As usual, in studying someone, I have to write the story. Especially Mr. Cake, who ever since he said he recognized me as his student, had never given me any insight into detective knowledge. Instead of contradicting myself, I at least tried to be like Watson, Sherlock Holmes' best friend. It's quite difficult.
Mr. Cake, that naturally random haired man, who always gets the attention of girls and even women, because of his cooking and deduction skills, only gave me the knowledge of being a friendly waiter. He also said that women would be more attractive if they could cook, so he taught me that too. Huft, actually quite far from what I imagined. Somehow instead of being a detective, I'm more ready to be a servant.
Even so I'm quite grateful today, where it was a quiet drizzle, the look on Mr. Cake that more cheerful now was hundred eighty degrees different from three days ago. Well, yesterday no one entered this place. I even advised him to temporarily close and open overtime on weekends. But Mr. Cake refuses and sticks with his point of view, although I can feel his hands shaking a bit when he holds my shoulder. It's pretty funny when you think about it, but it's worrying.
“Seven hundred… Seven hundred and fifty eight…”
"You seem very pleased, Mr Cake?" I asked while wiping the table.
“Can you guess, Feline? Seven hundred and sixty eight pounds! It's like bringing back yesterday's. Thanks to the hard work of this handsome and dashing man,” He said in a relaxed and proud tone.
I smiled wryly as I looked away, “As you wish, Mr Cake.”
After wiping all the tables, I had previously mopped the floor as well. This afternoon we seem to be closing first, considering the sale is concurrently with yesterday's. Besides, it's close to stocking time, we need some more ingredients.
"Put down your washcloth. You can rest first, Feline.” Mr. Cake walked towards the kitchen.
“Just, a little bit,”
The thing I like the most is cleaning the glass. For some reason, after spraying the cleaning fluid and then wiping it, it feels quite satisfying. The wind that blows through the ventilation gaps, the smell of rain water that seems to calm the soul and relaxes me slowly. Behind the drizzle, a group of people activity some people looking for food at another shop, or even looking for a ride to go home while chatting under an umbrella. One of my favourites, the man in the black suit with a bowler hat similar to Mr. Cake usually wears, he blows a cigar while enjoying the drizzle. Even though he was wearing an umbrella, I guess his slightly shaking hands couldn't be covered by the warmth of the cigarette. At least you should get home soon, I thought naughtily.
Not so crowded that it looks stifling, or quiet like a cemetery. Everything is evidenced in my smile that looks prosperous, I really whispered gratitude.
However, I saw one person. I walked a little towards the slightly blurry glass. I sprayed and then swung the rag again, my vision began to clear. One person, instead of wearing a worker-style uniform, was wearing a casual white dress, quite soaking wet. This person was against the rhythm of activity at this hour in general, the problem is she seems to be pacing around confused. The longer I watch, the more I don't understand this woman.
"Waiting for her boyfriend?" I said in a low voice.
I kept staring at her, until a hand touched my shoulder without realizing it.
.
.
"Huh!" My eyes jumped from their place, i was shocked.
"What’re you doing? I told you to put down your washcloth, we'll have tea together." he pointed at something on the table. “See, we still have red velvet? Isn't that what you like?"
For a moment I set the rhythm of the breath. Well, cake is still cake, I can't resist. I went straight to take a seat.
Such an ordinary looking day, quiet rest, drizzle, cakes and hot tea. Pretty special. My mouth is still chewing mercilessly, but I can understand why Mr. Cake glared at me.
“Are you feeling unwell?” Mr. Cake said as he was worried because my face was like a robot, mouth chewing eyes unblinking.
"Not. If that's true, then there's no way I can take two of the three pieces of this cake,” I replied calmly.
"Yeah, anyway your glutton is still there meaning it's in tip-top shape," He said nodding confidently.
Well, his straight words were like florets that stabbed me in the chest.
“Hmph! As usual, you're quite frank, aren't you?” I snorted back.
Mr. Cake took a sip of his favorite charmomile tea.
“So, why are you glaring from afar?”
I see, there's nothing to hide from him. But my mouth doubts, that these eyes can not ensure that information can be conveyed clearly.
“You see the big chest?
"Eh? What?"
“Cough~ I mean, you finally got attracted to the opposite sex?” Mr. Cake pretended to cough.
Actually I still hear what he said before. But I'm still hungry to eat the second cake.
"What does it mean? Of course I'm a normal woman!”
Mr. tone Cake is more and more like an old grandpa expecting grandchildren.
“And you found it behind the glass? Are you crazy about him?”
"What? That's not it, Mr. Cakes! It's about women."
And this is what makes it hard for me, about women, Mr. Cake must be like a smoldering fire.
He looked in all directions, his demeanor full of caution.
"Is she beautiful?"
Actually I'm not sure if he's still there. I showed it to Mr. Cake from behind the glass where I watched it from a distance.
"That's the person, Mr Cake."
He tried to narrow his eyes.
"You mean that casual white dress?"
"Uh huh."
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For some reason his face dimmed, he lost his charm.
"Well, you know, usually ignorance is bliss." he added, turning around. “So, Feline, let's just leave things in their place and…”
"Not your taste?"
He sighed. His steps stopped.
“Miss Feline, you seem to have misjudged me, it's not about appearance. I feel like it's just a problem for today's youth. Simple disinterested Cake,” he said in a heavy tone.
“I don't understand, Mr Cake. It's not like the usual you. Well, I don't mind you being a bit flirty. But you have to be a good problem solver.”
"F-flirty?" he said a little annoyed.
I immediately took the umbrella. I don't know why today I feel unstable. A little curious about this woman.
"You'd better have some hot tea ready."
I went out.
I met the woman who looked restless. Sure enough. While we chatted for a while, I felt Mr. Cake should find out soon enough. This time I have to admit, his instincts were a bit off.
We entered.
"Please, sit."
Mr. Cake delivered a pot of hot tea, along with a towel.
The woman did not take the towel, but took a sip of the warm tea that Mr. Cake pour into an empty cup.
“I-I have a problem. But I don't know if anyone can help?” She suddenly panicked.
Mr. Cake raised an eyebrow, while I calm the woman down.
“Sorry, I'm Pamina Lombardi. My husband isn't back home, I'm worried."
"Ah, Signora Lombardi, if I may ask, how long has it been?"
“I just came back yesterday from Seville. About two in the morning,"
Me and Mr. Cake looked at each other. I think our thoughts are the same, we both can't understand the problem. I mean, if she didn't even know herself, then why wait in this place? After all, it wasn't even days.
Mr. Cake was still looking at the woman. Well, she is indeed charming. In addition to her hair in a ponytail resembling a bun, she uses a beautiful black eye shadow. But I'm sure Mr. Cake looked impolitely at the slightly wet clothes.
“I-is something wrong?” said the somewhat embarrassed woman who slightly thought the same as me.
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"Sorry, signora. So how did you find out that your husband went missing yesterday? Are you sure it wasn't a misunderstanding?”
Mrs Lombardi explained that when she came home, her house was locked tightly. Mrs. Lombardi also showed her cell phone that her husband had ordered to pick up her at five o'clock in the morning. Luckily she had an extra key with her. She added that this was unusual. The problem is that from now on she does not see her husband again.
"Then I found this letter near the front drawer."
ns 172.71.254.205da2
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