The quiet cafe I chose to stop by for a coffee is illuminated by blue neon lights. It’s almost midnight and the place seems sedated. I’m almost alone though a couple is sitting in the corner of the room. I notice a man a couple of tables in front of me. He’s wearing a blue navy jacket like my own and a copy of the Mirror is in his hand. I notice the phrase ‘DANGER’ is written on his back. As he gets up to exit I trail him. As we walk through the empty dark streets I keep trying to get a glimpse of his face though it remains concealed. We descend the steps that lead to the subway and wait for the train. I keep trying to steal a glance of his face but he routinely turns away. As he enters the cart I follow. I’m sitting a few seats away while I watch him read the paper.
The man exits the subway while I follow discretely. We enter the Marionette, Totallitaria’s illustrious wax museum. We pass an anthropomorphic fish-like creature straight out of a Lovecraft novel. The scales along the creature’s arms are blue blended with a green hue. The mouth is gaping open with white teeth scattered. The man places a note inside the creature’s mouth and exits the museum. As I wait for him to leave I reach into the gaping mouth, searching deep into its stomach and retrieve the note.
‘Erich Zans Avenue, Apartment 13’
The words are written in black ink. I recognise the street, I think it’s located on the shadier side of the east district. I trail the sidewalk while rain cascades on the grey streets. I hail a taxi which stops before me.
“I need to get to the east district. Time is sparse, please hurry.”
“Only druggies and homeless around there at this hour. What’s your business?”
I catch a glance of myself in the cab’s rear view mirror. I look thin and faded.
“I’m a private investigator. Following a lead.”
I exit the cab and knock on the door of the apartment. The minutes go by without an answer. As I turn to leave I hear a click followed by a door opening. A woman in her mid twenties with curly blond hair and blue eyes stands in the doorway with a look of quiet desolation.
“Sorry to bother you at this hour, but I’m a private investigator. Do you know a woman named Alice?”
The woman rubs her eyes and lets me inside.
“Alice is my best friend. Where is she? I’ve been calling her everyday this past week without a response.”
I explain the situation over a cup of black coffee. As we talk I gaze around the apartment which looks pristine and well kept.
“So the police suspect her of being involved in a murder? Why would she kill her own client?” Stephanie looks bewildered
“I’m not up to date on the specifics but I think she’s been framed. Was there anyone she was in contact with during the days preceding her arrest?”
Stephanie glances out the window as a car drifts past.
“There was one of her other clients she had been talking with, William Merrick I think his name was. She briefly mentioned he was a K Junkie.”
“Do you know where he lives?” I speak quietly
“The old hotel, right here in the east district. It’s really run down and dirty. A place for junkies basically.” Stephanie takes a sip of her coffee
As I exit I walk down the corridor and out into the street when the night suddenly feels alive and vibrant. I gaze at the top of the buildings stretching far above and feel in need of a shot of K. I continue following the trail laid before me like a rodent to a mousetrap.
Gabriel Wing 