Present day
Madison lived in a two-room apartment which had once belonged to her parents before they moved elsewhere and left her to her own devices. Kash had set foot inside the apartment only once before when the whole family still resided together, but times had changed since then, and she saw that Madison didn’t exactly have her mother’s eye for cleanliness. Clutter lay ankle-deep on every available surface. Piles of junk spilled out onto the floor: clothes and shoes, boxes and papers, undrunk mugs of coffee, half-eaten dinners—all shoved wherever they could fit. The sink overflowed with dishes and takeout containers, and the window above it was pasted over with ancient newspaper clippings that let in a thin filter of light but kept out prying eyes, perhaps as a half-baked attempt to hide the hoarding within.
The place smelled dank and musty, and Kash’s nose wrinkled as she cleared a path to the couch. Detective X followed just behind, an unconscious Madison sagging in his arms. He laid her out across the couch cushions as gently as he could, standing back to survey her gentle breathing. She looked very youthful and peaceful in sleep, with her chubby cheeks and brown hair curling around her ears. They both knew that there was nothing more to do except wait for her to wake. Detective X cleared his throat and glanced around for a place to sit, but quickly found that his prospects were grim. The armchair nearest to him, large and comfortable in a previous life, was frosted with mold and occupied by a number of newspapers. The other chairs fared even less well.
Kash felt a sudden, unpleasant flush creeping up her neck; whether she wanted to or not, she felt ashamed—ashamed that Detective X could see all the ugliness of The Other City laid out before him in such simplistic terms. What must it look like to him, as an outsider? What must he think of her and the people she knew? What kind of unflattering sentiments would he take home with him when he went back to the Big City?
“Does she really live like this?” Detective X asked, as if reading Kash’s mind.
“Looks like it,” she said. “I never come here.”
She said that last part too quickly, and immediately felt guilty for trying to distance herself.
“I don’t blame you,” Detective X said.
As if on cue, a mouse scampered brazenly across his toes, and he twitched instinctively. The mouse, unconcerned, disappeared up the voluminous sleeve of a crumpled dress lying atop a nearby pile of mess. Kash watched as its tiny, lumpish form traveled beneath the fabric, making a beeline for the price tag.
From the couch, Madison groaned.
“What happened?” she asked, as Kash knelt gingerly by her side.
“You fainted,” Kash said.
“What? Why?”
She struggled up onto her elbows, irritably dismissing Kash’s attempts to keep her still. The moment she saw Detective X, however, comprehension dawned, and her lower lip began to tremble.
“Oh no,” Kash said.
She looked on helplessly as Madison began to cry, and was grateful when Detective X took it upon himself to step in. Spreading out some of the newspapers atop the nearby armchair, he drew it up to the couch, sat gingerly, and said, soothingly,
“I understand that this must be very hard for you, and I’m very sorry for it, but I need you to answer a few questions for me the best that you can. Can you do that?”
Madison, sniffling and trembling, nodded.
“Thank you,” Detective X said, in the same, soothing tone. “But first, I have to confirm what Kashmira has already told you. We found Jackson, deceased, last night, near to his place of residence. We’re still trying to understand what happened to him, which is why I’d like to speak to you, since you knew him personally.”
As he spoke Jackson’s name, Madison grew very quiet, though her shoulders still shuddered now and then with repressed emotion.
“Now, if you’re ready, can you tell me when you were last in contact with the deceased?” asked Detective X.
Kash perched on the edge of a mostly-buried coffee table as Madison took a deep, steadying breath. She sat for a moment in silence, considering the question, ankles crossed and hands clasped demurely in her lap. Kash inexplicably felt that there was something off about the whole situation; Madison was showing uncharacteristic self-control, especially when it came to the news of Jackson’s death. The fainting fit seemed long-forgotten, and in its place were swiftly drying tears and a small, secretive smirk that played about her mouth. But Kash silently admonished herself for being unfair; perhaps Madison had matured in the years since Jackson’s absence; perhaps she was merely holding herself together for the sake of the investigation, because she cared so much for him.
“Yesterday,” Madison said.
Kash exclaimed wordlessly aloud in surprise.
“Yesterday?” Detective X asked sharply. “Did you see him?”
“No,” Madison said, shaking her head. “He sent me a message.”
“What kind of message?” he asked.
“A note,” Madison said.
“Can you show me?”
She nodded and reached a hand beneath the neck of her sweatshirt, drawing out a folded slip of paper. Detective X took it from her hands and read it quickly. When he was done, he passed the note to Kash. She took it reluctantly; the paper was still warm from being pressed over Madison’s heart.
The note read:
“Madison, I’m home. I don’t like how we left things. Let me see you. Jacks.”
Beneath it was his address—the one at which he was found.
“Did he deliver it himself?” asked Detective X.
“I don’t know. I went out to meet…a friend, and when I got back, it was slid under the door,” Madison said.
“And you didn’t see him? Not once?”
“No.” She shook her head. “But even if he had come, I wouldn’t have let him in. I would’ve just let him stand out there and knock and holler all he wanted. I wouldn’t have said a word to him—not a single word! Not after what he did.” Her fingernails dug into the couch.
“And what did he do?” Detective X’s voice was very soft and sympathetic now.
“Anything he wanted,” she said bitterly.
“One last question,” Detective X said, sensing that the conversation was coming to an end. “When you opened the door to us, you asked if something had happened. How did you know?”
Madison suddenly looked cagy.
“Women’s intuition,” Madison said finally, with a hint of mischievousness.
Detective X regarded her steadily for a long moment. She gave him the most angelic of smiles, which transformed her face into a rosy apple of innocence.
“Thank you for your time,” he said at last, standing.
“Let me know if you need anything, Madison,” Kash said, standing with him. “You can always come over for dinner. Nana would love to cook for you.”
Madison nodded vaguely but promised nothing.
“I’m sorry you had to see me like this, Detective,” Madison said, brushing a loose curl back from her face.
She gave him a significant look. Kash was incredulous; hadn’t she been weeping over Jackson mere minutes ago?
Detective X, impassive as ever, said,
“Thank you, again. You’ve been very helpful.”
“My pleasure,” Madison said, smiling coyly.
Detective X lifted his pantlegs before retracing his steps to the door through the mess. Kash cast her eye around the room one last time, wondering if a dinner with her and Nana in their spotless living quarters would inspire Madison to fix her untidiness. Probably not.
Hearing a squeak, Kash glanced down to find the mouse from earlier nibbling on the price tag of the discarded dress. Now that she wasn’t distracted, she saw that it was an ugly thing covered in lime-green sequins. For the first time, she realized how unusual an item it was, in all of its gaudy newness. Come to think of it, many of the items that she spotted lying around—other dresses, jewelry, pretty bags—were also conspicuously new-looking, undoubtedly expensive, and not of a kind typically sold in the Other City.
“Hey, Madison, where’d you get this dress from?” Kash asked.
“Is that any of your business?” Madison snapped, fixing her with a resentful glare.
“I was just wondering.”
“It’s very pretty,” Detective X said from the doorway, defusing Madison’s anger immediately.
“I’ll remember to wear it next time you stop by,” she said, beaming.
Kash and Detective X waited until they reached the end of the corridor to speak.
“She seemed very prickly about that dress,” Detective X said. “Why do you think that was?”
“No idea,” Kash said, shrugging. “Probably best not to know.”
“A Big City import, if I had to guess,” Detective X said thoughtfully. “Does she have any connections there?”
“I don’t know—unless you count Jackson. Maybe he sent her all that stuff? Like a peace offering?”
“Couldn’t say.”
He pushed open the handle-less door, and they climbed back down the ladder, pausing in the tiny rectangle of space at the bottom. Facing him, Kash was struck with a strong desire to share some of the thoughts that had plagued her since the day before. Fixing her eyes on one of his pristine shirt buttons, she said,
“I’ve been thinking about Jackson’s murder for a while now, and something doesn’t sit right with me about it.”
“And that is?” Detective X asked, raising his eyebrows.
“I think Jackson knew he was going to die,” Kash said, feeling a little silly now that she’d spoken the words aloud.
“Go on.”
“I think he made that order from the restaurant as a form of insurance. He wanted to make sure someone would find him after the fact.”
“It’s a compelling theory…”
“It makes so much sense why he’d go to the trouble of insisting on a delivery, instead of picking it up himself. Maybe Madison’s note was the same thing, in case the restaurant fell through!”
Emboldened, Kash raised her eyes to his, which were almond-shaped and very symmetrical.
“But how? How did he know he was going to die?” she mused.
A dark silence fell between them. Above their heads, a single, fluorescent bulb buzzed faintly.
“I have a prior commitment at Mrs. O’s,” Detective X said finally, interrupting her thoughts. “And I’m sure your Nana is wondering where you are by now. Do you mind showing me the way back?”
❦
That evening, Kash stood guard as hostess within the restaurant doorway, ready to show diners to their seats. She breathed deeply of the air, which was surprisingly cool after a long, humid day, and watched people amble past in the street. As the hours flitted by, the skinny rectangle of orange sunlight that struggled its way down between the buildings from the Rooftops traveled slowly across the pavement until it was nothing but a thread of light, and then gone. Without it, the darkness was complete, and the fluorescent signs of the surrounding establishments bloomed to life within the shadows.
The carnations on the spindly table were pink instead of red, which Kash was grateful for; ever since witnessing Jackson’s body bathed in scarlet light, too much of the color red at one time prompted a series of unpleasant images to pinwheel across her vision. By then, everyone knew what had happened, and while she experienced no direct questioning (thanks to the intervention of Mrs. O), she found that whispers and sideways glances followed her wherever she went.
Fortunately, the room divider hid her from view, which gave her a sense of peace, since no one could point her out and reiterate to their neighbors whatever version of the story they’d heard that suited them best.
Kash remained undisturbed for quite a while until TJ found her, his face flushed with heat from the kitchen, and wearing his customary apron. She knew at once from his impish smile that he was here to collect details about the murder. Nevertheless, she didn’t immediately tell him to shove off; his was the first friendly face she’d seen all night.
“Hey there,” he said, oversized mouth twitching with the excitement of unasked questions.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Kash said.
“I was just going to offer my condolences!” TJ’s eyes were wide with innocence.
“Sure…”
There was a pause, in which Kash returned her gaze to the street, scanning for approaching customers.
“Just one little question? Please?” TJ begged.
“Fine,” Kash said, with a sigh. “Just one.”
“Thank you.” TJ clasped his hands together, as if in prayer, before lowering his voice conspiratorially. “How did it happen? A fall? A blow to the head? Was he missing any limbs?”
“Someone cut his throat.” The words tasted metallic in her mouth.
“Garroted,” TJ said wonderingly. “Very classic.”
“You’re sick, TJ,” she said.
“Who, me?” He grinned.
“Yes, you.”
“Maybe, but Detective X thinks that—”
“Enough chit-chat you two,” Mrs. O said, appearing around the edge of the screen and scaring both of them into immediate silence. “TJ, I need you back in the kitchen. Kash, I need you seating customers. We’re already behind as it is.”
Kash refrained from mentioning that, at present, there wasn’t a potential diner in sight.
“Yes, ma’am,” TJ said, standing very upright under Mrs. O’s watchful eye.
“Hmm,” she said, before retreating back into the restaurant, summoned by the telephone ringing in her office.
Kash and TJ breathed twin sighs of relief.
“What were you saying about Detective X?” Kash asked quietly, trying not to show her surprise that TJ should know him.
“I can’t tell you everything, because he said not to, but Detective X wants me to help him with his investigation. He offered me a job—in the Big City!” TJ whispered excitedly.
“What?” Kash exclaimed, a little too loudly.
“Shh!” TJ said, looking around wildly in case Mrs. O happened to reappear. “I go with him in a few days. Can you believe it?”
“No, I can’t,” Kash said, frowning. “What kind of job?”
TJ face grew coy, and his eyes narrowed to mocking slits.
“I can’t tell you that,” he said. “It’s a secret.”
“Oh, come on,” Kash said exasperatedly.
“Sorry, Kash, but I gotta go. Later!”
With that he vanished, leaving Kash voraciously curious. She thought back to earlier, when Detective X had mentioned having a ‘prior commitment.’ Had TJ been that prior commitment? And for what possible reason would Detective X want to offer him a job? Kash deeply regretted not stopping by the restaurant with him after the episode with Madison; maybe if she had, she would know better what was going on. She gazed down the street, where residents of the Other City were reveling in the coolness of the evening; she heard their music and their laughter as if from far away. What was it Madison had said? “Is that any of your business?”