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Wagging its tail cheerfully , stood in front of me a huge ,old Golden Retriever with a brown object held steadily between its teeth. I lowered the greyhound, walking towards it looking extremely flabbergasted. It took me a moment to realise that the 'object' was my wallet. Come to think of it , I was overwhelmed with a weird sensation as soon as I left the café across the river, my guts definitely warned me of something missing .
Good heavens I found it - or to say the owner was genuine enough to give it back to me ,I should have been more cautious after all. I knelt down grinning at the dog "Good job bud'", I caressed its velvety sunshine of a head , it barked in response - satisfied and proud. Instinctively I checked the contents of my wallet my ID card , a few dollars and candy wrappers, all checked.
Relief washed over my face as I stood up to check if someone followed after it . I could hear a feeble sound of footsteps approaching and soon after the sound became more distinct, just seconds away from the gap in the wall.
A figure jumped in and creepily landed straight on his feet, panting and drenched in sweat, strange enough for the frozen winds of November. I almost gasped. A boy , most probably a high schooler judging by the newly sprouted acne all over his dainty cheeks and a black hoodie engraved artistically with the words "Life f*cking sucks". He had lanky arms and was clad in a hoodie that covered his frenzied golden hair, the guy who served me coffee.
His mother ran a tiny coffee shop along the streets and he happened to help her on weekends with her business. He stared at me for a moment before averting his gaze and gazing around the basement, almost petrified. He seemed to be nervous, whether it was due to my presence or the morbid air of the basement I couldn't guess. Finally he spoke. "Your wallet", he said glancing anxiously.
I stood awaited assuming he would say more. I was wrong. He simply stood in front of me staring at his mud-stricken boots, shifting awkwardly from one foot to the other. I was not sure what to say either, I had a lot to say but a "Thank you" was all I could come up with. I expected him to leave without any further intervention. But he stood still, his pupils dancing in every direction before coming at a halt directly into my eyes.
A curious teen and me. To make matters worse, anawkward, curious teen and me in a stinky basement of a crime scene staring awkwardly at each other with a dog licking my feet, no words were spoken. Who was going to tell him, no, detectives were not a bunch of Sherlock Holmes. We were a bunch of morons who found blood and destruction captivating. He probably wanted to see how it worked. I finally broke eye contact and resumed my business.
"Did you find any clue?", he asked. "No", I said. How could I possibly ask him to leave without sounding rude?
He lingered about and finally spoke his mind "Umm... I wanted to see how detectives worked you know, I have watched tons of thriller and mystery movies throughout my life. So I hope I'm not hindering your job at the moment. I will just stay behind and umm maybe ahh... help-
