"I can't grasp how you can sell a muffin inspired by a ruthless killer."
"The same way you can almost sell anything with Darth Vader, Michael Myers, and Dracula on it," the Pillar says. "Villains make great business. Kids love it! Bad is the new cool. Parents pay double the price to buy their kids a Meow Muffin these days—four pounds each, and never sold in a pack, by the way—so the kids buzz off and stop annoying them. So tell me, do all the kids have Meow Muffins in their mouths?"
"They do." I wasn't waiting for him to ask. It already crossed my mind, and I checked.
"Hmm..." The Pillar ceases all munching and drinking. "Other than the fact that you only have seven minutes left, I think we have our first real clue. The question is—"
I cut in, thinking aloud: "Why a muffin?"
Chapter 15
Iain West Forensic Suite, an extension to the Westminster Public Mortuary, London. Seven minutes to go...
"So he stuffs Meow Muffins in the children's throats." I am thinking aloud. "What kind of clue is that?"
"Honestly, as much I'm satisfied we found it, I have no clue about the clue." The Pillar sounds honest. I think I have spotted a pattern, which I can't explain. It's more of an intuition when he has no idea about what's going on. Particularly when it's about the Cheshire. I wonder how those two dealt with each back in Wonderland.
"So that's it?" I haven't gone through all of this to end up empty-handed.
"I'm afraid so, Alice." The Pillar sighs. "The Cheshire's clue makes no sense. It only points at his involvement in the crimes."
"Think harder, Pillar," I demand. "I'm supposed to do the hard stuff, like entering the morgue as a corpse. You're supposed to have explanations. You're the one with memories of the Cheshire and Wonderland. This muffin has to mean something."
"Did you ever read about muffins in Lewis Carroll's books? I haven't for sure," the Pillar says. "The first killing in the stadium had one purpose only: to attract our attention to the case. Now this muffin should lead somewhere, but it escapes me."
"Then we have to think together."
"Six minutes, Alice," the Pillar warns me. "If I were you, I'd be zip myself back. We could think about it together when you're back."
"I'm not leaving without a lead to catching the Cheshire," I insist. Sometimes, I feel I want to be the Real Alice. Sometimes I don't. This is one of the times that I want to be Alice so badly it scares me. I will bring the Cheshire to justice.
"Then you might never leave this morgue."
"Let's just think again. The Cheshire chops their heads off and then stuffs them in watermelons. Doesn't that ring a bell?"
"Don't be fooled," the Pillar says. "The watermelons mean nothing. It's just a scare factor to imply nonsensical chaos. The British police are supposed to look in the watermelons matter. The muffin is for us. The Cheshire is clever. Five minutes and counting."
"Can't be five minutes yet."
"Okay, I lied." He chews on the words. "Five and a half minutes. I want you out. There is no point of blowing your cover. The world isn't ready to know about the Wonderland Wars or who you are yet. Trust me."
"The Cheshire planted the muffin so we'd get the message." I am surprised I am so adamant about solving this, but I like it. I am surprised by my lack of consideration about what happens to me.
Because you have no life, Alice. I hate the nagging voice in my head. You're insane, probably a murderer, and no one cares about you, not even your mother and sisters. Why would it matter what happens to you? Convict or mad girl, it's all the same. That's why you're the perfect Alice for this insane job. A lonely Alice.
But I do have someone I care for, I confess in silence. Remembering him curves a weak smile on my face. It's a smile nonetheless.
"Four minutes," the Pillar counts. "Do you have any suggestions to where you want me to bury you if you die in there?"
"Anywhere but a cat cemetery." I take a few steps back and stare at the five kids. There must be more than a muffin for a clue. "Why those kids in particular?" I ask.
"What do you mean?"
"Last time, the Cheshire chose the girls for specific reasons: they were all descendants of women who had been photographed by Lewis Carroll. Why these kids this time?"
The Pillar is silent. I hope he is thinking it over. "Okay. I will give it until one minute in." He sighs. It's the first time I force him to succumb to my wishes. "Let's see. The names you read on the toe tags do not have anything in common. All we know for sure is the kids' ages, which isn't much of a lead we can follow. Boys and girls, so there is no gender issue here. I checked a few names while you were talking; all kids are either poor or middle class. None are from rich families. But then, most crimes are committed against the poorer people in the world—"
"Could it be the Cheshire didn't stuff the muffins inside?" I interrupt, clicking thumb and middle finger. "Could it be that the kids bought the muffins themselves first?"
"I don't know of kids who like to bite on Ziplocked muffins. Doesn't sound so tasty."
"You're not following, Pillar. The Cheshire later Ziplocked the muffins they bought." I'm not stating facts; I am thinking out loud. "What I am saying is the kids might have been chosen because they bought a Meow Muffin—or wanted one so badly."
"Could be," the Pillar says. "So?"
I try to figure it out, staring at the kids again. Why would he kill kids who buy these muffins?
"Two minutes."
"Wait!" I raise a numb finger in the air. "Forget about what I just said. I was wrong."
"Admitting failure is a rare virtue."
"But I'm right about something else," I say in a louder voice. "The kids!"
"What about them?"
"They are..." I squint to make sure. Could it be that the clue has been so easy to figure from the beginning? Damn you, Cheshire.
"What?"
I hurl toward the death bags and unzip the kids fully from top to bottom to see their whole bodies. Why was I so scared to look at their bodies before?
"What is it, Alice?" The Pillar is both worried and excited.
"The clue isn't in the heads!" I shriek.
"How so?"
"The same way the watermelons are designed to elude the police so we could find the muffin, the kids' heads are also a misleading trick to elude the police," I explain. "The real clue is in the bodies." All of the disconnected bodies are intact, with not one drop of blood visible. "The bodies are dressed neatly." I tell him what I see. "I don't suppose the kids wore those at the time of the crimes. The kids have been dressed up later. I mean the kids' bodies have been dressed up later."
"So, the heads were more of an 'x that marks the spot.' Makes sense, since the police located the bodies in their houses, a few hours after locating the heads." The Pillar is excited. "So what is the clue? Almost one minute, Alice. You better get going."
"The kids' pockets are filled with endless candy, bars, and tarts."
The Pillar is silent.
"Snicker Snackers chocolate bars, Tumtum cans, and Queen of Hearts Tarts," I say, reading the labels. "Are these known snacks sold in Britain now?" I don't remember any of those two years ago, but then again, I don't remember anything two years ago.