❝ Stealing is an art
I've mastered
Yet I'm confused
Who is the artist here?

I hold my breath and
Wait for you to recognize me,
Look around carefully,
You are just another person
who has forgotten me.❞

***

Stolen Masterpieces

Jeremy immediately caught my eyes as I entered Peggy's, a small pub located on the outskirts of the town. 

I occupied my usual seat at the bar.

"Another case?" He asked, his eyes trained on the concoction of drinks in his hands.

He slid the glass towards me before I gulped it down, grimacing with the strong bitter taste.

An image flashed across my eyes.

A young boy, laying on the floor, neck decorated with strangulation marks, barely breathing. His face, a painting of terror, almost unrecognisable with chocolate smeared all over it.

An empty wrapper found near the victim's body.

Fourth case. In the same week.

I retrieved the glinting paper and smoothed it out on the oak countertop.

"Isn't that against your protocol?" Jeremy gestured towards the important evidence, laying in his plain sight.

I scoffed.

In his late seventies, Jeremy had been one of my closest companions for years now.

"I would rather have your two pennies in this case than my boss' who think that women are better suited in the kitchen, cooking and cleaning, than on fields with guns," I said as I rubbed my tired eyes, leaning on the counter.

"Very few of us are what we seem." Jerry whistled under his breath as he read the note. "He must be quite an avid reader."

"Or a fucking poet in his past life," I said. Some had Shakespeare and some had George Orwell quoted on them. But none carried a trace of their owner.

Not a single fingerprint. 

"I can't believe he slipped through our security. We were so close this time." I said as I reflected on the past few days.

It was a week ago, when we got a midnight call about the accident. Repeating the routine.

It started with Benjamin Hall, a graduate fresh out of high school, followed by his classmate and close friend, Tommy Clark, and then his girlfriend Garcia Gonzalez.

All strangled to death, chocolate smeared over their faces.

By the third accident, our assumptions were confirmed about the next target being one of his remaining two close friends. Elijah Lee being one of them.

But we were prepared this time.

Or so I thought.

Unfortunately, no footage on the camera was close enough to give us the slightest clue of who the murderer was. He entered in the dark of the night and disappeared in the air.

"You've saved a life, Amelia. Take a break."

I barely did. Elijah was lucky. Or the murderer had decided to show some mercy on this one.

From across the room, my eyes connected with a pair of brown ones. Jai Singh sat at his usual table, nursing a bottle of cheap whiskey. A nod was exchanged. 

"It's been two years since his daughter suicided." A new voice said.

I quickly pocketed the wrapper in my jacket as Jonathan Parker occupied my adjacent seat. His expensive cologne crawled up my nose.

"Alya was murdered." I corrected, my voice crisp. His smirk widened.

"Hard allegations from a detective who failed to find her culprit."

I gritted my teeth at his plain insult. 

Our investigation revealed her as a victim of severe school bullying.

"Any developments in the current case or am I still held as the prime suspect?" He asked, signalling for a drink of his own.

"Hard to miss your name on the wrappers."

Parker's produced one of the finest handmade chocolates in Atlanta since decades now. It was a well-established family business.

"I told you, those serial numbers were the one belonging to the caret that was stolen from my warehouse. I had lodged an FIR too."

"Why are you here, Jonathan?" I asked, at the end of my patience.

He slid a small flash-drive towards me.

"I had a few secret cameras in my backyard that I didn't tell your team about. I caught something interesting on the footage last night. You need this."

I plugged the drive in my device, wordlessly. The video was grainy and dark until a movement on the corner caught my eyes. 

A vermilion turban. 

I sat ramrod in my seat. The clogs in my brain churned. 

The theft took place on the same night his daughter's case was dismissed from the court. 

Bella Parker was the last name on our target's list. 

"You're smart Amelia, figure it out." Parker smirked.

The table, across the room, now laid empty with an unfinished whiskey bottle and a chocolate wrapper on it.

***

Word count: 750 words (excluding the blurb and A/N)

(This was a TASK!)

***

Who do you think is the main culprit?

Is it Jai Singh? or do you think Mr.Parker is framing him?

Comment down your thoughts!

***

A/N:

This was my entry for #Contest 1 by YAMystery

I had so much fun writing this. The word limit of 500-750 proved to be a major task but it made the process more fun and challenging.

Thank you for organizing this contest. I hope it was worth your time.

***

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