A very uneventful day

It wasn’t a cold day.. nor was it a particularly warm day either. It was one of those days that under normal circumstances one might easily forget as if it had never occurred, like a tree which falls in a forest far away and without a sound.

Through the window the sky was cloudy with an ever so slightly blue tint to it, and the street below lay gray and dull like the shed skin of a long and sad serpent. Pigeons pecked idly on the boardwalk and rested comfortably on the ledges of the high rise buildings that surrounded Fenders Co. Entreprises where Mr. Simon Fromptly worked.

Simon was a small man, neither stout nor skinny, with beady eyes which he covered with a pair of spectacles that sat sluggishly and uncomfortable atop his too small nose, forcing him to push them back every so often with his short stubby fingers as they consistently slid out of place.

Since his youngest age, similar to his drab, beige suit which he wore everyday over his dark suspenders, Simon had never been the kind to be remarkable at anything and so it has come to no one's surprise that he has thus far lived quite the unremarkable life.

Occupying a small office with a dozen or so other people which he seldomly interacted with, Simon was surprisingly content with his lot in life. Recently promoted to a low level manager position due to being just adequate enough, Simon deeply enjoyed the single secular office he now had the pleasure of isolating himself within everyday, with its plaster walls and single window, and normally thrived in the simplicity of it all.

But today was not normal, and Simon would not be forgetting this day any time soon.

Other than the potted ficus that stood beside his door, Simon was the only living thing in his office, and the only thing making a noise other than the quick paced tapping of his finger upon the cheap wood of his desk was the occasional ticking of the clock hanging on the wall to his right, which he glanced over every so often before adjusting his spectacles.

“Come on… Come on…” Simon mumbled impatiently. His beady eyes darted around the various corners of the room which he resided in, as though fearing something may strike him from the shadows at any given moment.

A single droplet of cold sweat ran uncomfortably down his temple and dripped upon the lens of his glasses before he could wipe it away. 

Cursing profusely, Simon jittered his hands towards the small drawer beside his desk where he kept such useful things as his stapler and handkerchief.

Pulling on the slab that consisted of the drawer’s handle with an impromptu amount of struggle, the drawer reluctantly slid open revealing a small white cloth, with upon its untainted surface a single, miniscule red splotch which stood out like neon beams to Simon’s shaking eyes.

He would have to trust it would be ignored for the time being and quickly pulled out to clean his glasses lens.

The severed finger which lay neatly tucked in the cloth came tumbling down and dropped back into the drawer with a soft thud and a squelch. Its single red nail, chipped at the edge, was unbearably vivid.

Simon gave an uneasy gulp as he finished wiping his lenses and gave his brow a single pat before swiftly wrapping the long, womanly finger back into its sweaty, raggedy gown.

At that moment, a familiar knock at Simon’s door almost gave him a heart attack. The knob turned with a loud creak and in came Sandy, the middle aged mother of three who worked as Simon's assistant and secretary.

“Good morning Simon, are you busy ? A gentleman from the Police Department would like to have a word with you, if that’s alright. He.. uhm, insists it's quite urgent.” She said uncomfortably, turning her head back to face the “gentleman” who no doubt stood beside her.

So soon ? Simon thought with a fright, but quickly composed himself.

“Of course Sandy, please, send him in.” Simon answered with a forced smile, as he casually closed his drawer in a manner not to arouse any suspicion.

As he discreetly re-arranged the little plaque which stood opposite to him on his desk, a threatening presence entered the inner chamber.

The presence in question was a man, tall and grizzled with a grave expression on his otherwise handsome face. His hair was cut short and he was dressed in a black coat and a blue shirt. A large, golden, glistening badge hung loosely from a chain upon his thick neck, and his eyes shone a skeptical emerald green.

“Good afternoon Mr. Humphry. I am detective Wight, but I suppose you already knew that. I apologize for my lateness, traffic jam.” He mouthed casually as his eyes examined scrutinously the pale walls that encircled him as he took a seat, gesturing towards the empty chair before occupying it after Simon had delivered an indulgent nod.

“Yes, indeed, no worries. I hope your wait wasn’t too long.” Simon responded, ignoring the blatant mispronunciation of his name, no doubt a carefully calculated plot of false ignorance engineered to make him lower his guard. “Water? Tea? Coffee?” He quickly added as the sharp eyed detective began making himself comfortable.

“Coffee? Sure, something quick, I won’t be here long.” 

Simon turned to face Sandy who swiftly made her way out of the office to accomplish the silent command.

Calmly, Simon poured himself a cup of water from a small container he kept on his desk beside his laptop and drank it up in one big gulp.

“So, detective, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?” Simon asked directly, his mouth etched flat, his expression still as stone in a desperate attempt to look calm and unintimidated. “You said you had important information to forward me regarding the… case. At least that’s what your lieutenant told me last we spoke on the phone.” He added just as quickly so as to not appear too eager or suspicious. After all, he was supposed to be a grieving husband.

Stay cool SImon, it's impossible for them to have found the body… he reassured himself

“Hmph, that’s just something he says to get me off my- well, I mean, we still don’t have any conclusive leads as to what might have caused your wife’s disappearance.”

“I.. I don’t understand.. It’s been almost a month.” Simon said, his small eyes had the added benefit of always having a glossy sheen to them. A perfect tool in this scenario.

“Yeah…” The detective muttered, scratching his unkempt beard whilst looking askance. “Well, you know, this sort of thing isn’t uncommon. I suspect you won’t have to wait for much longer, we suspect the culprit will have made some mistake we’re just not seeing yet.”

I highly doubt it… Simon thought, somewhat pleased with himself. As much as he wanted to flaunt the perfection of his ploy, he knew better than to give in to this temptation. Ignorance remains key to survival.

“People who get this lucky often do.” The detective interjected, as though he had just heard what Simon was thinking.

“I beg your pardon, l-lucky ?” Simon asked with a teaspoon of true anger hidden in his shaking voice, balling his fist in his palm as to hide the silent wrath that slowly boiled inside of him. “Are you saying that the-the individual who took my wife was just-just lucky?!”

Who does this guy think he is? Simon thought irritatingly.

“Wow there, calm down, I meant no disrespect Mr. Humphry. We know the culprit entered your home and took your wife in the dead of night whilst you were away, as you know we discovered the door unlocked with no sign of forced entry, implying that your wife must have left the door unlocked at that time, the evident struggle in your bedroom shows that she was not taken willingly but provided little resistance, we suspect had she not been sound asleep the intruder would have had a much more difficult time. All I’m saying is that a unique set of circumstances seemed to have benefitted the sudden attack of the culprit.”

This was no mere attack of opportunity ! I purposely left the door unlocked so that I could sneak in from the back window ! She was wide awake and barely knew what hit her ! Did you even look at the crime scene you impudent baboon !!

“Sudden attack ? I was told this was premeditated.” 

“Yeah, we thought so too, but a lack of viable suspects due to your… small circle of company has led us to believe that the culprit may not be someone you know but rather a complete stranger. If not it would have to be something akin to a stalker perhaps, did you recall anyone giving your wife an unusual amount of attention in the days that led to her disappearance?” The detective asked, edging himself closely towards Simon who retreated his head back and scratched his neck.

Ohoh.. I see what you’re doing, detective, trying to see to whom I might point finger. Very clever. If I say yes, then that could arouse suspicion as to why I hadn’t mentioned this previously, but if I say no then the only logical suspect remains me… but perhaps if I could just word it right enough, I could hit two cheating birds with one stone.

“A-Actually, now that you mention it, ever since I reported my wife missing, this one electrician who would occasionally come and do maintenance on “faulty wires” on the powerline in front of our house stopped coming. I’d never thought about it before but I don’t recall hearing electricity issues in our neighborhood, and his van would never be far from the garden… or maybe not… It may just be paranoia… I just remember confronting him once and he struck me as oddly evasive.. but nothing so serious as to note.”

The detective sat quietly, nodding and scratching his chin every couple of words.

“How would you… describe this man, Mr. Humphry ?”

Simon feigned vague recollection, even though he knew exactly what this “suspect” should look like, and swallowed the annoyance of his mispronounced name yet again. Eduardo you scumbag… Simon thought with a mental smile as he began painting a vague but just precise enough image of the electrician he’d caught his wife sleeping with.

It had been a long day at work so he’d come home to surprise his darling only to discover her treachery. She’d never known of course, but Simon knew. Simon knew all too well how to take her down and her lover with her.

“I don’t remember very well. Large, decent size, spanish I think.. he had a small scar on his chin right here.” Simon said as he pointed at a small spot on his jaw. “But other than that.. I can’t remember much else.”

“No name tag? ID? Company logo maybe?”

Simon hunched his shoulders.

“It was almost two months ago.”

“Would this man have looked anything like this?” The detective inquired as he pulled out a small picture of that very man from within the dark recesses of his coat, Simon noticed the distinct silhouette of a firearm lay strapped to its inside, black like obsidian.

The picture practically slid from the detective’s fingers and slithered quietly beneath the moleman’s eyes.

Simon’s heart raced as a string of curses thundered quietly in his mind.

“Th-That’s him ! Yes !”

“Eduardo Skei.. he was found murdered by his wife at home a couple days ago. Multiple stab wounds to the chest and back I heard.”

The detective's piercing eyes met Simon’s and it took every fiber of his mousley being not to break on the spot.

“Wh-What a-a-are you s-s-ssaying?” Simon asked, unable to hide his fear.

“That’s a good question Mr. Humphry-”

“It's F-Fromplty.” Simon interjected, to the inquisitive gaze of the detective. “Mr.Simon Fromptly. It says it right on the desk. Husband to Marie Fromptly who is still missing whilst you and your boys are looking into another man’s death.”

“Right, Fromptly, my mistake. Well Mr. Fromptly, to tell you the truth, I think your wife’s disappearance has something to do with this murder. Something very important, that I’m just picturing now.”

The detective leaned in silently towards Simon.

“I think, that Whilst Mr. Fromptly was away, Mrs. Fromptly and Mr. Skei were busy, until someone found them out.. and put an end to both. But you already put two and two together, didn’t you Mr. Fromptly? It’s why you don’t seem shocked by this proclamation.”

“D-Detective… are you accusing me of-of murder ?” Simon asked with as much confidence as he could muster.

The detective looked at Simon, his serious eyes like daggers, before letting out a roar of a laugh that may very well have made the building tremble. Like an earthquake with a terrible sense of humour at a comedy show.

Simon could almost make out a tear of sheer hilarity form around the detective’s eye, before he was able to calm down and recompose himself.”

“You?! HAH ! Mr. Fromptly I didn’t think of you as the funny type. No, I’m almost certain his wife found out about it and took them both off the census. Got rid of your wife first, then when her husband went to confront her about it, did him in too. Just got word before getting here that she might have fled the country. Luckily, with you as a witness, we can book that old bag straight to prison, provided we find her of course.” The detective mumbled amidst the snickers and giggles he tried to conceal.

At that moment, the knob creaked once more and the familiar shape of Sandy wobbled in with a steaming latte in hand.

“That's all they got left Mr. Detective, sorry. What’s all the fuss about here then?” She asked with a big smile, ignorant much like the detective was towards Simon’s look of abysmal and utter humiliation. So insulted was that he sat stunned, incapable of formulating a response. He was so scared the detective had caught him dead to rights he was about to have a heart attack, only to learn that not only was he not remotely even considered a suspect, but the very thought was able to condemn Detective WIght to such tears of laughter.

“Nothing, nothing. Mr. Fromptly simply asked me if I considered him a suspect in his wife’s possible murder investigation!” At that, the detective succumbed to another fit of hideous hilarity. His chest heaving to such a point his ribcage looked as though it may burst at any moment.

Upon hearing of this accusation, Miss Sandy too began laughing, sharing the news out the door as soon as the words had left the detective’s mouth.

Before long the office truly did tremble as the roaring of 12 people led to the upper and lower floors of the building.

Simon, completely devoured by fury, cried out in indignation as he tried to refute this, forcing out his entire drawer and plunging his arm into it to retrieve the only possible proof that he was guilty of this dark deed.

“NO ! NONONO ! I AM A SUSPECT ! I SHOULD BE THE PRIME SUSPECT ! STOP LAUGHING !!  I DID KILL HER ! LOOK !! I HAVE HER FINGER !!!”

Upon looking at the severed finger the tiny Simon held up high like a child showing off his favorite crayon, the detective let out another burst of laughter as he spat out his drink, causing another wave to take over what seemed like the entire block.

The detective picked the finger from Simon and used it to stir his drink before flicking it away.

“Yeah right!” Hollered the detective. 

“Oh, you are very funny Mr. Fromptly !” Sandy nodded, laughing in agreement as Detective Wight made his way out of the office, picking out his phone and dialing someone’s number.

“Hey Lieutenant ! I've just heard the funniest thing ever ! You know that Fromptly Guy? Humphry yeah, same thing…”

His voice trailed off as he slowly faded into the cacophony of laughing people that followed after him.

If not for Sandy who was still snickering beside the doorway, Simon may have well been standing alone. The very color drained from his fat rat face.

“They all just… laughed at me.” He lamented in disbelief “I killed my own wife and they just laughed at me.”

Hey eyed her finger which lay drenched in coffee in a sad, dusty corner beneath the clock.

Sandy was regaining her composure as she turned towards the door.

“Well, you are very funny when you want to be Simon, I wouldn’t be too hurt though, people are idiots. Hoo, you almost make me miss my dear Eduardo.” She said nonchalantly, wiping a happy tear from her eye.

Simon stared at Sandy with stupor.

“What did you just say ?”

Sandy looked at him with innocent eyes as she slowly crept out the door.

“Come now Mr. Fromptly, don’t go around thinking you’re the only one with little secrets.”

And with that, Sandy was off to join the merriment with a chuckle, leaving poor little old Simon dumbfounded and confused as the door slowly closed after her.

Simon looked out his little window into the gray sky above.

It wasn’t a warm day… nor was it particularly cold. But for Simon, it got just a little colder.

The End