Spyglass Mysteries: #2 Shadows Under The Cityscape

Report 8: Minimal

Sunday, November 5th

3:00pm. Afternoon

The small bakery drew closer in sight as the cab drove into view of the front window. Jeremy paid for the ride and we walked up to the front of the bakery. The lights were on and business wasn't looking kind for this exact time of hour. I reached out for the door knob and left both Logan and Jeremy into the shop. The strong whiff of fresh bread and sugary pastries filled the doorway. A small, round man, wearing the typical chef hat, stood behind the front window counter, shelving the daily desserts for display. Behind him were rakes and shelves of both cooking supplies and treats galore. Formed around brick colored motif of the flooring and non-colored walls. Being a local shop, this place fit in its environment or rural business perfectly. Logan walked first to the counter and peered over the tasty confections. The chief looked up and put a smile over his worn and red face.

"How can I help you?" asked the Chef.

"We're here about the stolen bake goods you reported to the police," I stated.

"Oh, yes! It was just yesterday. A fully stocked van full of my perfected arts. It was stolen, I know it!"

"Can we see where this happened?" asked Jeremy.

"Of course, it was in the back where we get our shipments in. Follow me," said the Chef.

The Chef opened a path behind the counter and led us into the kitchen. Nothing much to see from the layout. Everything metallic colored between the stove and fryer.

"Can you tell us anything else from what happened?" I asked.

"I wasn't there when it happened. I was opening the bakery. You can ask Josef if he's here," said the Chef.

"Whose Josef?" I asked.

"Josef, is the man I hired to help unload the delivery van."

"Doesn't sound like he's living up to the title," said Logan.

The Chef cracked open the back door and peeked through it, only to fully open it after yelling.

"Ah ha! There you are!" said the Chef, "Josef!"

"What is it this time?" spoke Josef, smoking on a electric cigarette and speaking in a deep Russian like accent.

"Tell these men what happened about the stolen works of art that I have slaved over, day and night and-"

"I am still on break."

"When you get off break. There are some boxes left over to store in the back," said the Chef, turning his gaze at me, "Please if you can find them. I will be most grateful."

"What, the bakery goods? But, what about the van?" I asked, confused.

"I don't care about the van. She can be replaced. Those fiends that took my wares. My arts. Promise me you'll get to them before they spoil!"

"Uh... sure?!" I answered, even more confused.

"And Josef... five more minutes," said the Chef, pointing at the clock hanging in the kitchen.

Josef continued to smoke, blowing an odd light neon blue colored smoke into the air as the Chef threw his hands in the air and walked back inside. The door closed behind the Chef. I wafted off the scent with my hand. Whatever it was, it probably wasn't too healthy for you.

"Josef, can you-" I asked, coughing still.

"Can we hurry with this, uh... questioning. I am on break," said Josef, still smoking.