The Death of Sophie Crook (A John Smith Case) (by Rika)

The Death of Sophie Crook
(A John Smith Case)

“So Detective, What have you got?”
“Well, not much I guess, a dead body and a messy crime scene, but don’t worry Mr. District Attorney, I will get the hang of it eventually”
“Yeah… you certainly always do John, a guy like you who keeps our business running”
“Ha-ha.....That’s affirmative, sir. Now, will you excuse me for a moment? I need to ask the husband a few questions”

“Hello Mr. Crook, I am Detective. John Smith, please accept my condolences”
“Thank you very much detective, who do you think could’ve done something like this?”
“To soon to tell Mr. Crook, but I promise you we’ll get who ever did this”
“Is there anything I can do to help?, I really want justice takes place here”
“There are some questions I need to ask you, Sir, if you don’t mind”
“No, anything Detective”
“To your knowledge, did your wife have enemies or perhaps some people who might not be friendly?”
“Hm…. now that you mentioned it, we do run a small business that’s starting to make the competitors nervous”
“You mean your restaurant at the end of this block?”
“Yup, The Sophie’s Taste recently has been quite famous around here and since we decided to market it online, nonlocal customers keep coming”
“I see….. which reminds me, Sir, now that your wife has passed away, what will happen to your wife’s restaurant?”
“Sophie loved her business, detective, so I will try to keep it running for her, as the proof of my love for her”
“Of course, and the competitors that you mentioned, any name in particular?”
“Yes, Patty O’neil, she owns the diner right in front of our restaurant, she has really been showing unpleasant behavior lately”
“What kind of behavior?”
“Unfriendly ones, like last week she intentionally put some stinky dead rats right in front of our restaurant, the smell was really hard to get rid off so that we lost some customers that day”
“And how do you know she’s the one who did that?”
“Because the next morning she said to my wife that what had happened that night was only the beginning”
“Okay, Mr. Crook, I will look into this, thanks for the sharing”
“Anything to help you found the bastard, detective!”

“Good morning, Mrs. O’Neil”
“Good morning, do I know you?”
“I believe not ma’am, I’m Detective Smith. Can I have a word with you?”
“I’m kina busy here, detective, what is it about anyway?”
“You know Mrs. Sophie Crook?, the owner of The Sophie’s Taste in front of your diner?”
“Oh, her, of course I knew her”
“Knew? So you already know what had happened to her?
“Yeah I know, people talks you know, they said she was killed? Is that true?”
“That’s right, ma’am, that’s why I’m here, I need to gather some information that can help me to solve this case”
“Okay, what do you want to know exactly?”
“Hm….. for a start, I can see that you’re making some extra profits from your diner today…quite customers here you’re having? I understand that you haven’t really had much of customers lately?”
“What? Are you accusing me of something here? It’s true that her place was my ultimate competitor, but I would never do something that stupid”
“But don’t you think the Rat Incident last week was also a little stupid?”
“Oh…that… that’s like a one time thing okay? I was very upset, she had been using her boops as the ultimate ad to attract more customers”
“Is that so? And that made you out of your mind?” So, it is also possible you couldn’t resist it anymore? That you just had to do something to shut her business down?”
“No, I’m not that crazy, I have kids to feed Mr. Smith and maybe you found me not as intelligent as you are, but I do know that killing somebody is a major crime and will get me behind bars for the rest of my life …because as you can see detective, I’m already an old lady”
“Sorry, ma’am, but I just need to dig in a little deeper.. that’s all, do you have any alibi for lastnight?”
“Yes, I was here, serving some customers…. You can ask my 2 waiters”
“Don’t worry Mrs. O’Neil, I will”
“Be my guess, Detective, but if I were you, I would check on the husband as well”
“And why is that Mrs. O’Neil?”
“He is not exactly a good husband himself, detective, he had an affair with his very own sister in law…. a 22 years old girl … as sweet as honey......I saw them kissing a month ago......and believe me Detective, it was definitely not a kiss of a brother in law. And that Detective….is something for you to check on”
“Sure thing ma’am, I most certainly will”

“Hey, Pete, what has your team had so far? Don’t disappoint me, my friend”
“This is a tough one, John, no prints what so ever, no bloody knife, nothing accept….these”
“Ah… Some hairs… what do you know?” Have you got any idea whose hairs are those?”
“As you know John…. We need some DNA samples to confirm that, but I do know one thing though, they’re far too long to belong to a man”
“Okay, thanks for the information Pete, and about those samples? I have to keep digging first before asking the court a warrant”
“Good luck with that, then. Keep me posted”

“Miss. Simmons, isn’t?”
“Yes, detective, have you got the person who did this?”
“Not yet, ma’am. We’re still working on it, thank you for coming”
“No problem , Detective. If I can anyway be in assistance?”
“In a matter of fact, there are some questions that you should answer, Miss. Simmons”
“Certainly, Detective…. And please just call me Claire”
“Very well, Claire, Did you or did you not have a close relationship with your brother in law?”
“Excuse me? Where did you get that idea from?”
“From some reliable sources, including Mr. Crook himself…. We have asked his confirmation earlier this morning”
“Okay I did, but it's over now because I realize that he's a jerk.... but for your information Detective, I’ve never meant anything to hurt Sophie, I love her”
“We’re not exactly talking about hurting someone only by heart here, Claire”
“What do you mean?”
“We found some hairs at the crime scene, Claire, ….long brown hairs…..like your hair Claire, I bet it will be a match if you’re willing to give us some samples of yours”
“Don’t bother, Detective, I admit I was there that night, Sophie called and confronted me about the affair… I decided to go there to apologize and we had a big fight…but It was not like what you think….I did not kill her… I would never do that…. she was still my sister”
“Claire, it would be easier if you just come clean about this”
“I’m telling you, Detective, I didn’t have anything to do with it”
“Your hairs are the proof that you’re the only one there that night….but here what I don’t get….. why can’t we find a single fingerprint there? Did you wear gloves? Did you plan this all along?”
“What? No prints? That’s impossible….. I didn’t wear any gloves that night, you must have found some of my fingerprints on her red blouse because we did have a physical struggle that night. She was very mad at me and maybe one of us would get hurt if I didn’t run away”
“Red? I believe she was wearing a black pajamas when we found her…. And we didn’t find any red blouse in her laundry either”
“That’s impossible. I’m sure it was red and it certainly not pajamas. What’s going on here?”
“Did you tell any body you’re going there that night…Mr. Crook perhaps?”
“No, I didn’t tell him, I didn’t tell anybody accept my mother”
“Your mother? Mrs. Simmons? Can she verify that?”
“I think so, she’s outside the room, she did not want me to go alone”
“Alright, I’ll get her”
“Mrs. Simmons? Can you join us for a moment?”
“Is there anything wrong? Can Claire go home now?”
“Please come with me, ma’am, your daughter may need a company”


“Okay Mrs. Simmons, have a seat, please”
“Your daughter said she told you that she was going to Sophie’s residence that night? Can you confirm that?”
“What? Claire, why did you tell him that you were there that night?”
“I have to Mom, he already knew”
“What?? No! That’s impossible!”
“Why is it impossible Mrs. Simmons? We found a physical proof at the crime scene that connect it to her”
“You’re lying! You couldn’t have found anything there, not even a single finger print!”
“How can you be so sure, Mrs. Simmons?? From your tone, you make it sound that you have made sure that we couldn’t find any finger print at all?” Did you do anything that night to make sure we can’t find our way to Claire?”
“What are you saying, Detective?”
“You killed Sophie didn’t you Mrs. Simmons?” and you wiped out all possible print made by Claire, didn’t you? Including changing Sophie’s blouse” “And I can see that you’re wearing gloves today, because you wear them everyday, don’t you? Including that night? You went there to make sure Claire was alright…. Somehow ended up stabbing your own daughter!” And I’ve just realized that you have the same hair color like Claire’s… maybe the ones we found were not Claire’s after all, They’re yours, aren’t they?”
“No, Detective, Stop it! My mother would never do that. She loves us both. She wasn’t there!”
“Well, Claire, she can proof her innocence by giving some hair samples of her own”
“No, detective, I’m telling you, she wasn’t there!”
“I was, Claire. I was there. I came after you that night, just to make sure that you were alright and I saw her slapping you around…. And blame you for the whole thing, and said that her husband is innocent…. While she had known all along that he has been playing around with at least a half dozen of women. She had always known, but still kept hurting her sister for him. As soon as you’re gone…. I tried to get her sense on this matter… but in returns, she accused me to love you more than her. She accused me that… after all I’ve done to make her dreams come true….you didn’t even have the chance to go to college because I don’t have any more money…. because I have had to make sure Sophie got all she wanted….making sure she got her degree ...including giving her financial support when she wanted her own restaurant…..after all that…. she still accused me of having more affection for Claire. So, I simply got really disappointed and angry, and I saw the knife…. I realized that Claire will be the one who will look very guilty so I made sure the police could not find anything….. I just didn’t realize that an old lady doesn’t have strong hairs anymore.”
“Oh, Mom, why did you do that?”
“Because I love you…. I may have been always loving Sophie more the whole time….. but it turns out that the last stupid thing I did is because my love for you Claire, not for Sophie”

(Rika, rikacintara@gmail.com)

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She is Not A Terrorist (by Rika)

SHE IS NOT A TERRORIST


The Mackinac Bridge, the bridge connecting The Upper and Lower Peninsulas of Michigan, is the bridge where they met for the first time. It was Sunday afternoon, where the bus she was taking suddenly stopped because of 2 flat tires. Feeling helplessly and desperately needed a ride for an appointment, she waved her hand for any car who would stop and give her a ride. After waving for 5 minutes, a car suddenly stopped and she with her veil and long sleeves blouse, briefly explained her situation and got into the black sedan.
“What’s your name?” asked the man politely.
“Azizah, and you are…..”
“I’m Joe, nice to meet you…..sorry……what was it again?”
“It’s Azizah, a little difficult to pronounce for an American, but you can call me Ziza if in anyway will be easier for you”
“Yeah…it is a bit hard for me, I think “ziza” will do just fine.
“So, ziza, what do you do?”
“I’m a student actually, I’m taking my master degree” “How about you?”
“I work in a private company” “You said you have an urgent appointment?”
“Yes, with my professor, in a coffee shop just up right the next avenue”
“Hm…say….after this can I call you some time?”
………………………………

“Azizah, I can’t believe you’re going to marry Joe, you’ve only seen him for two months”
“I know Cyn, but that is exactly what I should do as soon as possible”
“But, why? I know he’s a nice guy, but don’t you think you guys need more time to get to know each other a little better?”
“Yeah, I’m really aware of that, but in my religion, an unmarried couple is not suppose to be together too long”
“Oh, if you start to talk about religion, I just simply give up, it’s just too complicated for my “simple” life”.
“okay Cyn, suit yourself” “You’re still my best friend anyway”

The gate is now being opened, telling a young couple to enter the residence of Will McCarthy, a well known businessman in town.
“Joe, I’m kina scared”
“Don’t be, I’m right here, you’ll be okay”
“The problem is you haven’t even told them that you’re a Moslem now”
“I know, we’ll do this step by step, okay?”
“But Joe,……”
“You want them to give us their blessing right? Remember, we’ll be together in 2 weeks”
“I sure do, okay here goes, Bismillahirrahmanirrahiim”
”Hey, you only taught me “Bismillah” what you just said was a whole lot longer than that”
“Yeah, the short one is quite okay for a beginner like you, Joe”

The bell is ringing and at this point, her heart is beating much faster as the door is being opened.
“Hi Mom, Dad” “This is Ziza” “and Ziza, they’re my parents, your parents in law to be”
“Good afternoon, Mr. and Mrs. McCarthy, It’s really a pleasure to meet you"
The well dressed middle-aged couple can not believe with what they’re seeing right now. A girl dressed in a black long skirt, long sleeves blue blouse, and ………they can’t even define the piece of silk-like fabric covering her hair.
“Mom, Dad, aren’t you going to ask us in?”
“Oh,, yes of course,, come in dear”

In the living room, they still can’t stop staring her strangely, how can his oldest son decided to marry this girl, who dresses this kind of clothes in a hot summer like this. They start to remember all the tragedies that have happened in the past years, especially the WTC bombing in 1993 and as soon as Joe mentioned her place of origin, the Bali bombing that killed hundreds of men also begin to cross their mind.
“Dear, are you really sure to go on with your plan? I mean, you both are still very young”
“She’s 28 years old, Mom and I’m 30 years old. I think, we’re quite ready, don’t you think so too, Dad?”
“I guess what’s your mother is trying to say is that maybe you need some more time”
“I’ve never felt this sure, Dad”
“Sasha, do you wear that …..what do you call it dear?”
“Veil, Mom” and...it's Ziza, not Sasha."
“Right, Ziza, so the veil, you don’t wear it everyday right ?”
“It’s a must in my religion, ma’am”
“It’s just…. I didn’t have any idea that you’re a Moslem, because I’ve heard many times that people like you like to bomb other people who are not like you”
“Mom! I can’t believe you said that to her”
“It’s okay Joe, Mrs. McCarthy, like a Wiseman said “don’t judge a book by it’s cover”, “Those people that you’re worrying about can not represent all of us who wear veil”
“But, most of you are like that, right?”
“Dad!!”
“No, sir, not most of us, only few of us, just like only Few African Americans are violent, only few Cuban sell drugs, only few Indians cut off people’s head, and only few honorable officers Corrupt”
“Say no more, Ziza, we’re out of here”

As they’re driving away, the young couple knows that life will get better eventually.

(By Rika, rikacintara@gmail.com)

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The Life I Had (by Rika)

The Life I Had

March 10th, 2008
I am standing here….facing the most beautiful palace that I’ve ever seen. The carved 4 meters high door is almost about to swallow my dignity. My dignity, it has always been the only thing that I have in life, the only thing that has kept me going all this time. I have done all possible ways to earn a living. Yeah… I do mean all possible ways, from becoming a newspaper boy, washing dishes at a restaurant, taking pizza deliveries, painting houses, gardening, until baby sitting. That last one may sound an ordinary job but it’s not so ordinary for a 14 years old boy. All those struggles have always been for my mother. My mother, a 42 years old woman that looks 10 years older ever since ‘life’ decided to turn itself against us.
For the past 6 years, we live in the Southern California's suburbs, in a 3 x 3 m2 room that smells like garbage because it’s surrounded by it. Having no day passed by without her sweat, my mother has determined to achieve our own better life, the life without him, the father that I once had. That’s right, I had a father 6 years ago, a father that I adored very much, a handsome tall brown haired man who drove me in his Rolls-Royce Silver Seraph to school every morning. Life was a whole lot different back then. I can’t really remember any sorrow I had had until the lightning stroke our family. The lightning that I usually call ‘the blond bitch’. Since she doesn’t really have a brain nor a heart, her 27 years old body must have always been her one and only weapon against my mother. I still can’t forget the day when both my mother and I saw that disgusting view in our very own 2 story house, the view that shouldn’t been seen by an 8 years old, the view that involves 2 people and one of them was a husband and a father. We hate him for giving us the worst day of our life and since that day on, we have promised ourselves to live our own life. It has never been easy, but we have always found a way to survive.

March 9th, 2008
The only woman I love is now lying on the hospital bed, weak, and thin. It has been 2 weeks now and no good signs have appeared. The cancer in her has somehow managed to change the most beautiful woman I know into this fragile old woman. The hospital bills that I can’t cover even by selling my soul have been playing inside my head over and over again. And just now, the lightning stroke my life once again. This time, it was ‘the doctor’ saying that the hospital will stop treating my mother with those highly expensive liquids if I don’t come up with a good intention to pay up our debts. This is the point where I decided to disregard our promise 6 years ago.

March 11th, 2008
“Can you slowly tell me what just happened there? Just take your time and tell me all about it, so that I can help you” said the nice lady who introduced herself as my attorney. This small room where we’re having this conversation has nothing in it but a medium size wooden table with 4 chairs and a big weird looking mirror. Then I told her everything what happened in the house where I once lived in, where for the second time, I begged for my father’s help to save my mother, where the lightning stroke for the third time when he simply can’t disobey ‘the blond bitch’s order to refuse my request, and where I saw a knife on the dining table and stabbed it right into his stomach.

(By Rika, rikacintara@gmail.com)

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