Mystery of a Package

“Senator so and so receives something something explosive packages….” Joana was glancing through the headlines on the news feed on her smartphone with half-open eyes, laying on the bed. Joana was in her early twenties, slightly short, the lustrous eyes outshone her otherwise average features. She was a senior majoring in Finance at Ohio State University. The morning’s alarm has started her body’s ignition. It would take fifteen more minutes to gain the momentum to leave the bed. As Joana was brushing her teeth while rubbing her left eye, an Amber alert vibration mentioned the presence of a terror suspect in the locality. She opened her lips awkwardly to view her teeth. She was as pleased as punch with the whiteness of her teeth. She heard some fading footsteps at the door, opened it, and discovered a package wrapped in brown paper. She extended her hand to pick it up but instantly flinched back. The two pieces of information entrapped in her subconscious mind triggered this involuntary recoil response. She was not expecting any package. She went inside and picked up the phone to check if her mother was expecting anything. The door was left partially agape. Split seconds later, her mother Mrs. William returned from a morning walk with her dog Max. Her rottweiler sniffed the package, barked once, and swerved to the other side digressing from his idiosyncrasy of prying into any never-before-seen object. “What is this packet?” She picked it up, it smelled horrible even from a distance from her nose. Miss Barbara lived next door alone. She was an eavesdropping neighbor and never missed an opportunity to intrude in the Williams family's lives. She was within her boundary wall and said “Good morning Mrs. Willaim. Why do you make the nauseous face? What is that parcel?” Miss Barbara was wearing a canary-colored house dress. She had short hair, the wrinkles on her cheek made her look older than she was. “Do not know. It's pungent,” Mrs. William responded bitterly. “Let me see. I do not smell anything.” She bought close to her nose. “Not even now, but I can hear something ticking.” She placed it near her ear “definitely some analog clock.” A sound she heard after almost ten years. Joana saw and heard this from her room through the partially open door and rushed to the door. “Throw it outside the boundary wall. It has bomb. Just throw it.“ She Panicked. Threw it. Clinched. All in one second. There was no explosion, they all stood stiff with hands on their ears. The eerie silence was broken. “I am calling 911” Joana was agile. After two minutes on the phone “They are sending the bomb squad. Wait. How did the package become green? I remember the package was brown.” Nobody responded. They went inside and within minutes the bomb squad arrived. One officer and one junior officer, both half-dressed as bomb squad specialists, briefly inspected the area. They both looked astute although the junior was oddly expressionless. The package was not there. “Where did it go? ” all three ladies screamed simultaneously. “Check the camera,” the officer was quick with the response. The computer screen showed some youth stealing the package. “You cannot call it stealing. The package was on the road,” said Mrs. William who was genuinely courteous. Using face recognition the state police data analysis department was able to identify the youth and within minutes they had the address of Neil Dantam. The officers and the ladies hurried to that address which was just three blocks away.

Interrupted by the Beethoven tune in the form of calling Bell coupled with a moderately loud bang on the door, Neil left the cats and went to open the door. “Neil Dantam?” the officer asked just to confirm. The data agency was rarely wrong. “Yes, it's me. Who are you?” Neil Dantam replied, trying hard to hide his apprehension. “Where is the package?” The officer said sternly without the slightest delay. “Which package, sir?” Neil said, making an attempt to act innocent. “The package you stole from the street,” The officer said this time even more sternly. “Sir, I did not steal…” “Where is it?” The officer did not allow Neil to finish his defense. “The the b b bedroom sir,” Neil stammered. It was a studio apartment converted to a one-bedroom apartment using a temporary partition. They all went to the bedroom, Neil leading and the officer following. The junior officer remained at the outside door as a guard.

Three cats were on the floor, one climbed on the bed. “So cute” Miss Barbara could not resist the cats. “This is a serious matter.” the officer grimed. The officer’s howl reminded Miss Barbara of the perils of the situation and the irresistible urge to massage the cats evanesced tout de suite “Can you move these cats? Where is the package?” Neil made another failed effort to move the stubborn cats. “I do not see the package. It was right here,” Neil said, pointing towards the floor. “What do you mean? Did anyone enter this room?”  “No sir, I am alone in this room. I opened the packet” “You opened the packet?” punctuated a flabbergasted Joana. “Yes, sorry. I opened the packet. I found a burger on top. I was famished. Without looking at the rest of the stuff I took a bite. It needed to be microwaved, I went to the kitchen. When I returned I found four cats in the room. I do not know where these cats came from. The doors were locked. “So these cats are not yours.” Miss Barbara said with a “so I can take them home” undertone. “No, they are not mine. I am seeing them for the first time. I was trying to get them out of the house when you people came."  Mrs. Williams, who was otherwise a gentle lady did not want to intrude on the investigation whispered to Joana’s ears, “Did you order food?” Miss Barbara with razor-sharp ears was able to hear it. “I would have told you if I ordered food,” Joana replied disgruntledly. ”Did you see any bomb in the package?” The officer inquired. “Bomb or any clock?” This time it was Mrs. Williams who was of optimistic nature. Neil was already scared. The word bomb multiplied the existing fear manifold. “I did not look at the items below. I was starving,” Neil said in a much lower shrill octave.

“Where is the package?” As the officer repeated, Neil scanned the whole apartment. “I do not see it. This bag was not there. It is not mine.” Neil said. “So you said it was a brown paper-covered package right?” the officer asked Joana. “Yes, when I called 911 I said that it was a brown package because that is what I thought. But when I saw it in Miss Barbara’s hand it seemed green.” “Yes, it was green.” Miss Barbara testified. “But the package I picked up was violet,”  Neil uttered and then pressed his lips in disquietude of being misconstrued as a deliberate attempt at thwarting the investigation. The officer did not seem surprised. He knew the witness accounts did not match. He was taught in the training that usually the witnesses are very confident that their memory is accurate but when it comes to identifying suspects, the malleable nature of human memory and the unreliability of the visual perception made eyewitness testimony one of the most untrustworthy embodiments of proof. He had seen enough practical examples of this theoretical concept in his twelve years of service. The officer catechized Joana, “Was the ticking sound in the frequency of seconds?” “I did not go very near the package and I did not hear it. Miss Barbara did. “Yes, it was clock-like tick-tock.” Miss Barbara replied, gratified like a dog with two tails to be of use for the investigation. “Did not you hear the clock tick?” the officer directed the question to Neil. “Maybe. Not sure. I walked very fast,” Neil replied in a measured tone but the lack of confidence was emanating from his body language. “My mom detected a stifling smell from the package. Did you smell anything rotten?” Neil, yearning for a break from questions directed towards him, replied: "No I did not.” Neil did not have any prior as per the agency. But the officer looked at him with skepticism. To him, Neil committed a felony today and his replies were paradoxical. Who in his position would be so hungry not to look in the contents of the package and start eating? How can so many cats enter his room with no ajar windows or doors? Where did the package go? When these questions were driving him fidgety like a cat on a hot tin roof, he asked another question to Neil with a rhadamanthine tone turning the bad cop mode on, “What were the valuables in the package?” The officer did not blink for the next fifteen seconds so as not to miss the reaction of Neil. Neil got petrified and knew he was screwed. “Sir, please believe me I did not see any other thing,”  Neil said in a sobbing tone. The adroit and experienced officer was somewhat convinced of his irreproachability but refused to grant him full immunity. “And you are saying you are saying this bag was not here?” “Yes sir I stay here alone and no one has access to my room.” The three ladies did not say a word but they seemed to be convinced that Neil was concealing something. Neil again looked for the package in the scare cupboard and underneath the bed, in the kitchen, bathroom, and the small drawing-room. “The officer regained his calm self and said, “Let me check the bag with the metal and smell detector.” He wore the full bomb squad vest to perform the checks. Both tested positive. “Everybody move out,” shrieked the officer. He called the junior. The junior dashed to the room and Neil and the three ladies went to the outside door concomitantly. They crowded near the door but wanted to view what was going inside the room. The officer repeated the test to show the junior but this time the results came negative. The stupefied officer instructed the junior to try it who complied with his boss. The results came back negative. To assuage the intense environment he repeated the test one more time and got negative results again. The officer garnered courage and opened the chain of the bag on high alert. He could not see the items inside. So he put his hand inside the bag, grasped an object, and lifted the arm to find an electric bulb to everybody’s disarray. In his next three attempts one balloon, a chain, a pencil made their appearance from the bag. No one uttered a word. A mix of affright and discombobulated look predominated everyone's face with varying proportions of the two ingredients. An awkward silence prevailed which got shattered by the ringtone of Joana’s phone. The volume was set mid-level but at that time it seemed to be ultra-loud and scared the bejesus out of Joana. On the bedroom side, the precipitous ring made the officer's blood run cold as was about to make the fifth attempt of retrieving objects from the bag. Joana looked at the screen. “Daddy” Her father was on a two-month-long contractual job on the Hawaiian island. “Hi, daddy. How are you? ” She tried to act normal as she did not want to unnecessarily stir his father by divulging about the situation here. “I am fine Jo. Listen, I just received a text about a package I sent getting delivered. Can you please see if the package got delivered?” “You sent the package daddy?” “So you got it?” Dad replied exhilarated. “What was inside the package?” Joana said lacking the thrill and put the phone on speaker. “It is a surprise gift. It may seem a little underage for you. But the daughter is never a grown-up to her father. As I scavenged through the shunned lanes of Hawaii, I found a magician’s kit. Learn the tricks and throw me a cool magic show when I am back.” said Mr. Williams totally oblivious of the hullabaloo that tore down on them. “Daddy did it contain any hazardous substance.” “Why do you say this? Do not be silly sweetheart. It is just an imbecile magician kit.” “Thank you, daddy. Love you. Talk to you later."