Vignette: Spice of Life

Ginger shivers in the booth of the little diner. “Maybe eating somewhere new will break me out of this rut,” she muses to herself. “And didn’t another detective recommend it recently?”

The proprietor, Fred — a slight middle-aged man with a beatific smile — greets her warmly. “How about some nice, hot soup to warm you up, miss?”

“If that’s what you recommend, okay,” Ginger smiles back.

“Yes ma’am,” Fred gives a little bow. “This is the only place in the world you can get it. My own creation.”

Fred turns and leaves for the kitchen. Ginger closes her eyes and massages her temples. This case. This case has her mind in turmoil. No one in her detective squad has ever heard anything like it. Hell, no one she has talked to in any law enforcement agency anywhere has heard anything like it. And now it has happened for the third time. Three times in as many months.

Three times make it a serial, but serial what? Some madman is abducting young mothers with their infant children. He tortures the women — there’s no other word for it. He makes them watch their child being murdered. Makes them watch, the bastard. But then, moments later returns the child unharmed.

No one knows how he’s making such a convincing display of the horror. Hypnosis? CGI? The women all swear they saw their child die. It seemed completely real. And then, perhaps most inexplicable of all, when the children are returned he collects the mother’s tears. And then he let’s them go.

“Here’s your soup, ma’am,” Fred places the steaming bowl on the table. “Careful, it’s piping hot.”

“Thank you,” Ginger stirs the hot liquid. “This is your own creation you said?”

“Oh yes. And very special. One of the ingredients is very hard to come by. This is only the third time I’ve been able to make it.”

Third time. She turns her gaze from Fred’s inscrutable smile to the wall behind him where the diner specials are neatly printed in colored chalk.

Soup du jour: larmes de joie

[Note: Learn more about Fred and Ginger here. ~Tim 6 Dec 2009]