Five-twenty in the afternoon and still the line at the counter hadn’t moved.
To our beloved customers, closing time will be at six, blared the intercom.
Thunder sounded outside. He winced. Another storm.
All for a bar of soap. Really, Maria.
Five minutes to six and ten customers later and he was out the door, fishing in his pocket for his car keys. Rain was pounding on his back, his best shoes wet, his suit damp, sending shivers through his tall wiry frame.
Oh Maria, if it weren’t for love, would I really bother?
He got into the driver’s seat with a crooked smile on, inserted the key into its slot, revved the car and released the manual break.
A flash of lightning illuminated the gold badge dangling from the rear view mirror. Five years into the job and a standoff still wasn’t his cup of coffee.
Tahimik?—
The radio burst into life. He picked up the mouthpiece.
Here, Sir.
Another case, Son. Project 2, Akle, Quezon City. Quickly.
That address…
You’ll have to put off time with that lovely wife of yours, that Maria.
That’s fine, Sir.
Forgive me, Julien, you are the only one I can get to come here on such short notice.
A job is a job, Chief.
Six-thirty that night and he arrived at the crime scene. A co-worker filled him in on the details.
Dr. Hermino San Jose, seventy-four, municipal attending physician, death by impalement, Detective Tahimik. Time of death estimated at around three this afternoon.
Blasted soap.
Detective?
Nothing, Solis.
The guy gave him a nod and left.
I’m sorry…I’m sorry…
It was all he could whisper to the corpse.
I’m sorry about your loss, Julien.
It was the Chief, Chief Talad. The dead man on the floor happened to be the younger man’s grandfather.
What was the means of death, Sir?
Stabbed to death. The murder weapon punctured his chest cavity. Asphyxia and blood loss are the main culprits, Son. The murder weapon is an 1875 vintage blue fountain pen.
Has it been ruled out as—?
Definitely homicide.
So what is it, Sir? A report or photographs? Do you need–?
No. Nothing.
I’m here for–?
I thought you’d rather learn about this from me rather than from the newspapers and television reports tomorrow. You know how the media screws everything up.
I’ll be going home, Sir, that is if you don’t really need me just now.
Yes, I suppose that would be for the best.
Julien did not care to look at his lolo’s body, sprawled on the blue carpet of his brandy-scented study. Camera flashes blinded him. He stood by the fireplace and prepared to pass under the yellow police tape when something caught his eye.
A white satin ribbon was wedged underneath his lolo’s shiny boot.
He crept towards the sheet covered corpse, put on a detective glove and picked up the object.
He froze.
Long brown strands of hair clung to the bow. The satin smelled of sampaguita.
No…
Detective?
New evidence, Solis. Take this to the crime laboratory and don’t forget to let the chief know, alright?
But Sir–?
We have a lead. Don’t blow it now. Scoot.
It was with a strange and heavy feeling that Julien walked out the front door, down the path walk and into the driveway. He got back into his car.
Tahimik–?
You told me it was okay if I left, Sir.
That’s not what this is for. Thanks for the lead.
I suppose so. Good night, Sir.
Julien was tempted to turn the radio off but he knew better. Work ethics. His mobile phone rang.
Maria.
Mahal? came his wife’s voice. Won’t you hurry home? Dinner’s getting cold.
He checked his watch. Nearing seven-thirty. Good point.
I’m on my way. Give me some time. Traffic’s bad by Quezon City Circle.
That and he dreaded his job more than ever. A bad mood made him an even worse driver.
Be careful. Stay safe, okay? Oh and did you buy me some soap?
Yes, the blue speckled kind.
Takes out the stain in everything, she chuckled delightfully.
That tone of hers didn’t sit well with him somehow. After an exchange of goodbyes, the line went dead. Julien crushed the accelerator with his foot.
Nine-thirty in the evening. Fairview. Julien parked his car in the garage, took the grocery bag with him and pushed on the doorbell. The front door opened and a vision of loveliness stood before him.
I was so worried, Maria whispered, planting a kiss on his cheek.
A very familiar scent wafted towards him…
He froze.
Darling?
I’m fine, just tired really. Let’s have dinner then.
She led him inside, towards a table where her sinigang dinner was waiting.
I know you’re tired. We can talk later, Julien. You should eat first. I’ve already had my fill.
She was unusually perceptive.
Oh and hand me the soap.
He handed her the plastic bag. Maria took it and disappeared into the laundry room. Teresa, their maid, was enjoying her free night out.
After a quick meal, Julien put the dishes in the sink and headed into the laundry room himself.
What needs to be washed so urgently at this time of night, Maria?
Oh, a few of your socks, a couple of ties and shirts…and my white dress.
The dress Lolo Hermino gave you?
She smiled, turned her back to him and opened the faucet. A stream of water gushed into one of the buckets by the sink.
Come closer. Look at this, she whispered.
Blue stains spoiled the fabric. Stains that looked like thick ink.
The stains won’t come off, Maria muttered, rubbing the fabric with soap.
Maria–?
I never did like the way he looked at me and criticized my skills as a doctor. I’m a talented internist, Julien.
Maria–?
I was too nice to him when I decided that the world didn’t need him at all. He must be thanking me now. Asphyxia is a wonderful way to die. Nobody will hear you scream.
Julien stood there, winded and unbelieving.
Did you say anything, Julien? I thought you did. Well, what is it.
Murderer.
-Kelly Conlon-
