not much surprise, a person like her is bound to investigate the details of her companion. He wondered how much she already knew and shuddered at the thought.

‘You have about thirty minutes, I’ll be waiting for you right here

He gave a short nod and got off. Jennifer sped off soon after. Andrew entered his house, it was the break of dawn, and his parents were still asleep. He used the spare key under the eave and made his way quietly towards his room. The room had belonged to him since childhood. The light yellow walls were covered with posters of his favourite band and motorbikes. There was a desk in one corner and a neatly arranged bookshelf in another accompanied by a wardrobe and bed. The room was uncluttered and warm. 

He began throwing his essentials in a small bag. He still had about fifteen minutes when he was finally done. He decided to take a nice shower before the backbreaking mission ahead, who knows when he’ll have another chance? He was soon all set for his upcoming task. He scribbled a short note to his parents, explaining his prolonged absence and giving almost no details about the case and decided to leave it under the vase in the dining room. On his way out he bumped into the bookshelf. A book fell with a soft thud and a picture slid out of it. Andrew picked up the book and smiled sadly at the picture.

It was a girl, her yellow hair falling slightly down her back. Her round face and fair skin gave her the look of an innocent goddess. She was wearing a neat white dress, which went along with her tender personality. Her cheeks were flushed with excitement that must have lingered in the air at that time, and her perfect sunny smile made the picture lively and hopeful. 

It was his lady, his love. Andrew kissed the picture softly and placed it inside the book. He was about to place it back on the shelf when he decided against it and carried it off with him. He climbed down the stairs of poaching and there was a silver Volvo parked right at the entrance, as promised. He placed his bag in the trunk, and got in the front, carrying his laptop and book. He had taken off his cop uniform so as to not arise any questions and was now dressed in a pair of light blue jeans and a crisp white shirt. 

Jennifer had changed her outfit to a more casual one with a high-neck purple top, pair of blue jeans and sunglasses. Andrew busied himself with the study of the case as the car pulled away from his house.

‘Our first destination is Mrs Susan’s house. It’s good to begin from the basics first. Can you put the location in GPS?’ Jennifer enquired, indicating towards the small black screen on her dashboard. Andrew inserted the location, it was about an hour’s drive away, Mrs Susan had lived in the furthermost region of the city.

‘You can grab some sleep on the way; vigour and zeal to work are important components of my assistants. ’ Jennifer said, humour lining underneath her words. She glanced at the haughty expression on Andrew’s face and smirked nonchalantly. Andrew fumed beside her, but he was too tired to retort. He had never gone through a sleepless and wholly tiresome night before, his job would require such sacrifices too many times in future, and this was just beginning. As a result, he soon drowsed off and was woken up by the crunches of the brake, as the car pulled over to their first stop, Mrs Susan’s small cottage.

Mrs Susan’s cottage was small but looked warm and welcoming. There was a small courtyard in front, which had a few overgrown weeds and grasses here and there along with a small patch of freshly grown bunches of English roses, orchids and white lilies. Peony bushes marked the boundary of a small paradise. There was a stone paved path leading towards the cottage situated at the far end of the territory. The bricked boundary wall had mosses growing around the cracks, and the rusted iron entry gate was on its hinges. It creaked loudly as Jennifer pushed it aside. She advanced towards the entrance and rang the greasy old bell outside the gate. 

There was some sound commotion inside the cottage and soon enough a wrinkled face popped out of the entrance. It was an old woman, probably a neighbour or relative of Mrs Susan. She looked alarmed at the sight of two completely strange men and women; it was obvious that there were no regular visitors at the cottage. 

‘Yes?’ she spoke; her voice was worn out and cracked.

‘Hello Miss, I’m Jennifer Skinner, a private investigator and this is my companion, officer Hastings’ she showed her id to the woman, and she took a quick look at the card and then at the living people standing before her. She considered something for a moment and then stepped out in full view; she seemed to trust their identities. 

‘Hello officer, I am Ariana Hazelwood, what can I do for you?’ she asked politely

‘We would like to ask some questions if you are okay?’

‘Sure Ms Skinner, do come in first’, Mrs Hazelwood smiled politely and beckoned them inside the cottage. Jennifer and Andrew followed her into the cottage. The layout inside was simple and meticulous; multiple things had been crammed inside neatly in the small space. There was an old couch in one corner of the small hall that stood right behind the door, and an ancient and crumbling tea table with a chip of flower vase on top of it stood right in front of the couch. There was an old umbrella stand with a single black umbrella and a trophy case, which was half empty. There was a dark passage leading the inside of the house at the back of the room. 

Mrs Hazelwood pulled the curtains apart and streaks of morning light flooded the dark room, transforming it into a welcoming space. 

‘Please make yourself comfortable’ Mrs Hazelwood told the two people and disappeared into the dark passage inside the house.

Jennifer signalled Andrew for taking a point-to-point record of every detail, who swiftly took out a decent pocket notebook and started scribbling away the essentials. Ariana Hazelwood came back shortly carrying a pot of steaming tea and some homemade cookies. She served her guests and seated herself on the old chair beside the couch.

‘Mrs. Hazelwood, we are here to enquire about Mrs Susan, who had been a worker at Blue Moon over Avila’ Jennifer spoke.

‘Ahh… Susan, well I am her mother-in-law, poor girl, but why do you say ‘had been’?’ Mrs Hazelwood looked perplexed, wrinkles on her face deepened with worry. 

Jennifer took in a slow long breath; she needed the courage to break the terrible news to her family.

‘I am sorry to inform you, Mrs Hazelwood, your daughter-in-law was murdered last night while at work’ Jennifer replied, monotony lining her voice. 

Mrs Hazelwood went numb, tears rolled down her cheeks. She dropped her head into her arms and sobbed pitifully.

‘First my son, and now my daughter-in-law… Oh god! Why have you been so cruel to this family…’ she sobbed uncontrollably. Jennifer went over to her and wrapped her arms around the old woman.

‘Ma’am, please, please, you need to be strong, we are here to investigate your daughter-in-law’s case. But we need your help, please get a hold’ Jennifer tried to console the lady. Mrs Hazelwood got a grip on herself and nodded feebly. Jennifer smiled and began her questioning.

‘Ma’am please tell me about Mrs Susan’

‘Susan, she was the sweetest and warmest girl I had ever known. Poor girl had been an orphan since a young age, poor in fortune but rich in heart. She married my son at thirty after ten years of marriage they adopted Dennis from an orphanage, he was just two years back then and lost both his parents in a car accident. Susan bestowed all motherly love on her child. The family was a perfect family until my son suddenly fell ill and left them. Poor Susan was left alone, with her disease and a child. She took up the work of cleaner lady in Blue Moon, I came over to look after the child while she was away at work. Multiple times she had stayed overnight at a restaurant, but this fate would never cross my mind’, more tears rolled down her wrinkled cheeks. She sniffed loudly.

‘I see, what does your son do for a living? How did he die?’

‘He was a helper at a bookshop in town. And did a lot of odd jobs for saving up some money; he was usually out of town searching for work in off-work seasons. He was diagnosed with late-stage brain tumour in his late forties and died soon after. ’

‘What about Dennis?’

‘Dennis is an adorable boy, he loved his parents. He had just started attending his school. He has been suffering from typhoid, and Susan had been freaked out. You can see our condition. She had been working sleeplessly for past many days. I don’t know how I am going to explain this to the little chap…’ Mrs Hazelwood burst into tears at the thought. Jennifer quickly went over to her and took her hands in hers.

‘Mrs. Hazelwood, I promise you Dennis would be taken care of. Please, we need your help, I am here to help you, trust me Jennifer’s voice was kind compassionate. The old lady looked at her in the face and smiled briefly before returning to her previous composure.

‘Thank you she said.

‘Not needed, shall I continue?’ Jennifer asked smiling slightly.

‘Please’

‘What did she do yesterday before leaving for work? Was there anything unusual in her behavior?’

‘She had the night shift last night. She fed Dennis, had some early supper and went off as usual leaving Dennis in my care, nothing peculiar. But I did saw her sneaking a photo from family album. When I inquired about it, she said she was going to give it for framing as it was the last of their sweet memories. After which she left for work.’

‘What was the time around which she left?’

‘It must be around seven. She was to catch the bus at a nearby stop.’

‘What was her opinion about her workplace?’

‘She never complained even a bit. She has been one of the longest working employees at Blue Moon, her salary was meagre, but enough to feed us all and take care of our daily necessities. She was overworked sometimes, but she loved her job dearly.’

Jennifer mused over the old lady’s statements, she could sense that the woman was telling the truth. Andrew scribbled furiously beside her.

‘Can we meet Dennis?’ Jennifer enquired politely.

‘You can, the boy is shy and weak though…’ Mrs Hazelwood said guiding the way into the house.

There were three rooms inside, a kitchen, a single bedroom and a restroom. The wall paint was peeling off and there was a damp smell. Inside the bedroom, there was a bed, a wardrobe and a bedside table nothing special. There was a small figure lying on the cot, facing away from the wall.

‘Dennis dear, you have some visitors’ Mrs Hazelwood called out to the cot, the figure stirred and turned slowly towards them. He was a small boy of about seven or eight. He must have been a pretty boy once, but his illness had ruined his fresh looks. He looked pale and weak.

‘Hello dearie, I am Sister Jen, a friend of your momma. How have you been?’ Jennifer asked smiling brightly at the child. Dennis returned her smile shyly. 

‘Fine sister, thank you

‘You have such good manners, your mom must be proud of you

A sad expression crossed his face. He looked down at his hands.

‘Momma has been away to work, she never returned.’ Dennis replied staring at his hands.

Jennifer felt sorry for the lovely before her, he doesn’t deserve to suffer so much at such a young age. 

‘Don’t worry, I am going to find your momma, but Dennis must promise me to be a good boy and listen to his grandma’ Jennifer spoke sweetly. Dennis looked up, his eyes met Jennifer’s and he smiled brightly showing a perfect set of white teeth. 

‘Do you promise?’

‘I won’t promise, but I will try my best’ Jennifer replied smiling at the child. The child looked impressed by the answer, he smiled broadly at her. Jennifer went over to him and produced chocolate out of her jacket. She bent down and whispered in his ear

‘It’s a secret between the two of us, don’t tell granny, okay?’ 

She slid the chocolate into the boy’s hand, who giggled mischievously. Jennifer waved him goodbye and followed Mrs Hazelwood and Andrew out of the room. 

‘Thank you for your time Mrs Hazelwood, your information is extremely valuable to us, I shall be troubling you more in future, I am sorry…’ Jennifer spoke.

‘I’ll cooperate, no need to be sorry, instead I am grateful to you for making Dennis smile’ Mrs Hazelwood smiled, her watery from the tears. 

‘I will try my best to serve your family justice’ Jennifer spoke. 

‘Thank you Ms Skinner’, Mrs Hazelwood replied. 

Jennifer drove off from the cottage. She looked beside her; Andrew was frowning at his notes.

‘Do you mind sharing your analysis, Mr Hastings?’

‘No, ma’am, here is the report; the house is ordinary, nothing weird or out of order. The old lady and child appear to be innocent. ’

‘What about Mrs Susan?’

‘According to recent reports from the department, there were no pictures found on the victim’s body.’

‘Don’t you think something is not right, Mrs. Susan had the night shift in a restaurant, that means her shift must be around nine or eight thirty…’

Andrew's eyes widened. ‘And shops all close around seven in the evening because of the shifted winter schedule, but then where is the picture??’