From the corner of his eye, Stan noticed the plain-brown paper-wrapped item leaning against Bruno’s apartment door. Being in the early hours of morning, and heading to work, looking in that direction was out of the norm.
Bruno’s choice of pictures surprised him. Having unwrapped it, prior to starting his working day, he thought; give me something with wide-open lands any day.
Stan’s brain was not able to adapt to things new; it was alcohol stewed. Programming the remote control for his television had a technician’s touch; and he would never consider one of those new things, computers. The style of painting fronting him was very confusing, but that was Katherine’s intention. She never intended it to be self-explanatory; she wanted the mind to delve into what the artist intended the viewer to see, or not see.
BRUNO NOVAK, were the only words on one side the brown paper he tore from the painting. With no return address displayed, he threw the paper into the garbage bin, before temporarily storing the painting in the vegetable cooler.
Pulling a cold beer from his fridge, Stan placed the painting on a kitchen chair in his apartment. The unusual and complex image was beyond his understanding.
“Who the fuck paints like this? It looks like a fucking mixed up jigsaw puzzle, but a piece is missing,” he growled, before swilling from the can.
They came to see him just after lunch, but he had seen them before.
What the fuck do they want? he thought, as the two detectives stood in the doorway of diner’s kitchen.
“Do you want to see me?” he asked, as he wiped his wet hands on a rag that resembled something used for washing cars.
“I’m Detective Perez, and ---”
“I know who you are. What do you want?”
“We’re looking for Bruno. Have you seen him lately?”
He hadn’t seen Bruno for some time, but he was suspicious, and cautious. “What do you want him for?”
“His car has been parked on Beacon Street for a while now, and it was reported abandoned. A search was done, but it’s not stolen. His name happened to come across my desk, but the last time we saw him he was living above here, not on Beacon Street. Can you remember the last time you saw him and where? If he’s missing we’d like to find him.”
“Why what?” Detective Perez fired back. Her patience was wearing thin. Why is he playing this stupid game?
He glared at her. Either she’s got fat or she’s having a kid. “Pregnant are we?” he said, sarcastically.
“What’s it got to do with you?” she snapped at him.
The thought of cracking his head with the butt of her gun crossed her mind. Because of his attitude, and her anger, she turned and walked from the diner. Detective Andretta followed, but remained silent.
Standing on the sidewalk, hands in his pockets, Detective Andretta mumbled, “Someone’s going to kill him one day, and it won’t come quick enough.”
Although Detective Perez did not reply, she thought, at least we’re on the same page.
Her mind suddenly traversed to Bruno. “We need to see if Bruno’s at his last place of employment. Jump in, we’ll head out there now.”