Cambridge Market Street, Moncake Shop
August 17th,
Approaching the end of summer...
I didn't expect it to be such a long day since that incident at Joy Beach Great Yarmouth amusement park.
I didn't expect to return to my small shop – three sets of tables and chairs facing each other, coin drink machines, display doors, a cake display with a small bell on top that makes a sound similar to when the front door opens, and the cashier's table.
I also miss the small kitchen, which, after entering through the small door connecting the cashier and customer area, has a rectangular doorless space. Going straight leads to the kitchen and toilet, while turning right leads to the second floor.
I miss the scent of flour and dough.
I miss my ovens, refrigerators, fryers, and most importantly, all the ingredients I usually use to make cakes. And I will never forget my customers.
For example, Madame Odnery, the owner of the drugstore and herbal tea shop on Sussex Street. She's like my aunt. I never don't buy chamomile tea from her, from Odnerant Pharmacies. Usually, Madame Odnery stops by every one or two weeks. She's just a woman in her 60s trying to enjoy life. Because she often claims to have a toothache, I make a special recipe just for her – a not too sweet matcha chiffon cake.
Even when I was handling a case before, Madame Odnery called me. While her words were about asking how I was, the real intention was to order a cake. Making sure my shop was open before coming on foot in vain.
She isn't too picky. For her, at this age, being able to enjoy cake is a blessing. Although it's a bit troublesome to set aside a special recipe, I still need Madame Odnery. There is no herbal tea seller as genuine as her, I guarantee it.
Or Monsieur Chad, a police officer in the Cambridge area. A tall man, 1.84 meters, dashing, wearing a brown coat and a bowler hat. He used to be my colleague in a criminal suppression team. Now he's been reassigned to become a criminal detective. He's strict and quite humorous – um... comes at inconvenient times and is always a nuisance. Sometimes he has dirty jokes that don't reflect the proper etiquette of a police officer at all.
Or from the Antoinette family. Although Feline's sister, Lilia Antoinette, or the current head of the Antoinette family, Lorraine Antoinette, rarely orders, sometimes they order quite a few cakes for a meeting. Even Egremont, who also helped me in a previous case and is now recruited by the Antoinette family along with one other person.
"It feels good to be able to order cakes here again," Mr. Periwinkle said, taking out money.
"I'm glad to serve you, Mr. Periwinkle." I handed him an extra bitter dark chocolate cake for the separated elderly couple in the tear of the past.
"Good luck, young man."
"Thank you, Madame Avery!"
Yes, Madame Avery, who used to order black tea often and had a left-handed handshake. I'm glad Mr. Periwinkle is still accompanying her.
Since the beginning of summer, I've had a new regular visitor. She's a quiet woman, with simple ponytailed hair, wavy and blonde, with a unique charm. Her demeanor is calm and straightforward, creating her own distance. She always carries a long rectangular bag the size of a fishing tackle, as Feline often says. Madame Tresse de Hecate, who once helped me that day. Her punch was enough to drive away a crowd of people resembling gangsters in the Cambridge area trying to enter my shop. Unfortunately, she already has a child, which limits the space between us. And now, she always sits near the entrance, in front of the coin drink machine. She always orders coffee, any cake as long as it's different every day, and never complains if suddenly the stock runs out. She always reads a book when seated and leaves after two hours since she arrived.
This peace is indeed unnoticed until the late afternoon. About ten young people came here after Mme. Hecate left. It got more crowded as the evening approached. Therefore, I couldn't close my shop temporarily. Perhaps it's the side effect after I closed it for three days?
By the way, it's now around 05:30 PM, and there are still two customers sitting at one of the tables. Feline is watching the cashier, while I wash the dishes and utensils.
The peace is still there. Until after I finish in ten minutes, I head to the cashier.
"Mr. Cake, I'm actually curious why Miss Voyles prevented Miss Howell from taking that lemon soda?" Feline asked while counting the money in the cash drawer.
Ah, here it is. When Feline said, 'I'm curious,' that's when the peace around vanished. Feline has been silent and tight-lipped for almost a month now, but finally, it leaks. It's a bit strange, but I'm not the type to meddle in other people's problems.
"Feline, can we drop that for a while?"
"Oh, really? Is three weeks not enough?"
Tch! So, she actually planned this. What can I do when it's like this?
"I began to understand what Miss Howell said back then."
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Wait, what?
"What do you mean, Feline?"
This slow loris is indeed annoying. Why didn't she say that after returning from the investigation in Great Yarmouth, huh? Well, but I guess she can't be blamed either. I myself wonder why I didn't ask about it while realizing it during Feline's quiet interrogation.
Feline said that at that time, when Feline was with Mlle. Howell on the Lightning 360 ride.
"It's like we were sitting at the corner of a rotating clock, as the Ferris Wheel turns, as the moment gets further away," Feline said, as if imitating what Miss Howell said at that time.
"Why could she speak like that, Feline? Since then, you could have hit the brakes at any time?"
What I mean is that Feline likes to interfere and ask sensitive questions, why shouldn't she continue to ask at that time?
"Hey, that's not true!" Feline said disappointedly, her tone slightly higher as she turned to me. "Miss Howell said it suddenly, you know!"
This slow loris doesn't make sense. How can someone say something like that when there's no trigger?
It turns out that when Feline recalled was when Feline told Mlle. Howell that she had three good friends who could go on vacation. Feline admitted not knowing what to do because Mlle. Howell paused a bit before saying that before the Lightning 360 ride rotated for five seconds.
She has given me the fourth important clue. Because it's my turn to give her an answer.
"Mlle. Voyles only knows that M. Gill bought the lemon soda. She suspects that M. Gill might have a motive to poison someone. While, in reality, M. Gill certainly knows Mlle. Howell's plan well."
"What might be the reason they're doing all this? Not just Miss Howell, Miss Voyles, Mr. Marsh, and Mr. Gill—"
In the middle of Feline expressing her frustration, the front doorbell rang.
"G’night Cake~ Are there two cakes?"
Mlle. Flemming, in a white suit but with a tougher demeanor than usual, walked unsteadily because she forced herself to drink beer even though she wasn't very good at handling alcohol.
As usual, after work, Mlle. Flemming still had a very attractive appearance. Of course, if I weren't a man like I am now, maybe we would have quite a few children.
But because I am a man who likes peace, always learns from mistakes, thinks calmly, and doesn't want to become homeless, I behave more than humanely to Mlle. Flemming.
The front door opened for the second time. Mlle. Flemming sat at the nearest table with her friend.
Yes, that friend we're very familiar with. Her hair is black with blue-green ombre, slightly wavy but not tied up now, while the front bangs frame her face.
Who else but the woman who was exposed to Ethylene Glycol? Mlle.Eira Voyles.
"Miss Voyles!" Feline suddenly came out of the small connecting door and shook hands with Miss Voyles.
"Long time no see, Feline!" they hugged warmly while smiling. "Nice to meet you again, sir!"
"Plaisir pour moi aussi! (Pleasure for me too!)"
"Wait, do you two know each other?" Mlle. Flemming's forehead began to furrow. Even with Feline present, this misunderstanding could be a disaster for me. Remember, Mlle. Flemming's jealousy is fiercer than any woman in the world.
Mlle. Voyles immediately recounted the details of the case and how we could meet. Mlle. Flemming wasn't too surprised and suspicious since I called her that time to ask about drugs like Fomepizole, Glucagon, and Hypoglycemia.
Well, fortunately, this misunderstanding was quickly resolved. But I'm glad when Mlle. Voyles is in good condition. She said that in two weeks, her liver could recover. Not a hundred percent, but at least it reached the nineties. No other serious damage was found that would make her abdominal cavity defective, which was grateful for her.
Then time passed, as fast as the three women gossiping in a discussion. Well, as a man, I have to give in. Because tonight, including Feline joining Mlle. Flemming and Miss Voyles, I became their servant.
Because the remaining cake is only Vanilla Brown Sugar Cake, what can I do? I didn't even prepare some drinks because the supplies ran out today. Instead, I brought what was in the vending machine.
Sometimes I join their conversation while warming up the cake.
Unexpectedly, Mlle. Voyles has left Ghostic Pest Control in Norfolk. Mlle. Voyles saw some job vacancies in Cambridge, and she was interested in going there. It turns out that she met Mlle. Flemming. They were university friends. They met at the library.
What I heard about her reason for moving from Norfolk is that Mlle. Voyles just wanted a change of scenery after the case.
And then, the clock showed 9 PM. While the last two female customers sitting near the entrance, in front of the coin drink machine, had paid and left an hour ago.
Mlle. Flemming said that for the time being, Mlle. Voyles would stay with her at Grafham's house. That's why I heard a taxi afterward.
Just before the two glamorous women left, Mlle. Voyles gave me an envelope.
"If you have time, please come, sir."
I just smiled, and they closed the door from the outside. Of course, after the characteristic doorbell sound.
A white envelope made of slightly elastic material with a ferris wheel-shaped print. The envelope is quite artsy and looks important, but perhaps its contents are much more important.
And it turns out… surprising.
"Wow! Miss Voyles' wedding? We should come!?"
This slow loris is too excited, circling around me and the invitation envelope. But I doubt if the answer is correct.
After I opened the invitation, I found one name we were familiar with. However... we're not as enthusiastic.
On the contrary, a feeling of sadness enveloped me.
"Marsh Billy & ...." Feline's unfinished words, suddenly very disappointed, very heavy.
The opposite of what Feline thought. And perhaps that's why Mlle. Flemming met her friend.
If it's like this, maybe I know why the blue-green ombre black-haired woman wants to distance herself from Norfolk and those memories forever.
"Fuuah!" Feline yawned tiredly. Understandably, today we worked overtime. "I don't want to go to the amusement park again, at least not around here. Good night, Mr. Cake!"
She left me and immediately went upstairs to clean herself from sweat and foolishness.
After all, who will take her there again? I gave up since the first time. Moreover, now.
Can I say goodbye already?
Goodbye, I guess, to those four clovers,
Goodbye to that invitation, where one name that should be listed is not listed on M. Billy Marsh's wedding invitation.
I already suspected it since the first meeting.
It was the Ferris Wheel that inflicted wounds on its owner through beautiful metaphors.
It was the Ferris Wheel that might create mismatched or uncertain couples.
It was the Ferris Wheel that we shouldn't rely too much on.
Goodbye to the Ferris Wheel, and let the wheel turn to say goodbye in return.
Ferris Farewheel.
*** END ***
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