Dessert & Cosplay

The dotted lines glared back at her. Sweetness permeated the air, brought the bittersweet memories into mind. A name flew out of her mouth. The thing stared at her, making her mouth dry. A smile slowly crept up her face; her eyes crinkled and twinkled like the sunlight coming into the glass windows of the coffee shop.

“Am I dreaming?” She inched closer to the person sitting in front of her.

“No. And you are not crazy too.”

“Ha; ha; very funny.”

“So, are you in or are you out? This is a chance of a lifetime,” said the hobbit-like man in front of her.

“What’s the catch? There usually is. Spill it out.”

“Okay, you are right. There are a few things. As you can see in the contract, there are some terms and conditions to be fulfilled.”

“Which are? Feel free to fill me in.” She said behind the big mountain of parfait. She was gazing at the dessert longingly when the hobbit grabbed the spoon from her hand.

“Eat later. Now that I’ve seen you, I would suggest that you eat less. Better yet, please refrain from eating during the duration of the contract. Plump is not an attractive trait, my dear.” He volunteered his opinion at the grim faced lady.

“Oh, really? I need to starve myself to death during the period I am needed for this task? Do I look plump to you? The last question was a rhetorical if you missed it. There’s no way in hell I’m going to stop stuffing myself with food.” She took the spoon back and helped herself to the parfait.

“Oh, my! Such a crude language coming from a lady.” He said, totally mortified.

“Man, you are such a queer. Hmm this is nice. I’m gonna order for seconds.” Before she could put her hand up to call the waiter, he clenched her wrist.

“Don’t you dare call me a queer or order another parfait.”

“Fine, ‘Mr. I am not a queer’. Let’s get back to business then. How much is my share?”

“One percent.” He let go of her wrist and began to clean his spectacles.

“Cheapskate. I deserve much more than a mere one percent.” She was halfway into her parfait.

“I think that’s a reasonable offer. Your part in this is so insignificant.”

“Oh really? If I am so insignificant,” She made an air quote on the last word and continued, “why do you need me in the first place?”

“It is simple. You will be the distraction.”

“Huh? How much is one percent, anyway.”

“Give or take, about…five thousand.”

She sputtered the dessert, a big chunk of raspberry landed on his face.

“Sorry about that.” She apologized as he began wiping away the mess from his face.

“Just sign here and here,” he pointed to the contract.

“Done. When can I get the money?” She asked after signing the document with her name, Huda.

“You can start first thing tomorrow morning.”

“Wait,” she stopped him as he began to leave the table.

“What exactly do I need to do?”

“Enjoy your freedom while it last,” was his parting words.

All she said was, “Eh?”

The next morning, she was robbed of her beauty sleep when she received an abrupt wake up call from the hobbit. He gave her terse instructions on the location and attire for her first day. She nodded groggily to the phone. Twenty minutes later, she was still dozing in bed before the insistent knock on her door startled her.

“Go away,” she swatted the air and snored softly.

“Tardiness will not be accepted, Miss Huda. Please get ready. We are leaving in ten minutes.” Does that sound like the hobbit? How did he get in here?!

“How did you get in?” She asked while scratching her hair and gave him a big yawn.

“Your landlady let me in. I brought your uniform with me. Get up and be ready in five. Or you will face the consequences.” The hobbit threatened.

Huda set a snail-like pace to the bathroom and went into the car in another turtle-like step. She set her eyes on the hobbit and he was glowing red. She just gave him a sleepy yawn and off they went to their destination.

A few hours later…

“I’m done here.” Huda slapped her maid cap on the counter top and walked out on a gaping open mouth hobbit. She had spent five hours cleaning and dusting a big mansion that almost resembles a museum.

“Hold!” He commanded as she reached the foyer.

At the back of her mind, the command seemed like an absolute challenge to her. She lunged for him and grabbed hold the lapels of his jacket and gave him one of her infamous stares. He stepped backward and gulped.

“Wh-what I meant to say was, for you to stay back a while until the master arrives.” The man stammered.

“And do what? I have to distract him?” She shoved the hobbit out from her line of vision.

“Go clean his room or something. Just make sure you stay with him at all times.” The hobbit spoke through clenched teeth. She hated the way he grinded them when he was pissed.

“How old was the young master again?”

“He’s older than you.”

“Do tell me why does he need a nanny? Is he retarded?” She whispered the later.

“He..urm,” the hobbit cleared his throat nervously before continuing, “has this fascinations with girls like you in uniforms.”

“What?! I’m supposed to be in the same room with that pervert? No way, dude! I’m outta here.”

“If you leave now, there will be no money for you.”

“Whatever. I don’t care. Goodbye, hobbit.”

The nickname did not escape him when he replied, “You have signed the contract, Miss Huda. By the way, you can call me Kelvin. I appreciate it if you ceased calling me hobbit. I’m rather sensitive with nicknames that have to do with my stature or height.”

“Oh, you do?” She cooed in a baby-like voice.

“Tough luck, mister. I’ll leave the uniform on my way out.”

“What’s all this commotion, Kelvin?” A new voice came from the wide open front door of the house.

Huda’s courage shriveled to tiny specks of dust as she took a glimpsed at the newcomer. My goodness! He is a rather formidable looking guy.

“I am very sorry, sir. I was just telling the new maid to clean your room, sir.”

“What seems to be the problem then?” His eyes found hers.

Oh, boy. I am in hell.

She fidgeted uncomfortably under his piercing gaze.

“She was just on her way, sir. You may resume your task, Huda.” At the flick of his wrist she moved out of harms way and up the stairs, distancing herself from the master of the house.

“Who is she? I’ve never seen her around before.” The young master asked as he sat behind the mahogany desk in the library.

“She’s uh…new, sir. Would you like anything, sir? Coffee? Perhaps a light snack?”

“You may go, Kelvin. I don’t want to be disturbed until two. That will be all.”

Kelvin backed away and closed the door slowly with a resounding click.

Two hours went away in a slow and quiet pace. The small clock on the desk showed it was five minutes after two in the afternoon. Iqram massaged his aching neck. He stood up from the comfortable leather chair and went to find his butler.

Silence seemed so loud the moment he stepped into the foyer of his house. The air was damp and a bit stuffy. He loosened up the top button of his Armani shirt and headed straight to the kitchen.

"I am what everyone wants me to be." He heard a female voice coming from behind the open refrigerator.

"Where is Kelvin?" He said straight to the point without so much as a warning cough. The female hit her head on something. Hard. Her moans were mumbled until it became very clear who the recipient of the wound was.

"Where is Kelvin?" He demanded.

"How should I know? I am not his babysitter." She said while rubbing her sore temple and helping herself to a large piece of New York cheesecake. Heaven. Iqram stared at her with his mouth hanging wide open.

"Can I ask you a question?" Huda pushed up his hanging jaw closed.

"What are you anyway?" She continued, all the while forking another piece of cheesecake into her mouth.

"Just your ordinary guy next door." Iqram answered.

"Said Midas to the pauper. My guy next door did not have a mansion like this."

"Please help yourself to the delectable dessert in my house as long as you tell me where has my butler gone to."

"I think he went rende...rende... what's that word when you go out somewhere to have a secret meeting with your cook?"

"Rendezvous?"

"Bingo. That's it. By the way, I am Huda."

"Yes now I know. Apparently you enjoyed eating cakes. I assume that is your second piece?"

"I'm head over heels in love with dessert. Hehehe… actually this is my fourth. Want some?" She handed him the half eaten cake. He ignored it.

"You remind me of someone. Yes, I can see the resemblance." He inched his face closer to her.

"Who?" Huda waited with a mouthful of cheesecake.

"Mashimaro." He said with a poker face.

Loud explosion erupted out of nowhere. Smokes were coming from the back of the house. Iqram dashed outside to inspect the damages. His found his cook bawling her eyes out on the ground. His butler sprawled lifelessly in his lover's arms. Blood was everywhere. Half of Kelvin's guts and internal organs were out of his body.

"What happened here?!" He almost shouted the whole sentence to the busty cook.

"I- it happened so fast." And she continued weeping over her demise lover.

"I'll...go call for the police." Huda volunteered. She was finding an excuse to escape the nauseating scene. Her stomach content threatened to come out any second.

An hour later every person in the house was assembled in the library. A detective in his early forties looked into each one of them with his own theory. At this point, it seemed too early to incriminate a person responsible for the murder of Kelvin Ooi. Gathering proofs were the utmost importance to puzzle out this criminal offence.

Suspect #1: The cook

Age: 30

Connection with the victim: Lovers.

Marital status: Divorced.

Alibi: Claimed she was having a quarrel with her ex-husband in the garden when she heard a loud explosion a few minutes later.

Suspect #2: The ex-husband

Age: 44

Connection with the victim: Unknown.

Marital status: Divorced.

Alibi: Claimed he was just heading out towards his car when the victim warned him off about meeting with the cook. The brawl ended with the victim walking away alive with a little bruise on their cheeks. That was when he heard the loud boom and ran to the scene.

Suspect #3: Iqram (owner of the house)

Age: 28

Connection with the victim: Employee.

Marital status: Unknown.

Alibi: Claimed to be with his maid in the kitchen when the explosion occurred.

Suspect #4: Huda (the maid)

Age: 23

Connection with the victim: Unknown.

Marital status: Adamantly claimed to be single and available.

Alibi: Claimed she was with the master of the house and eating her fourth piece of cheesecake.

The detective closed his notepad and signaled for his subordinates to transfer the victim into the waiting ambulance for autopsy. The well-endowed cook was sniffling loudly in the arms of her ex.

"I would love to take all of you downtown and ask a few questions. But, I won't. We'll do it my way. I'm going to have every single one of you on house arrest. Until I say so, no one may leave the house."

"NO!" Both Huda and the ex-husband protested.

"Sure," the cook replied as she dabbed her wet cheeks. Iqram shrugged in agreement.

How to solve a murder case? A guide for dummy detectives.

Tip #1: Establish fear into your suspects.

A good inquisitor will be able to manipulate the emotions of the suspects. Show them who is in charge by assigning them in a low settee. You can stand up or sit on a higher desk so that you will be looking down at them.

Tip #2: Use a monotone voice when addressing a suspect. Do not forget to look at them like you already know who the real murderer/ess is.

Tip #3: Point your index finger when addressing your suspect. He/she would feel intimidated by this gesture.

Tip #4: Pace around your suspect so that they will feel edgy and hopefully fess up to the crime.

Tip #5: By now you should have successfully solved a murder case. Congratulations!

The detective was grinning to himself as he recalled the guide book he bought last week. "This should be a piece of cake," he mumbled to himself.

Iqram waited impatiently for the detective to finish his self-monologue near the bookshelves. Finally the old man turned around to face them and change his expression from a kid with his hands on a piece of candy to a stern headmaster facing students who needed a major attitude adjustment.

"I know who did it!" The cook volunteered after a few tedious round of non-stop questioning.

"It must be the new kid," she pointed at Huda.

"Yes, it must be her. Definitely," supported her ex-husband.

"Yes, blame it all on the new comer. Don't be daft. That is a false accusation. I was asked to be here. Let me rephrase that. I signed a contract which stated that I need to do something in this house in order to make me eligible to a generous amount of money." Huda defended.

"How generous?" Iqram cut the detective's reply.

"I have the right to hire a lawyer before I answer any of the questions."

"Not unless you are guilty of the crime," he replied cynically.

"The only reason I'm here is because of the five thousand that I will received once I met the terms of the contract."

"Impossible. Why Kelvin would offer so much money? Money that doesn’t belong to him." The cook accused. The ex-husband remained quiet. And the detective...well he was in the armchair, sulking away because his chance to be the hero of the day was robbed from him.

The end? Not yet. We need to know who killed Kelvin Ooi?

Excerpts from the mind of the detective:

Damn! I need to stay focus on this case and stop thinking about the beautiful and very sexy cook. Think, think. If I were a murderer, where would I put the murder weapon? In the kitchen? But that would lead me to suspect the adorable lady cook. I can't do that. Poor thing. Aha! That leaves me with three suspects- the employer, the kid maid and the ex-husband. It could be a crime of passion. I have to come up with a plan to reveal that the ex-husband is the real criminal.

Excerpts from the mind of the maid:

I need food. I hope there will be some mango pudding left in the fridge. Would the detective mind if I go to the kitchen for a while? Stop glaring at me! Man, this Iqram guy gives me the creeps. Oh, my God! I'll bet all my money that he is the killer. Look here you old detective! I know who killed Kelvin Ooi! What is it with men and women with well-endowed assets?! Stop looking at the cook, will you?

Excerpts from the mind of the ex-husband:

Gotta get out of here before they find out. Take a deep breath. Count to ten. I need to divert the attention to someone in this room. The maid? It wouldn’t be very convincing. The master of the house? Damn him! Why does he have to look so confident? That leaves me with my lovely ex-wife. I love you dear, but I need to shift all the blame to you, darling. Don't worry. I'll visit you in prison later.

Excerpts from the mind of the cook:

Fool! He was supposed to put that thing in my ex's car. Now what am I going to do with all those debts? Maybe I could pursue the master of the house. Okay, pout the lips and show off my lovely assets. Surely no man can resist a woman's charm and beauty. This will be like taking a candy from a baby. Hahahaha...

Excerpts from the mind of the master of the house:

SYSTEM ERROR. SIGNAL HAS BEEN BLOCKED. PLEASE CONTACT THE ADMINISTRATOR FOR FURTHER ASSISTANCE.

***

"Uncle, I want to go and get something to eat. You want anything? Anyone?" Huda broke the silence. The detective wanted to say something but was distracted by the cook. As always!

"I'll go with you. I'm thirsty myself," offered the ex-husband.

In the kitchen, Huda grabbed the sleeve of the ex-husband's shirt fiercely and whispered, "I know who the killer is."

The man seemed to perspire all of a sudden and tried to remain calm, "Who?"

"Iqram. Shhh...I suggest we pretend to ask assistance from the detective and then we break the news to him."

Great! A new scapegoat. If she starts suspecting him, then my lovely wife won't have to bear the blame. I'll just play along.

"Good idea. Let's go," he said. As he began to leave, Huda saw Iqram leaning against the doorframe.

"Wh-what are you doing here?" That was her voice. It sounded like a croaking frog.

"I was worried about leaving you alone with this abuser." He brought her to his side and she was scared and giddy at the same time.

"Watch it, boy. I don't even like small kids." The older man remarked as he walked by them.

"You are shivering. Cold?"

"No." She said forcefully.

"Huda, are you by any chance scared of me?" There he goes again. Spot on.

"Don't be ridiculous. Why would I be? Unless you are the murderer of course."

"Of course. So, any last wishes before I end your life?"

"Are you telling me the truth?"

"Sure if that's what you want it to be. Your wish?"

"Your name."

"What of it?"

"I want to know your real name before you end my life." That was her fake courage talking so calmly.

"Shahrul Iqram."

"Oh my," she said breathlessly.

"Close your eyes. I promise it would be painless."

"Okay," and she closed her eyes like a very stupid person. Hello?! Any sane person would scream and run for their life, wouldn't they?

It happened so fast that Huda managed to catch her last breath before collapsing on the floor. He chuckled and step over her to go to the fridge. She blinked. Once. Twice. He kissed her! On her forehead. Her heart just went on a rollercoaster ride back then. Of all the stupidest thing that could have happened to her this was the most embarrassing so far. Thank you so much.(Not!)

"Hey I found a mango pudding with your name on it. Can I have it? Kinda hungry." He scooped the yellow jelly into his mouth and leaned on the fridge door casually.

Meanwhile in the libary, the detective was drooling all over the cook. He was hanging his heart out like a lovesick puppy. That was when the ex-husband entered the scene; his veins began to become visible on his temple. No one dared to look at his wife that way before. Not if they treasure their lives more.

"Get your filthy hands of my wife!" The ex-husband roared and lunged for the startled cop. Chaos came knocking at last. Bloodshed was inevitable. The devil just watched from a hidden passage and rubbed its hands gleefully.

"I just loooove real life drama." The cloaked man whispered to himself.

"Robbie! Stop that. You are turning him into a pulp. I'm not going down with two murder charges in one day!"

The detective was left lying helplessly on the carpeted floor. He was unconscious and bleeding profusely through his broken nose and split lips. The real murderer was safe in hiding.

"Let the last survivor thrived!" He clenched his gloved hands on a cane. The black leather was tight on his well-manicured hands.

***

“I suggest we call an ambulance and the police; again.” The elder woman spoke.

“No. So, you could blame it all on me?” Robbie puffed out the smoke from his cigar and frowned.

“Well, you were a bit defensive when you saw Nick talking to me before you punch him senseless.”

“Now, now kids. There’s no point in crying over spilt milk.” Iqram looked at the bruised detective and continued, “I’ll go call for help. You,” he pointed to his cook, “Please restraint your overdosed testosterone ex-husband of yours from doing any more damages.”

He went to the only working telephone in the house which is in the library. Before he could even dial the number, a curse came out from his mouth.

“The line’s dead. All the other telephone in the house is broken and I smell something fishy about all this.”

“I don’t smell anything,” Huda stood up from her perch on one of the sofa’s arms.

“I say one of us is the real murderer and he,” Robbie scanned the occupants in the room, “or she is planning on shutting us all up for good.”

“Oh, Robbie. Have you been reading those rubbish books again?”

“Those are mind broadening books my dear. You should try reading one someday.”

“Hey, I don’t mean to be a busybody or anything, but aren’t you guys supposed to be divorced?” Huda peered at both of the seemly calm and intimate couple seated in the loveseat.

“We are still friends.” The cook replied.

“What she said,” echoed the ex-husband.

A loud applause came from behind the bookshelves. All of them froze as they watched one of the shelves became loose and opened up. A grinning old man in his eighties stepped out from his hiding place.

“You!” The three conscious occupants in the room gasped.

“Good evening ladies, gentlemen. Please get yourselves comfortable.”

“I’m thinking you planned all this?” Iqram spoke to the frail looking man.

“Brilliant deduction, grandson. You were always the smart one in the family.”

“Grandson? Who is he, Iqram?” Huda questioned the identity of the newcomer and murderer.

“He’s the real owner of the house. And here I thought I killed you a month ago,” Was that the cook, the ex-husband or Iqram? Everything was in chaos.

“Darling, I promised you on my deathbed that I will take good care of you.”

Darling? Eew the cook was having an affair with the old man too? Unbelievable. Huda shuddered.

“I couldn’t find the will. I guess he must have stashed it somewhere,” Robbie clenched his fists tight.

“Why am I here? I’m not playing one of your sick jokes anymore. You can keep the money.” The silent grandson finally spoke. His other reaction was yawning as if the prospect of being killed by his own flesh and blood was an everyday occurrence.

“You bas-”

“Keep quite, Robbie. I get the feeling that the old crone dangled money in front of our eyes, knowing that we can’t resist the temptation.” Out of the blue, the cook had become so smart.

I knew she was faking that ‘dumb blond’ act. “I don’t even know him. I never lay eyes on him in my entire life. Where am I in this equation anyway?” The maid scratched her head.

“I liked you the first time I saw you running pass me with your careless smile,” the murderer said.

“Why Kelvin?” Obviously somebody has to ask for the motive of the murder.

“He knew too much and I decided to tempt fate. Killing him was so much fun,” he laughed and stroked his stubble chin.

“Grandfather, you are so sick. I love you but you need to get help. Your mind is evil. Mom and dad were right cautioning me about you before I came here.”

“Ah, how’s my lovely daughter doing? I missed hugging her.”

“You know what? Scratch the part where I said I love you. I lied. You let her live through a living nightmare when you raped her. I thank god the day dad came to rescue her.”

“What the hell are you talking about? She loved it. Besides, I think she conceived you on the night she ran away with that man. You are the mirror image of me when I was younger. I want you to be my heir when I’m gone.”

“Don’t count your luck you sicko! Your daughter ran a paternity test when I was conceived not long after she married my dad. Sorry to burst your dream bubble, I am their legitimate son.” Iqram ran his hand through his hair and watched the old man’s expression turned sour.

“All these years I’ve been serving you and not once I think about those younger maids you hired were used to…to…No wonder they had a resemblance to your daughter. I think I’m going to be sick.” The cook was turning green.

Huda was already seeking protection from Iqram. She went to stand next to him and had to control her fear. Why can’t this be like any other normal jobs?

“Check mate, grandfather. I called the police on my handphone earlier,” Iqram took out a black handphone from his trousers pocket.

“Wh-when?” The old man stammered.

“I hear police sirens. I’m glad all this will be over,” both Robbie and his ex-wife agreed.

“The last performance is not done yet, my dear audiences. I have bullets left for two,” he pointed the hidden gun at them.

“I don’t think that is a wise move,” the detective aimed his gun at the murderer.

“Hmm, I wonder which one of you I should take with me.” The man seemed to be lost in his own world.

“Oh yes, I will need an angel in hell, won’t I? Huda, you are a sight for sore eyes. I’m extending my invitation to you then,” with that, he pointed the gun and shoot at her. The detective managed to wound the man on his chest. Huda crumbled down in Iqram’s arms.

“It hurts,” she struggled to breathe and the blood seeped out from the bullet hole in her shoulder. Iqram calmly applied pressure to the wound as the rest of them checked on the old man and called for the paramedics.

“Shhh…try not to talk. It will hurt less.”

“You know…if…if I was not in pain right now, I would be falling for you,” she had tears in her eyes and the burning sensation in her right shoulder was not getting any better.

“You did, remember? Twice. I’m going to leave you to the paramedics.”

“No! Don’t leave me. I want my last memory on earth to be you,” she pleaded.

“Alright, I’ll stay. But I assured you that you won’t die from a gunshot wound. The bullet went through. So, you might loose your right arm.”

“Noooooo! Just let me die then,”

“Calm down, I promise you’ll be okay,” he caressed her tear stained cheeks and wiped away the remaining tears.

“Sorry mister, we have to get her to the hospital now,” said one of the paramedics.

“Okay, I’m coming. I owe her a mango pudding.”

The ambulance drove away from the house leaving only the police, Robbie and his ex-wife behind.

“I proposed we find the will before any of these cops get their hands on it,” suggested Robbie.

“Enough Robbie. I’m dirty and tired. Why don’t we call it a day and go home?”

“But honey…”

“I’ll bake you my famous moist chocolate cake.”

“That beats being caught and murdered anytime. A perfect way to end the day is with a yummy, scrumptious, and mouth watering chocolate cake.”

The End.