Fiction

Coffee Break

Constable Percy sat down at his desk. He picked up his coffee mug, the one his wife gave him as a joke for his twenty five years on the force – the one with the saying ‘not a morning person’ written in bold type with a picture of a ragged looking groundhog surfacing from a long winter’s nap – and drew it to his lips. The phone rang.

“Percy here,” he droned in his usual monotone.

“Constable?” whispered the voice on the other end. “It’s about your wife’s case. I think I’ve got something.”

Percy straightened, displaying an alertness he hadn’t shown since they started the search for Beatrice Beck, his wife’s sister, almost two years ago. He hated to mix his personal life with work, he had explained to his wife Margo, but even he had to agree, with the resources available to him, it was worth a shot.

The story was familiar. A young woman becomes pregnant at the tender age of sixteen. The father of the child hastily marries the teenaged mother-to-be to ‘do right by her’ and they attempt to raise their offspring. But responsibility becomes difficult for the young Mr. Beck. He runs off and enlists in the army leaving his wife penniless and pregnant with their second child.

The children were supposed to stay together, that’s all their mother had requested when handing her two babies over to Social Services. But baby Beatrice Beck was scooped up by a wealthy couple who wanted an infant, leaving three year old Margo behind.

By afternoon Constable Percy was sitting in an overheated apartment cluttered with antiques, squirming under the scrutiny of Emily, a not unattractive Goth girl in her early twenties. Sadly however, several cups of coffee later revealed his lead was not the missing link.

“I’m not exactly sure who you’re looking for,” Emily said flatly. “Like I said, mum’s name is Bertram, Beth Bertram.” She glanced up from the New Grave magazine she was flipping through. Her cropped black hair framed bright eyes despite the thick layer of coal eyeliner. Her easy smile softened a harsh external demeanor.

Percy stood slowly and thanked the young woman, but as he turned to leave his eye caught a red letter emblazoned on the side of Emily’s coffee cup.

“What does the ‘B’ on your cup stand for?” realizing the obvious as soon as the question parted his lips.

“Bertram,” Emily replied, indifferently.

“Right,” he sighed and moved toward the door.

“Also Beatrice,” she continued, setting the magazine down, stepping toward him. “Bea’s mums cousin. She lives with us.”

Percy stopped.

“Aunt Bea’s last name, before she was adopted, began with a ‘B’ too I think, Bick or Beck or something like that. Mum would know. Anyway, we’re all about the ‘Bs’ around here.” Emily shrugged, smiling.

Constable Percy remained frozen in the doorway. Then the corners of his mouth turned up and his expression broke into a broad grin.

493 words