Chereads / The Gingerbread Man / Chapter 2 - Chapter I

Chapter 2 - Chapter I

[March 5, 2033]

[Helengard Atkinson]

I took a seat as instructed by my potential employer. I took the moment to inspect his office space. He had a desk with files and a Newton's Cradle toy. I was tempted to put a bit of energy into the system but I have to be professional.

There are two chairs, one of which I was seated in. The fan above me dangled precariously but I had faith it wouldn't fall. Behind me to the left side of the room was a bookcase filled with novels, memoirs, encyclopedias and all sorts of things. Beside was a water dispenser. I should've taken some. I'm parched.

"So, Ms Atkinson was it?" I was taken from my optical tour by the sound of Mr Everest's voice. "Oh um. Yeah. Yes. Helengard Atkinson." I replied. He raised an eyebrow. "Helengard? Sounds unique." "Apparently my aunt named me. Helengard was my grandmother's middle name." I noted. "Uhuh. What as her first name, your grandmother." "Elizabeth, why?" "Nothing. May I see you're educational papers?" "Of course sir."

I handed 3 of my 5 documents to him and hoped he'd be impressed. "How old are you?" He asked suspiciously. "20."

"How? FS courses are 4 years at UNLO. And apparently, you had time to do a minor Detective course as well." He stated. The University Of Nelronian Law and Order or UNLO is a school to train future Lawyers, Politicians, Law Enforcement and is a stepping stone for police officers.

The Investigators Course is 4 years long and has three options. The Detective and Consultant course. The Forensic sciences. And lastly, stage one Police training aka law familiarization.

"I speed ran the last year and skipped the third because of my 4.89 and 4.7 average in year one and two respectively, so I'm fresh from the institution. I also did an online Consultant's course and earned my certification. You can check." I prompted. "No. This all looks legit." He answered. I didn't realize I was holding my breath because I released a grand sigh of relief.

"One question though." He said earning my full attention. "Why do you want to be a Forensics Consultant? Moreover, why immediately join a rogue detective rather than Danto PD? It's all rather strange to me."

My jaw stiffened and I closed my eyes. "C'mon Hel. Just tell him." My inner thoughts compelled. I took a deep breath and answered, "My mother was wrongly convicted for the murder of my father. My father was stabbed one night in our house. I was away with my Aunt. My mother was found, holding pressure to the knife, by our neighbours. The police were called. She was taken to prison... She died there. Without ever getting justice. I don't trust the police and I will never let them use my skills only to hurt more people." My lip began quivering but I steeled my nerves.

I looked into his royal blue eyes to find I sliver of pity or maybe understanding. Whatever it is he was relating to some extent. "W-w-what a-about you?" I stuttered nervously. "Excuse me?" "What's your story?"

"Ok. You may as well know. It's not something I tell a lot of people." He began. I tried my best to look a little calm but I was actually super interested in his story.

"So. There's this thing called money. It's a special item that magically puts food on my table, electricity in my apartment and shoes on my feet. Are you following? So, when I turned 18, my parents stopped giving me this special item. So I used my savings to go to UNLO and passed with flying colours. I word at DPD then left and became a PI. The End."

This man was a wisecrack. At least he's not a jerk. "Oh um. Uhuh. Yeah, that's a good backstory. Very... engaging." I said trying my best to be a suck-up. He saw right through me, "You're a funny one, Ms Atkinson."

"Anyway. If you were to be hired you, must understand what I want from you." He said. I nodded. "You'll be my Forensics Consultant and Secretary. I expect you to be here every morning at 8:00 am except for Friday and Saturday. While on duty as a consultant you are to be devoted to your duty without any major distractions. Also, if you do fail I will not blame it on you because I know that not all mysteries can be solved. Next, while not acting in the range of Consultant, you'll be my secretary. You'll write forms, documents, tax stuff and the paperwork I don't want to do. I also run a small blog where I talk about my work. You would be the new editor. Oh and also, get me coffee. Coffee is what keeps the earth revolving and you'll soon understand that. I'll be paying you a passive amount of 10 Neloons an hour. During a case, you'll not only receive the passive income but also a 33% cut of the pay. Now then. Do we have a deal, Helen?"

"Yessir. And it's Helengard." "And I said, Helen. Deal with it. And do you mind getting me a coffee? Get me a number 4 from the Brewlakes menu." He commanded. I take it back. He's a jerk. Well, he's my boss so that's to be expected. He handed me $100 Nellys or as the older folks would call it $100 Neloons. Like doubloons but with a Nel. It was a standard size bill with the usual security features and the depiction of General Chadwick von Brodux, the leader of our countries first strike at the British. He had a majestic aesthetic while clad in his metal armour. His flowing hair must've been softer than soft. And he didn't look too bad either.

I took the cash and quickly scampered to the door. He then shouted, "Keep the change!" With that, I left while doing a celebration dance in my head. Who wouldn't if you get to keep like 60 Nellys.

[Walker Everest]

Once I was sure the little miss was gone, I unsheathed my phone and dialled an old friend. "Hey, Thalamon! I need a favour." I greeted. "Sure, what can I do for ya?" He asked in a heavy Welsh accent. He's from Chesterfield or as some call it 'New Wales'. A lot of Welsh folks boarded ships to get to a better land. A land of opportunities and rights.

Most of them made it to America instead. Poor fellas.

"I need you to get a file on a Helengard M. Atkinson." I requested. He told me to wait, and that's what I did. "Found it. She's 20 years old with no major criminal history. Only some Juvinal Delinquency, caught with alcohol when she was almost 15. Bought liquor with a fake ID for a while. The usual kid's stuff. She's asthmatic and has a long history of med records relating to it. She was a flunk in school until she lost her father at 14. Then her mother at 15. Her Grandmother at 16. Her aunt, aged 45 is the only family she has left. Oof, rough past. Anyway, she's a learned girl--" "Yes yes I know the education part. Just needed the first part. Thanks, man." I told him with appreciation. "You can thank me over drinks. Let's at Friday, 7:00ish next week." "Deal."

I hung up the call. Thalamon Hile was always reliable. He's my best friend and former co-worker. He's a Forensic Analyst with access to the PD database. You may wonder what's the difference between a Forensic Analyst and a Consultant. Analyst never leaves the lab. Consultants are in the lab and the field usually partnered with a detective or officer.

I decided to not confront her about it. I have a suspicion it has something to do with her family life and I don't have any interest in getting involved; yet anyway. I opened my laptop to see if I had any job request on Work4me.net. I got a ping.

It read: 'My name is Grettle Namil. My husband Ulran, has gone missing. I can't afford the police but I can afford your services. Can I come in at 3 pm today?' I shrugged. It would be a great first case for my new assistant. My watch said it was 2 in the afternoon. I replied: 'NO problem. Come by at 3 and we'll discuss this in greater detail.' And send.

I then resorted to scrolling through different consumer goods and the like on WebJungle.com. Because every successful economy is built upon the backs of those who have an empty void within them; the commercial masses feed of the hopeless desire for pleasure and supply it with the vague promise of happiness and fulfilment and as unfulfilled as ever, we keep coming for more of the same nonsensical goods and services that make our society tick. And I'm a sucker for it.

As I finished my thought, Helen entered with the coffee. "One #4 coffee." She announced. She removed it from the cardboard carton and gently rested it on the desk. "Much appreciated. Now follow me."

I rose from my seat and walked out the door with Ms Atkinson on my tail. I took a small left to the next door. Door 654. "Hand me your ID Card," I commanded.

She quizzically stared at me. "As in my National Identification Card that signifies my citizenship? The important one?" She asked, obviously she was kind of slow with these kinds of things. I replied, "No, the one you used to buy liquor 7 years ago; Of course I want that ID. The important one!" I confirmed raising my voice. Her face showed some fear or embarrassment. Maybe both. Either way, I almost felt guilty. Almost.

[Helengard Atkinson]

This man is insufferable. But he looks cute when angry so I'll give him a pass, just this once. He almost made me cry, to be honest, I felt my cheeks burn slightly. I guess I'm not as tough as I thought. And how did he know about my past drinking experience? Maybe he was being general and stereotyping me, not that I don't mind in this scenario. I opened my wallet and fished out my ID. I handed it to him.

On the manual keypad, he pressed 0000 to enable command register mode. He pressed 1 to set a new user. Then pressed 2 to set it for a basic user with unlimited access. He must've had Admin User for his ID so I can't lock him out. He would be a smart man if that was his prior action.

He handed it back to me. I felt a bit giddy. Finally a job to better myself. "Would you do the honours, Ms Atkinson?" He asked with a dramatic bow. I bounced to the keypad and held up my ID. The back was facing the screen of the keypad. It was scanning an embedded chip within the ID to verify me. The door swooshed open with a whistling noise. "Welcome, Ms Helengard Atkinson." It spoke.

I waltzed inside to see some of the finest equipment. "Oh my god. A T-34 Triscope Remo-Tech Microscope!" I ran over to the device and happily fawned over the technological complexity. I diverted my gaze to another object. "No. Frickin. Way! A GM-1I Centrifuge Machine?" And another. "Wow. Just wow. A Wetlen H56 Chemical Analyzer and an NF31 Chemical Synthesizer. They don't make these like they used to."

"Wait you like this stuff?" Mr Everest's voice queried. I basically ran up to him and nodded profusely with my hands to my chest and fists under my chin. "These are all old models. Cheapest things I could find." He argued. "Sir, these are a Forensics Scientists wet dream!" I cheered. "Just looking at all this old technology makes me all hot and stuff." For some reason, I felt compelled to hug him, so I did. I wrapped my dainty arms around his imposing frame. He cleared his throat and I realized the error of thine ways.

"Oh um. Sorry." I apologized trying to brush my... essence off of his outer cloak. An awkward silence then ensued. Why did I spill my beans like that? Dang. "Well, despite your obvious fetish, this is all yours. But for now, I have a client coming at 3. Get familiar with your new toys and come to my office at 2:55. Okay?" He requested. I saluted quirkily. "Sir, yes sir!"

He turned to exit. "And don't wet the floors with your technophilia, Helengard." He teased. I stayed quiet until he left. Why is my boss hot, mysterious and a jerk all in one!? Dang. "Now be a good little girl and settle yourself, missy. Can you do that?" He asked blankly. I nodded. "Next time I want to hear you. Just remember to get over to me at 2:55."

[Walker Everest]

I exited the room and the door closed behind me. I don't like being touched. I tolerate general gestures like handshakes, but any that may mean endearment is a no go. But I accepted hers out of the little respect I hold for her; well, people in general. The mutual kind.

I checked my watch. 2:45. Time to see what she can do.

[Words = 2240]

[Posted = 4/14/2021]