The Mysterious Case of the Mayflower Dame

Chapter 1: A Distant Star (Part IV)

Walking towards the backstage hallway all the way to her room, I can see that even inside, tons of gifts and flowers are still situated due to lack of space.

“You literally had to deal with most of these did you?” I asked Cecil and she just nodded in agreement with a dash of disappointment. It seems that being a manager is no joke especially with a professional like Eleanor in the field. I placed my coat on one of the chairs and sat down.

“Don’t mind the objects around you, I have to say I am also quite bothered by it,” Eleanor said grabbing a bottle of wine on one of the baskets placed on her dressing table.

“Twenty years of age, amontillado.” She added, looking at the labels it is immeasurable that someone would simply gift high-quality wine. The last time I checked, a bottle of Renė brand wine costs a hundred pounds and that is just for five years of age.

“Edgar Allan Poe, one of my favorites during high school.” The story the cask of amontillado has a bit of a reminiscent glimpse of my high school days. I was interested in the madness of his works during that time, his way of writing inspired me to study the dark side of humanity. Can be one of the essential reasons as to why I became an investigator amidst the money flowing from my previous occupation.

“Ironic right? We thought it was just a make-believe story but here we are, on the verge of drinking its very existence.” It seems that she also has a different story to share about the wine bottle. We were in the same class; albeit we have our differences we do have some things in common and that is the fascination about art and poetry.

  Her manager grabbed three wine glasses and a full bar of Danish cheese. It has been the usual habit to drink wine with cheese to enjoy the tangy sharp taste of the grapes. Eleanor, being in a family of wine connoisseurs, has developed her palette well enough to distinguish the chaff from the wheat in terms of its quality and brand excellence.

“Would you mind opening it for me?” Handing over the wine bottle and cork remover to me, the popping sound of the cork has been a fun thing to hear.

She started pouring the wine inside the glasses and her manager started slicing the cheese for 3 people. Grabbing a glass each we toasted and enjoyed the wine at hand while eating cheese.  Seeing the time on the clock, I hurriedly chugged the wine glass and ate the cheese. They knew from my expression that I am in a hurry over something.

“Wow, I never knew you drink like a camel john?” She said to me in awe.

“Apparently I am still on duty, damn I missed the time.” I think she knows that I am still in duty. 

“It’s okay, maybe we can still talk some time onward.” She replied smiling back at me while holding her glass.

“Thank you for the time and the wine Eleanor. Congratulations in advance.” I said to her as they gave me permission to go.

  I immediately grabbed my coat and went outside. As I was about to wear it, I suddenly noticed a faint smell of lavender and vanilla on the backside. Must be on one of those forsaken stands with flowers or whatsoever. Moving forward, I went to the manager’s room to check the status of the events and later on. Apparently the house has been fully decked with officers and personal bodyguards. He even showed me the flow and the position of the people that would be designated later on. From there I asked him if I can be relieved from my post to return to the police department to finish some paper works that I have stockpiled.

   I went outside and fetched a cab bound for the police station. So far, this job has worked well for me, especially that I had the chance to relive some memories of my past and one of those would be Eleanor. The substantial amount of change that happened in just a short span almost felt like a decade, literally seems like a lifetime on my perspective.

  Reaching the Hampshire PD, working hours are back to normal and there is Mr. Rubik still mouthing the officers on the main lobby that might have come late on their duties or might have been in the theatre this morning. To save myself from much humiliation I passed by his line of sight and rushed to the archives room to fetch a folder that I stored a few days back. Arriving at the front desk, I slammed the counter bell twice and waited patiently for an employee to pop out.

“So you’ve been plucked out of yer seat huh?” a familiar voice from behind the counter. Slowly an old man stood up, wearing a face mask and a trilby.

“If it isn’t old man Jenkins,” I said to him as I showed him a piece of paper that I had when I left my folder here. This man right here is a legend for all of us. He’s been a part of the task force platoon in the military since World War I and has survived countless of battles all across Europe. As of now he is retired and has dedicated the rest of years to serve Hampshire, the police department’s one and only Jenkins.

“So what’s with the sudden flare for fashion?”

“Which one, my hat or my clothes?” He replied looking at the paper that I have

“Could be both.”

“Weather is a nuisance for me kid. Apart from the dust in this wretched place, the humidity is another pain I deal with every day.” He paused for a brief moment and went to one of the shelves visible from my spot.

“What’s with the deal with this crap of a file? You haven’t done your homework you gobshite?!” Shouting like an old man that he is, his energy is unparalleled for his age. He has a tendency to be a bit of a pickle and throw unnecessary comments from time to time.

“Just an ordinary job at the office I reckon. I was trying to get my composure being puffed off by this morning’s load.”

“So you must be one of those punks that were brought up to the theatre aye?” He probably heard that one somewhere.

“Yes, it wasn’t a pleasant one except for the fact that I was able to talk to some people that I know there.”

“Good to hear from you lad, at least there’s someone sane enough to enjoy their pace.” Giving the folder to me I immediately opened its contents and scanned the entire thing clean. So far there are no blotches nor wrinkles from the way it is.

“Thanks by the way!” I said to him as he nods and goes back to whatever it is that he is doing.

  Walking back upstairs to my workplace, I took my coat off and placed it on one of the racks behind my desk. I picked up the pieces of cluttered newspapers and placed them inside the bin, opened my radio to listen to some music, and lit a cigar as I sat down on my chair. The mayor acquiesced in the use of most police officers for that event however I wasn’t able to assess the area as to what extent was that necessary. I did not see any prominent figures except for the mayor, Eleanor, and the other actors and actresses that were there. Unless there are other honchos on the balcony area or would’ve arrived at some point later on.  

  For now, the sight of a typewriter makes my eyes sore a bit. It can either be an irrational response or I am just dumbfounded by the moment that I missed a while ago, being able to Eleanor talk a little longer. Listening to sway music, I started reading my case file to check if I can add more ideas onto it. I do have the list of evidence and post mortem reports on my lap but I have to be careful on this one.

 I’ve been tracing some irregularities from a certain case that we’ve handled, several weeks before. The place of interest would be a certain restaurant, north from where I live. Cordon Blue was the name, a famous seafood extraordinaire that has reached the pinnacle of a three-star restaurant, a place where Eleanor usually eats whenever she visits the neighborhood. From the newspaper articles that I’ve encountered, it’s as if she has that golden touch. Whenever she goes to an establishment, that place will surely get its share of popularity from the masses.

  Speculations from the forensic tell me that somebody must’ve done something on the crime scene prior to the explosion. How can I tell? To explain this further, when we investigated the place, it was already several hours since the fire department extinguished the scorching flames. Due to the report stating that there were human casualties, we were contacted to identify the corpses.

  Removing the debris to get the bodies, we lined them all up outside to put them on bags under the supervision of Mr. Rubik himself. Another thing here is that we received an immediate report regarding the source of the flames. According to the fire department’s superintendent, the source was from a gas tank leak that had contact with some scuffled wiring from the kitchen.

  We also interviewed the Fire department’s building specialist, he told us that faulty wiring can be easily detected, especially if you have nearby appliances being used. He also added that during his interview with the survivors, one of them told him that it is preposterous to have such since the place was thoroughly checked on a monthly basis. To support that claim, we had to run a few errands just to verify the notes of the safety inspector responsible for that particular establishment.

  Indeed our speculations were correct, everything on the record was true. However, somebody from inside must’ve done something to allow the wires to malfunction. It cannot be logical that the culprit did his job a week before. No, it is impossible since the symptoms of faulty wiring will be evident on several occasions such as the sound of sparking, broken fuses due to short circuits, and palpitations from the nearby lights.

  I have more than two case files, all with similar causes but with various casualties. Personally, I wouldn’t go this far to assess this case. Given the consistencies of the scenario along with the unknown intentions that we are yet to find, I am certain that these problems will continue to grow if left alone. Mr. Rubik intentionally assigned it to me due to my background, with a few assistants from the academy. Fresh graduates from the military if I would be honest, they were tasked to gain some experience under my wing.

Nevertheless, I am afraid that this is a case that requires minimal blunders, lest our culprit isn’t a serial killer, there will not be another chance to survive. I can tell due to the nature of the fire and the fact that even up to now we’re clueless of his whereabouts. This person isn’t just a random Firestarter to topple with, I need to get ahead or I won’t be able to protect the next line of victims.    

(End of Chapter)