story time

I gaze out of the foggy windows of my office to the street bellow,
the light from a streetlamp coats the area in a yellow tint as the rain cascades down the window leaving the evening view distorted.
Suddenly the radio on the desk begins to crackle as it has for the past few days, I’ve left it unfixed for quite some time, Too much work to do.

a knock sounds at the door that seems to resonate through the Smoke filled room. The handle of the door turns and begins to open.
“Hello? Is this the right place?”
I turn around to see a middle aged blonde woman standing at the door.
she looks around my office as she clutches her bag closer to her.

I extinguish my cigarette in the ashtray on my desk and reply.
“That depends, where are you trying to find?”
She looks at me and I can plainly see how distraught she is.
“I- Is this the detective’s Office.” She says as she walks into the room slightly, keeping the door ajar with her arm as she does so.
“Yes, looks like you’ve found it.” Outstretching my hand to greet the lady I motion for her to take the seat in front of my desk. “I’m detective warhe”
with a firm grip her hand meets mine as I glance down I see a pale ring of skin, she must have worn a wedding ring at some point. The tan lines usually give it away.
“Elaine bullings, thanks for meeting me.”

She takes the stack of files that were on the chair and places them on the floor.

As she sits down the makes sure to tuck in her white skit underneath her and her red dyed leather bag on her lap.
“So” I say to break the silence aside from the crackling of the radio. ”I’ll get right down to it, what can I help you with?”
“it’s my daughter.” She says her head down facing the floor as she speaks “she’s gone missing.”
“Isn’t this a matter for the police ma’am?” I reply taking out a notepad from one of the draws of my desk.
“N- normally, yes, but they haven’t found her, it’s been a week now and I’m really distraught.”
I notice a tear trickle down her pale white skin and her mascara seems to blend in to as it begins a slow decent down her face.
“I see” grabbing a pen jutting from a stack of folders I place it daintily against the notepad, “did you bring any photo’s?”
With a nod she reaches into her bag and pulls out a photograph to hand me.
“I’m sorry but it’s the only one I could find, my husband.. Well, ex-husband…”
“No need to continue, this picture should do.”

Observing the photograph I can make out a man and a woman aside from the girl, Elaine and accompanied by the man, seemingly in this 30’s has a full head of hair, combed to the side and he seems to be wearing mechanic overalls.
the other person is the small girl in the photograph, wearing a floral pattern dress.
it seems like a touching family photograph none the less.

“if this is your daughter, who ias this man? The father?”
She looks up at the photo, her mascara now run down her face.
“The man in the overalls is my ex-husband.”
“I see, where were you when this was taken?”
Wiping a tear from her eye she replies with a timid seeming voice
“It was taken about two months before the divorce”
I seem like a touching family day out. Though from the situation in front of me, something tells me it’s not so special.

“ I know it sounds bad, but do you think she could have run away?”
Her head lowers once more, I can tell that she’s obviously distraught.
“She was happy, but I think the divorce has been hard on her, she was in my custody. After the hearing”
scrawling down the information in the notebook, I finish and look back to her.
“Where does your husband live now?”
“24 Maple Street, in the Algonquin area. Please. Find her”
“of course, there’s just the matter of price.”
She takes out a checkbook from her bag and as if money was no object asks me how much I needed. So what else could I do but tell her that I charge by day.
$1000 may seem a steep price, but my services are top of the range.


The next day comes as I snatch my fedora from the stand nearest to the door.
My friends tell me it’s not proper to sleep in the office leaving a home empty at night, but this office always brings me peace.
I head out the door grabbing my keys in the motion and locking the door as I leave.
Walking down to my car I make a mental note of what I have on me, my wallet, notepad, the image given to me by the woman

after a short drive I arrive on maple street and walk up to the steps of number 24.
The rundown house seems out of place in this suburbia area, it’s out of place.
I knock the door with a lout confident strike.
and wait for a reply from within…