Chocolate On A Tuesday

Detective Zachary Moore made his way to the door of the Sunshine Diner, sighing. He opened the door, nodding at the waitress. Being a regular, he’s familiar with the entire staff. Moore sits down in the nearest booth, waiting for the waitress to take his order. The detective ran his hands over his beard, sighing. It had been a long day, much too long for his taste. And here he was stuck, waiting in a diner, when he could be in his bed. Moore reached into his pocket, grasping a cigarette. He lights his cigarette, puffing out smoke. “What can I get for you today, Detective?”, the waitress asks with a smile.

Moore smiles back at her and says, “A slice for me and Spruce”. The waitress scribbles something on her notepad, smiling as she walks away, and towards the cake. Moore had not seen Private Investigator Spruce in a week, or was it longer? Spruce had disappeared, obsessing over “Ahab”. The man had a habit of falling into obsession with many cases, often ignoring both food and sleep. Moore looked down, realizing the waitress had brought over the cake. That was fast. Very fast. How had he not noticed? Was he zoning out this whole time? Was he so sleep deprived that he was imagining the piece of cake in front of him? Man, he really needed to get more than an average of four hours of sleep per night. Moore heard a door opening, averting his attention to the entrance. Spruce walked in, looking very disheveled. His hair was more of a mess than usual, and he was wearing a bathrobe.

He sat down across from Moore, looking at the Detective with an odd expression. Moore shook his head, “Just eat your cake” he said, with an annoyed tone. Spruce did, eating it in his odd way, as only Spruce could. He would shave off the icing with his fork, then set it aside. After setting it aside, he would cut the cake into several different pieces, similar to how a child would do it. Then, he would eat his icing, and once he finished the icing, he would eat the rest of the cake. Moore had once asked him why he did this, which only resulted in Spruce looking at the detective like he had three heads. That had been two years ago, and Moore had not asked him since.

“The entire precinct has been on my keister about you”, Moore said in a tone that sounds more defeated than annoyed. Spruce put his hand up, signaling him to stop talking. When he ate his cake, Spruce preferred complete silence. Said he “needed to concentrate”. Who needs to concentrate to eat a piece of cake? How much “concentration” does that even require? Moore brought his cigarette to his lips, puffing out more smoke. It really had been a long day. He waited a few minutes, allowing Spruce to finish his cake. “Okay” Moore said, “You need to give me something to bring back to the Captain. He’s getting impatient”. Spruce rolls his eyes and mutters something incomprehensible. Moore sighs, shaking his head. “You’ve just been looking into Ahab, haven’t you?” Moore says in a frustrated voice. “I’m getting closer, much closer. I’ve almost cracked his thought process” Spruce says. “And how have you achieved that?” Moore replies. “By going through every murder attributed to him, and planning out how I would carry them out, of course. I wrote it all down in detail if you’d like to see”, Spruce replies. Moore runs his hands over his face. He used to Spruce’s quirks, but this is a bit extreme. How was he even supposed to respond to that? It’s no secret that Spruce’s mind is a bit…deranged at times. The issue is that there has always been a line, always a place too far for even the private investigator to go. This feels a bit further than normal, perhaps too far this time. “Listen” Moore says, “let’s keep that uh, method of yours, between us. Better that way”. The last thing Moore needed was the guys on the force thinking Spruce had finally gone looney. Spruce shrugs, unsure of what the big deal is.

“Just..” Moore begins, “how far are you willing to go to catch this guy?”. Spruce looks at him with an intense determination. “As far as I need to”, Spruce says with conviction. Moore shakes his head, not exactly surprised. He’s always known there was a fierce determination with the private investigator, but that conviction surprised him. He’s almost impressed. Spruce tilts his head a bit and points to Moore’s piece of cake, “Say” Spruce says, “are you planning to eat that?” Moore looks at him with a deadpan expression. Well, he did say almost impressed...