Graham left his office in the afternoon at two. He had rested for a short time to ease his head pain after having multiple failed divination attempts. Today, his plan was to have breakfast at Don's and go to Bloemstraat to find the advertising company that Étienne Dechant used to work at. He was wearing a warm black sweater and a pair of striped pants, which made him appear slightly taller than he actually was. His medium-built body appeared slender in the sweater.
He walked over to a newsstand on the way to the restaurant. There, they sold a lot of different newspapers, but the most popular in the Republic was De Telegraaf. The people liked it because it tended to stay more neutral and not exaggerated. Then there was Vergroten Dagblad, which tended to report the news in a very exaggerated manner with nonsensical headlines. People usually bought it for the entertainment, but there were also people who actually believed in it and would loudly preach its contents as the truth. Those people were usually the ones who would easily believe in conspiracy theories without fact-checking.
Graham paid one penning for one copy of De Telegraaf and one copy of Vergoten Dagblad and continued his way to the diner, carrying them under his arm. He arrived at the diner shortly after and entered the small but homey building and sat at his usual spot. He was greeted by the usual friendly smile.
"Good afternoon, Graham." said the friendly voice warmly.
"Good afternoon, Mirjam. I want oatmeal pancake with peanut butter and bananas. And one hot chocolate please, extra rich."
"Okay. Anything else for Mr. Detective?"
"No, that's all. Thank you." he smiled at her.
Mirjam left his table and he sat alone quietly, observing the diner. It was not as busy as usual, probably because lunch hour had already passed. The people there right now were only two elderly men enjoying their food, a woman and her son, and two young women. It was peaceful there, without anyone screaming at the top of their lungs about dead bodies.
Graham unfolded De Telegraaf and read the headline news; 'Unidentified Dead Body Found in Sloten. A male dead body was found near a dumpster in an alley in Sloten. The body was found by a man who was on his way to work at around eight in the morning. There was no identification present on the body. The cause of death is still unknown until now. The Police are currently trying to find out the identity of the dead man and the cause of death. They didn't deny the possibility of murder.'
After reading the headline news, he put it aside and unfolded Vergoten Dagblad. He wanted to compare their news for some insight, but mostly for entertainment. He read the headline news: 'Murdered Man Dumped in a Dumpster in Sloten. A man was brutally murdered and his dead body was dumped in a dumpster in broad daylight. The body was found by a man who denied all involvement in the case. He said he was just going to work when he found the body at around eight in the morning. The dead man had no identity present. Is it possible that he was a foreign spy?'
He stopped reading right away and face-palmed. Not long after, his food came, so he set aside the newspapers and ate his food. He poured some of his hot chocolate on his pancakes and sliced them into pieces. He put one piece into his mouth and the flavors made him smile. The warm oaty pancake topped with the crunchy peanut butter and soft banana was softened by the rich hot chocolate.
Mirjam came over and took the seat next to Graham. She was bored because there were not many customers there. She was really used to chat casually with them whenever she was free. That was why she was well-liked. Some regulars even came specially just to eat food while talking with them. They had felt that the diner was like home to them.
"What's on the news?" she asked Graham while taking a glance at the newspapers on the table.
"I've only read the headlines. It's about the dead man that was found near here," he told her.
"Oh, I remember! The panicked man who went shouting yesterday morning? Tell me about it! I didn't get to see the dead body. By the time I finished my shift, the Police were already there." she pleaded with curiosity.
"What can I say? There was a dead man in the alley. You can read in on the newspaper yourself," Graham shot a glance at the newspapers.
"But it's more fun to hear from someone who has seen it."
"Well, he was dead. They don't know yet what the cause of death is. But he looked terrified. And then the Police came," Graham gave her only a small detail.
"Do you think he was murdered?" she asked with wide eyes.
"It's a possibility. But there is no proof yet," he didn't confirm it nor deny it. He didn't want to spread panic around the neighborhood.
"Isn't it scary if he was actually murdered? Thinking the murderer is walking around free," she said half-jokingly, but Graham could hear some concern in her voice.
"Just stay safe. Don't walk around alone at night. I'm sure the Police will solve the case soon, as they always do," he said. He didn't want to undermine the danger, but he also had to make sure that people were not overcome with fear.
"I guess you're right. Speaking of which, you haven't paid for your food yesterday."
Graham face-palmed. He totally forgot about that.
"A bunch of you guys followed that shouting man and didn't come back. Most of them had paid this morning, so all is fine."
"I'm really sorry." he apologized wholeheartedly. Even though he always asked for discounts, he wouldn't deliberately not pay for something.
"And also you owe me two pennings from that expensive café. You gave me only five pennings, but your totals were seven," she said without malice.
Graham face-palmed yet again. "In my defense, I didn't know it would be that expensive." he said honestly, "I'll pay for everything."
"Thank you! You're the best!" Mirjam smiled and then went back to her post. There were new customers so she had to serve them.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
"Val, it was really embarrassing," he muttered.
Graham sat alone again. He picked up De Telegraaf and unfolded it. He skimmed through the news columns and his attention got caught by one. 'Family Massacre: Murderer Hasn't been Caught. The massacre that befell the Bakkers has until now been unsolved. The whole family was murdered in cold blood in their own house. The husband was initially suspected, but his body was found two days later in another house. Cornelia van Breemen, the owner of the house where Bram Bakker's body was found, has been declared a prime suspect and is currently missing. Contact the Police immediately if you think you have seen her. The Police will reward any information regarding her whereabouts.'
"So that's the official version. I'm sure the Police know she's dead. They must have divinators in their rank, but since there is no body, they must declare her missing instead."
He continued reading.
'Tension Rose between Federal Republic of Krefeld and Union of Labinsk Socialist Republics. Despite the incoming cold winter, the situation between the two countries is getting hotter. The Chancellor of the Federal Republic has demanded an official apology after a commercial flight flying from Siegen to Bredevoort, in the Republic of Tulp, was shot down over the sky of the Union. The Union's officials have not given any explanation and have remained silent on the topic. The passenger flight that was carrying civilians was shot down on Thursday, August 29. No survivors have been found despite rescue attempts from various parties.
Graham put down the newspaper. His mood was affected by the news. He hoped there would be no more wars because he hated them to his core. He finished his food and called for Mirjam to pay. He also paid off his debt. Once he finished paying, he said,
"Here is the interest payment," he handed her the two newspapers and left.
His destination was Bloemstraat. It would take him twenty-five minutes to go there by motor carriage. He stopped one and got in. After he paid nine pennings to the driver, he got off and looked around the street. If Grotemarktstraat was the center of stores and supermarkets, Bloemstraat was the center of businesses.
The street was six lanes wide with a lot of motor carriages and bicycles passing by. There were a lot of people in the street, going to various different locations. There were a lot of tall buildings that looked like they reached the sky. The walls of buildings made him feel like he was in a concrete forest. It would take too long to walk down the street because the street itself was split into many sections: Bloemstraat North, East, South, and West, not to mention the many alleyways scattered around.
Graham walked up to a man sitting down on a bench reading a newspaper.
"Good afternoon."
The man put down his newspaper and looked at Graham.
"Do you know if there is an advertising company nearby?" he asked politely.
The man thought for a while and said, "I don't remember the detail, but I think there is one over there. Five minutes away from here." he pointed South.
"Thank you."
The man nodded and got back to reading his newspaper.
Graham walked in the direction that the man pointed at and after walking for a while, finally he stopped in front of a building. Even though he had never been there before, he recognized the building at a spiritual level. It was the building that appeared in his divination. Although the image was blurry, it perfectly matched the one he had in mind.
The company had a sign at the front. It was called 'Fast Media Advertising'. The building itself had seven floors and looked quite modern. There were a lot of people entering and exiting the building. Graham felt rather out of place. It felt as if he was in another era.
He entered the building through the revolving door and came up to the reception desk. The was a woman donned in a lot of makeup sitting behind the curved black desk. She was filing her fingernails while sitting leaning far back on her chair. When she saw Graham, she looked slightly surprised and tidied up her hair and clothes and sat straight.
"Good afternoon. Can I help you?" she said with a friendly voice, but it sounded like she had said the same line over and over. She smiled really widely.
"Hello. I'm looking for Mr. Dechant. Is he in today?"
"Which Mr. Dechant are you looking for, Mr....?"
"Miller. Call me Miller. Is there more than one Mr. Dechant? I'm looking for Étienne Dechant. " he lied about his name and was somewhat surprised by her statement.
"Yes. What are the chances, right? They are both non-natives and they work at the same company!" she said excitedly. "Mr. Étienne? I haven't seen him in a while. I'll call his department. Give me a minute." she opened her logbook and called the number of Étienne Dechant's department.
Graham waited and watched as she started talking on the office landline. After asking about Étienne Dechant, she didn't hang up the phone but chatted for a while about topics Graham had no interest in. Her voice was high-pitched and could sound annoying to listen to for a prolonged period, but she was friendly, so probably people didn't mind that much.
After waiting for what felt like forever, Graham finally got annoyed.
"Val, should we smack her in the head or what?" he muttered. He then pretended to clear his throat audibly.
"Ahem!"
The receptionist seemed taken aback and realized someone was waiting for her. She quickly said goodbye to the person on the other side of the landline.
"I'm so sorry I got carried away." she apologized embarrassedly. "Mr. Étienne is taking a week off. He won't be in until next week."
"That's alright then. Can you tell me everything you know about him?" Graham looked at her in the eyes and his eyes glowed red under his contact lenses. "And you cannot tell anyone about my visit because this is a sensitive matter."
She looked confused at first and then started talking in her usual chatty manner. "Mr. Étienne doesn't really associate a lot with people. He prefers to keep to himself. And his Rodin accent is very apparent when he speaks. He never stands out, really. I've never heard him get in trouble."
"When did he start working here?"
"He started about two years ago. He moved from Rodin to work in this country. That's what I heard. Oh, and he is single. He looks really young for someone over forty. Some of my friends were hitting on him but he didn't respond. We start to think that he might be gay." she shrugged.
Graham noted all the information in his notebook, although some of it was really not important.
"In fact, I've never seen Mr. Étienne with any woman, at all. Or with anyone, really. He really is a strange man. I wonder why he moved out of his country." she continued gossiping.
"Who is the closest to him? I mean, who is the best person to ask about him?"
"No one, really. As for the best person, you are talking to her. I know all the gossips going around in this office." she said proudly.
"Val, I don't think we'll get anything useful out of this exciting conversation," he muttered sarcastically.
"Sorry, I didn't hear you. Can you repeat that?" she said while moving her chair closer towards the desk.
"No, it was nothing. Anything else you can tell me about him?" he brushed it aside.
"Hmm..." she thought for a while, her index finger tapping her lips. "Last week he looked anxious, like stressed. Maybe that's why he is taking the week off."
"What do you mean?" Graham got interested.
"He looked like he didn't sleep. His eyes had those black circles, you know. And he really didn't focus at all. People said he wasn't listening to any of them when they tried to talk to him. Maybe he was thinking about something. I don't know about his personal life so I cannot tell you what it is."
"Did he look scared to you?" he asked, trying to confirm his theory.
"Now that you mention it, maybe he did look scared. He would often look around after exiting the office. I can see it clearly from here, you see?"
"Anything else?"
"Nothing. That's all I know. Do you also want to know about the other Mr. Dechant?" she said excitedly.
"Not interested. Maybe next time." Graham refused. He really didn't want to hear her gossip about another coworker and he was not interested in the other Mr. Dechant unless he was related to the case. "Thank you for your trouble."
"You are welcome!" the receptionist smiled at Graham and went back to filing her nails.
Graham walked out of the office building while speaking in a low voice,
"Val, I think I have an idea what the bizarre image is."