A New Faith: Part 1: Chapter 3

Alia went to her desk and started dictating the preliminary case notes. But her mind kept wandering all over the place. Then Maria called and she reluctantly decided to answer it.

“Yeah…” said Alia noncommittally.

“Looks like our own Phryne has not just one but two murder mysteries to solve now!” Maria chuckled.

For someone who created shows for a living, Maria simply couldn’t be bothered to read the room. But then that’s how Maria was, a bundle of emotions that was always leaking this way and that. Most folks who met Maria for the first time, struggled to understand her constant mood shifts and usually ended up being annoyed with her. Alia had, instead, immediately fallen in love with that kaleidoscope.

At the moment, though, Alia was simply not up for Maria’s effervescence. She was about to make an excuse and hang up when Maria blurted out, “our show, today, had to be postponed because Nadeem was our only flautist and that instrument is one of the crucial elements of the soundtrack.”

“What the… how the hell do you know Nadeem is the one who died?” Alia was flabbergasted.

“It is all over social media. Some passerby must have recognized him while you guys were doing whatever it is that you do. I even saw a photo of his body in some clip. It is him alright.”

Alia made a face.

“So this guy was a musician?” Alia was waving Carlos over to her desk as she put Maria on the speaker-phone.

“Yes and no. He plays the flute. Quite well, I must say. But he works at the concert hall as one of the sound technicians. We had been rehearsing at the hall over the last couple of weeks and he used to hang out with my musicians all the time. When he heard that our regular flautist was sick, he auditioned. And I thought he was a good fit.”

“How well did you know him?”

“Hardly. I didn’t speak to him much. The music director worked with him. I probably told him something or the other about the music piece while we were rehearsing.”

“Thanks! I will call you later,” Alia hung up and turned to Carlos. She was about to tell him to call the concert hall when he interrupted, “I had found his place of work and I had already set up an appointment to meet with the assistant manager in about an hour.”

“Great! Let me finish my notes and we can go. We can grab some breakfast on the way. I am famished.”

Alia and Carlos got on the tram. It was not particularly crowded that early in the day. The news flashing on the TV had not yet mentioned the second murder. Sonia would issue a press release later in the day. 

Both of them made a beeline for the breakfast counter in the tram. They bought Turkish coffee and a couple of flaky pastries. Then drifted apart as they dug into their pastries. Both of them had things on their mind.

Carlos was busy formulating the questions that he wanted to ask Nadeem’s colleagues. Alia was trying to figure out where her discomfort was coming from and also what that recurring dream meant. The ache in her head had merely receded in the background with all that was going on. She automatically touched her head to see if there was any swelling. And sure enough, there was some. Luckily, it was hidden by the bandana she was still wearing. 

It was another lovely summer morning. The streets were starting to fill up with folks strolling to work. Some were lazily riding their bikes or coasting on their skateboards. Cars were not allowed in Sequoia which had been a total bummer for people like Nadia, Alia’s colleague. Nadia had grown up in a nomadic tribe in Tunisia where her male relatives routinely raced horses and camels. If they had diesel to spare, they would race the jeeps and pickup trucks .

Of course, Nadia was never allowed to race anything at all. But that didn’t stop her from dreaming about it all the time. She had been absolutely fascinated with car-racing ever since she had seen the Fast-and-Furious movies. One of the reasons why she had applied for Sequoian citizenship was because the city was in Norway where women were allowed to drive cars. She was crestfallen when she arrived and saw that cars simply didn’t exist in the city.

The few professions that offered at least some use for a car-like vehicle included police and freight transport. Driving a freight van seemed way too boring for someone like her. She was a quintessential extrovert. So, police it was. Not that she got to drive around in a car with the flashing lights and the blaring siren. But there were at least some occasions when she was asked to drive an all-terrain vehicle outside the city. It always cracked up Alia whenever Nadia would try to create elaborate schemes to venture out of the city on official business. That trick rarely worked on Sonia. But Nadia never gave up trying.

Alia’s thoughts were just not coalescing that morning. She gave up trying to figure out her situation and let her gaze wander outside. This was a familiar route. It had some of the best murals in the city. A few days ago, Maria had dragged her there to check out a new one. They had gone late at night because it was supposed to be viewed in the dark. As the tram winded its way down the street, Alia moved closer to the window to see how the mural looked during daytime. She was stunned to see that it had been painted over already.

The one she had seen was that of an ethereal waterfall with exotic trees and animals arranged all around it. She had been entranced by it for a long time. And had assumed that because of its popularity, no one was likely to paint over that mural any time soon. But lo and behold, she was now looking at a gorgeous portrait of a young woman with ravishing hair cascading along the left side of the face. Subtle tattoos and jewelry covered the face and exposed neck.

She stared at the beguiling face. She was about to comment to Carlos about how quickly that waterfall mural had been painted over when it suddenly hit her. It hadn’t been painted over at all. It was the same mural. Because of the magic of using paints with distinct chemical properties, the artists were able to juxtapose two entirely different paintings.

The shimmering waterfall at night was the same as the cascading hair of the girl during the day. Unbelievable! Alia had an excellent memory and she could immediately spot all the things from the night-time painting that were transformed in light. She couldn't help clapping at this astonishing feat.

Then the tram entered the next block and reality crashed into her brief sojourn of art appreciation. She winced. Just like that day-night painting, maybe there was another way to look at her thoughts where they would make perfect sense.

She was experiencing really strange emotions. Sometimes they were laced with some sort of anxiety. Sure, she was responsible for solving these cases. But it was a job. Nothing more, nothing less. It was not as if someone was going to fire her if she failed. At other times, she felt fearful. This was absurd. Why would she be afraid? Of what? There was anger, too. That could be partially explained by the fact that she held herself to a pretty high standard and the failure to solve the first murder was gnawing at her pride. She was a damn good detective and yet, she had gotten nowhere in solving the first murder.

The new feeling of dread was, probably, because of the second murder and the off-hand comment by Sonia about serial killers. That was the last thing she wanted. Serial killer stories are nice for TV shows and movies. In the real world, they can mess up entire communities for years, sometimes decades. She had read lots of case-histories as part of her training. 

Her early assessment of the stark differences between the two murders strongly suggested that the perpetrators were different. Unless this was some really weird psychopath who went out of their way to change their methods for each kill. It hadn’t happened before but that was no guarantee that it would never happen. The second murder just felt really different than the first one. She was almost hundred percent sure that they were completely unconnected.