It was a cold December evening. I was strolling past the Pike Place Street when someone caught my attention from outside the glass pane.
She sat in the Starbucks cafe, sipping her coffee and staring out of the window. The blood stained knife lay next to her handbag, covered with her blue silk scarf.
These past few days were witness to a series of murders in Seattle region. It was all over the news. While the investigations were on, it was certain that the suspect was a young lady.
I knew by instinct that the killer
was in front of me. My mind was racing, my heart was thumping. I wanted to be
as near to my suspect as possible, and start my keen observation. I checked the
queue outside the entrance door.
This was the first
Starbucks opened way back in 1971. And it’s mostly very crowded with people
from all over the world. Having attained a cult status, people don’t mind
standing in a long queue here. I quickly joined the queue. The wait to reach
inside seemed endless. As I entered the cafe, I was lucky to get a seat not too
far from her.
By instinct, I was
sure that the knife hidden under her scarf was the murder weapon. The air
around smelt of blood.
Crime novels have
always excited me, and here was my chance to witness some action in real life. Somehow, I knew my moment of glory was
ticking. I could imagine my name all over the news tomorrow, as the one who got
the mysterious serial killer nabbed. I even saw my picture captioned, ‘Sherlock Holmes Reloaded’.
Thankfully, a group
of students jabbering besides my table pulled me out of my dream world. So, I
went back to do what I was required to do and something that I take pride in.
I started to
observe my suspect for a while. It just felt unbelievable that such a young pretty
face could have been a serial killer.
What was she
thinking? Why would she be so dumb to bring the murder weapon to a public
place? Had she lost her mind? Maybe she was done with the last murder on her
list. And now there was no fear left inside her.
I was confident
enough to call 911. That would be the logical thing to do and also bring me
instant fame. But, then, the writer inside stopped me. This was a great chance
to observe an interesting character. Possibly a psycho character. This
experience would be priceless and would be crucial in my future writings. So, I
decided to hang on for a while.
Human emotions have
always fascinated me. I have always
believed that real emotions are very difficult to disguise.
Every time I
managed to have a good look at her, I could see a new expression showing up.
She had an intense
look made equally vulnerable by the fear encompassed in her deep black eyes.
She seemed conscious of the blue scarf lying beside her.
There was a tinge
of nervousness. Of course, she knew what was going to happen. She would be
caught eventually.
Then there was
panic. She seemed to be calling someone frantically, but wasn’t getting
connected. There might be someone out there to rescue her.
As she sipped her
coffee, there were moments when a certain evil satisfaction was evident on her
face. As if, she had just accomplished an important mission. As if, she just
found a new meaning in her life.
And few moments
later, as she looked at the knife beneath her scarf, anguish filled her eyes.
As if, she was witness to the most painful thing moments earlier.
Was it just me who
could really see through these Rainbow of
Expressions?
All this while, I
managed to avoid eye contact with her, lest she gets suspicious.
This went on for
almost an hour. And then, it seemed as though she was about to leave.
That was it. I did
what I was procrastinating for a while. I dialed 911.
“I have to make sure she doesn’t leave in the
next few minutes”, I pondered. What should I do? Luckily for me, a teenage
girl came frantically from the other corner of the café. She looked nervous
with excitement and started conversing with my suspect. I strained to hear
their conversation but could not hear amidst the noise from all over the place.
Seconds later, another
girl approached with a grin as she joined the ‘Suspect’ table. Of course, I was confused. These girls were dealing
with a serial killer here. Police should be here anytime now. I could not do
anything but wait.
But as a group of
boys approached the suspect, I knew something was amiss. Immediately I ran over
to the billing counter and asked if someone knew my suspect.
It turned out that
my assumed ‘suspect’ was a budding TV
actress, Sheena Thomas. She was a firm believer in method acting. She was playing
the character of a psycho serial killer who comes regularly to Starbucks to
choose her victims.
For the past few
weeks, Sheena had been regularly coming over to Starbucks preparing herself for
her role. She would disguise herself wearing different hair wigs and scarfs.
And today, she was preparing for the last episode where she comes along with
the murder weapon.
Of course, there
was no blood on the knife. It was red paint.
Now I knew why I
could witness the rainbow of expressions. She, indeed, was a great actress.
What the hell was I
going to tell the police officer who was about to come? I guess my face would
also portray a rainbow of expressions. 7 shades of embarrassment!!
