15

IAIN WEST FORENSIC SUITE, AN EXTENSION TO THE WESTMINSTER PUBLIC MORTUARY, LONDON. SEVEN MINUTES TO GO...

   "S o he stuffs Meow Muffins in the children's throats." I am thinking aloud. "What kind of clue is that?"

   "Honestly, as much I'm satisfied we found it, I have no clue about the clue ." The Pillar sounds honest. I think I have spotted a pattern which I can't explain. It's more of an intuition when he has no idea about what's going on. Particularly when it's about the Cheshire. I wonder how those two dealt with each back in Wonderland.

   "So, that's it?" I haven't gone through all of this to end up empty-handed.

   "I'm afraid so, Alice." The Pillar sighs. "The Cheshire's clue makes no sense. It only points at his involvement in the crimes."

   "Think harder, Pillar," I demand. "I'm supposed to do the hard stuff, like entering the morgue as a corpse. You're supposed to have explanations. You're the one with memories of the Cheshire and Wonderland. This muffin has to mean something."

   "Did you ever read about muffins in Lewis Carroll's books? I haven't for sure," the Pillar says. "The first killing in the stadium had one purpose only: to attract our attention to the case. Now, this muffin should lead somewhere, but it escapes me."

   "Then we have to think together."

   "Six minutes, Alice," the Pillar warns me. "If I were you, I'd zip myself back. We could think about it together when you're back."

   "I'm not leaving without a lead to catching the Cheshire," I insist. Sometimes, I feel I want to be the Real Alice. Sometimes I don't. This is one of the times that I want to be Alice so badly it scares me. I will bring the Cheshire to justice.

   "Then, you might never leave this morgue."

   "Let's just think again. The Cheshire chops their heads off and then stuffs them in watermelons. Doesn't that ring a bell?"

   "Don't be fooled," the Pillar says. "The watermelons mean nothing. It's just a scare factor to imply nonsensical chaos. The British police are supposed to look into the watermelons matter. The muffin is for us. The Cheshire is clever. Five minutes and counting."

   "Can't be five minutes yet."

   "Okay, I lied." He chews on the words. "Five and a half minutes. I want you out. There is no point in blowing your cover. The world isn't ready to know about the Wonderland Wars or who you are yet. Trust me."

   "The Cheshire planted the muffin so we'd get the message." I am surprised I am so adamant about solving this, but I like it. I am surprised by my lack of consideration of what happens to me.

   Because you have no life, Alice. I hate the nagging voice in my head. You're insane, probably a murderer, and no one cares about you, not even your mother and sisters. Why would it matter what happens to you? Convict or mad girl, it's all the same. That's why you're the perfect Alice for this insane job. A lonely Alice.

   But I do have someone I care for, I confess in silence. Remembering him curves a weak smile on my face. It's a smile, nonetheless.

   "Four minutes," the Pillar counts. "Do you have any suggestions to where you want me to bury you if you die in there?"

   "Anywhere but a cat cemetery." I take a few steps back and stare at the five kids. There must be more than a muffin for a clue. "Why those kids in particular?" I ask.

   "What do you mean?"

   "Last time, the Cheshire chose the girls for specific reasons: they were all descendants of women who had been photographed by Lewis Carroll. Why these kids this time?"

   The Pillar is silent. I hope he is thinking it over. "Okay. I will give it until one-minute in." He sighs. It's the first time I force him to succumb to my wishes. "Let's see. The names you read on the toe tags do not have anything in common. All we know for sure is the kids' ages, which isn't much of a lead we can follow. Boys and girls, so there is no gender issue here. I checked a few names while you were talking; all kids are either poor or middle class. None are from rich families. But then, most crimes are committed against the poorer people in the world—"

   "Could it be the Cheshire didn't stuff the muffins inside?" I interrupt, clicking my thumb and middle finger. "Could it be that the kids bought the muffins themselves first?"

   "I don't know of kids who like to bite on Ziplocked muffins. Doesn't sound so tasty."

   "You're not following, Pillar. The Cheshire later Ziplocked the muffins they bought." I'm not stating facts; I am thinking out loud. "What I am saying is the kids might have been chosen because they bought a Meow Muffin—or wanted one so badly."

   "Could be," the Pillar says. "So?"

   I try to figure it out, staring at the kids again. Why would he kill kids who buy these muffins?

   "Two minutes."

   "Wait!" I raise a numb finger in the air. "Forget about what I just said. I was wrong."

   "Admitting failure is a rare virtue."

   "But I'm right about something else," I say in a louder voice. "The kids!"

   "What about them?"

   "They are..." I squint to make sure. Could it be that the clue has been so easy to figure from the beginning? Damn you, Cheshire.

   "What?"

   I hurl myself toward the death bags and unzip the kids fully from top to bottom to see their whole bodies. Why was I so scared to look at their bodies before?

   "What is it, Alice?" The Pillar is both worried and excited.

   "The clue isn't in the heads!" I shriek.

   "How so?"

   "The same way the watermelons are designed to elude the police so we could find the muffin, the kids' heads are also a misleading trick to elude the police," I explain. "The real clue is in the bodies." All of the disconnected bodies are intact, with not one drop of blood visible. "The bodies are dressed neatly," I tell him what I see. "I don't suppose the kids wore those at the time of the crimes. The kids have been dressed up later. I mean, the kids' bodies have been dressed up later."

   "So, the heads were more of an 'x that marks the spot.' Makes sense, since the police located the bodies in their houses, a few hours after locating the heads." The Pillar is excited. "So, what is the clue? Almost one minute, Alice. You better get going."

   "The kids' pockets are filled with endless candy, bars, and tarts."

   The Pillar is silent.

   "Snicker Snackers chocolate bars, Tumtum cans, and Queen of Hearts Tarts," I say, reading the labels. "Are these known snacks sold in Britain now?" I don't remember any of those two years ago, but then again, I don't remember anything two years ago.

   "They are. Everything Wonderland is trending in the food industries since the Cheshire's killing last week. Less than one minute, Alice. Hurry. Tell me about the clue."

   "At first, I thought the suits were too large for the kids, and then now I find the pockets stuffed with candy."

   "How large is too large?"

   "Considerably large. XXL, I think," I say. "I mean, a fourteen-year-old boy or girl shouldn't be that—"

   "Are the kids overweight, Alice?" the Pillar asks bluntly.

   "Almost as much as the overweight kids I saw in Richmond Elementary School. What's up with that?"

   "Are all the deceased kids fat, Alice? Are they all overweight?"

   "Yes." I nod. It's unmistakable. It finally becomes evident when I roll all the kids on their backs and see huge XXL s marked on the backs. This is definitely the killer's doing. "What kind of crime is this?"

   "So, the clue is that all kids the Cheshire kills are fat?" The Pillar seems amused.

   "It definitely is."

   "Great. Take off your duster and shoes, Alice," the Pillar says. "And jump in the bag. The mortician should arrive—"

   The signal fades.

   "Pillar," I pant as I take off my shoes and duster and throw them behind a desk. "Can you hear me?" I get into the bag and start zipping myself from the inside, which is really complicated, but I manage to zip up to my forehead as I lie on my back.

   Inside the bag, I tuck the phone in my pocket and silence it, afraid it will ring while the mortician is present.

   I begin breathing as slowly as I can.

   Calm down, Alice. In only a few minutes, you'll be safe.

   I close my eyes as I hear footsteps nearing from the outside. A metallic door opens.

   I take a deep breath and try to think of something relaxing so I won't panic. I can only think of one person who makes me feel that way. The one person I believe gives meaning to my life, and the one I really care for, even it makes no sense, and even if he is mad enough to call himself Jack Diamonds.