Soup

“In a bit of news I’m trepidatious to even talk about, today marks the seventh anniversary of the discovery of the first victim of the killer that has been dubbed The Soupmaker. The body of Marie Yelena Santos was dismembered and was -pardon the term- found cooking in a plastic shipping barrel after acid was poured over her remains.”

“Martin, weren’t ligature marks found on the parts that hadn’t been consumed by the acid?”

“Yes. Records report that she had some sort of ritualistic bindings on her when she was killed.”

Simon turned off the radio. Sometimes the talk on talk radio was too much. He rode the rest of the trip to the supermarket in relative silence. He had no need of reminders.

~*~

Simon pushed the shopping cart through the aisles looking for the twine. It was normally on aisle eleven where the other cooking utensils and over-priced pots were shelved. Now that the recent renovations were complete the store had a completely new layout. An employee walked onto the aisle as he was about to walk to another aisle.

“Excuse me, where can I find the twine?”

The young man looked at him with a bored expression but said nothing.

“Twine. Where can I find it?” Simon asked again.

“Umm…I think they moved it to aisle three.”

Simon nodded then walked across the store. Once in the aisle with all the pans, knives and measuring cups he couldn’t prevent a smile from breaking out. He always felt comfortable with the tools of the kitchen. Although he never attended culinary school, Simon fancied himself a professional. His adolescence spent under the tutelage of his mother had shaped his skills, but as an adult he honed them. Nigella Lawson, Bobby Flay and their ilk were his peers in the kitchen. His days spent behind a desk didn’t dampen that a bit.

Simon checked the shelves and was disappointed there was no twine. On the verge of being totally vexed, he walked to the end of the aisle in search of a store employee. He called out to the first person he saw in the telltale company blue. His body bristled at the sight of the face of the young man that was no help to him earlier.

“Did you find your string?” the young man asked, oblivious to Simon’s annoyance.

“No. Would you please check in the back for some?”

The store employee fixed Simon with another long bored expression before he stepped to a nearby pillar. “Customer needs assistance on aisle three,” the blue-shirted employee said over the PA system. He replaced the handset on the handset phone then looked at Simon once more before he returned to what he had been doing.

Simon did his best to remain calm as he walked back to his shopping cart to wait for assistance.

A muscle in his jaw twitched slightly.