Theft at the chocolaterie

Welcome to the Spot Writers. This month’s prompt: Write about something that involves large quantities of chocolate.

This week’s contribution comes from Chiara De Giorgi. Chiara is currently in Berlin, Germany, doing her best to catch up with semi-abandoned writing projects. Her YA novel “Mi chiamo Elisa” (My name is Elisa) was published in Italy by “Le Mezzelane Casa Editrice” in September 2020 and recently in Turkey with the title “Benim adım Elisa”. Her children’s book “Şebnem ve Schrödinger’in Kedisi” (Chiara and Schrödinger’s cat) was published this year in Turkey by Sia Kitap and in Italy with the title: “Chiara e il Gatto di Schrödinger”.

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 Theft at the chocolaterie

by Chiara De Giorgi

Photo by Hakuna Matata on Unsplash

“Who could do such a thing?” Emma exclaimed, outraged. “Steal chocolates? That’s basically sacrilege!”

She and Max, her assistant, surveyed the empty counters in her shop in desolate disbelief. Emma had opened the chocolate shop, “Chocoholic”, a year earlier. The enterprise had filled her with apprehension, but her great love for chocolate made her bold and, in the end, she won the bet and the business was already profitable. Not overly so, but just enough to afford an assistant. Max was the still-teenage son of her best friend. He was a good boy but suffered from dyslexia and had never been very good at school stuff. Emma decided to offer him a chance and Max turned out to be a perfect assistant, his love of chocolate almost equal to her own.

So, everything was going well and now... Emma cast another sad glance at the empty counters, counters that only last night were covered with chocolates of a thousand varieties, each of them prepared with love and care for the chocolate festival that weekend. This really threatened to be a major setback for her business. On the other hand, she considered with a sigh, that’s what you can expect if you are the protagonist in a cosy mystery book about an inexperienced young woman who owns a successful chocolate shop in a small, unknown village.

They had called the police, so now there was nothing to do but wait. No chance of making it to the festival now. Emma and Max could say goodbye to that weekend’s earnings, probably the equivalent of a month’s income. Maybe the machine she bought second-hand last year would last until the next festival. Max had identified the precise spot to give it a good whack with his hand and get it going again when it jammed, after all.

 

Detective Rodriguez pulled up and got out of his car, a nondescript grey city car, and took a good look around before approaching the chocolate shop. When he entered, the bells above the door jingled and Emma rushed to meet him. Rodriguez shook her hand, then took off his sunglasses revealing cerulean blue eyes and tossed his lush tuft of blond hair. A look completely incongruous with his name, but typical in novels of the genre. Emma questioned, not for the first time, her decision to live in a cosy mystery book.

“Detective! Thank you for getting here so quickly. We've been robbed and won't be able to attend the chocolate festival”, Emma said, on the verge of tears. Thinking of all her beloved chocolates in the hands of an insolent chocolate thief made her feel hopeless and helpless.

“Hmmm”, said Detective Rodriguez, then turned his scrutinising eyes on Max. “Where were you when the theft occurred?”

The boy paled and stammered out a reply: “Not... sure... That is... I mean... How do I know when the theft took place? Maybe I was at home, maybe at the cinema... Who knows!”

“We closed at seven last night, as always”, Emma said. “Max left and I stayed to pack my bag with gadgets and business cards to take to the festival.”

She was a little annoyed by the detective’s question. It really seemed like a stupid question to her. And how could he suspect Max? It was absurd!

Detective Rodriguez looked around casually, then approached the counter and leaned over to observe a detail with his magnifying glass. Emma and Max held their breath. What had he discovered?

The detective slipped the lens into his breast pocket, then dusted off his sleeve and lifted his gaze to Emma, who was momentarily mesmerised by his clear blue eyes, but immediately collected herself because she did not want to get carried away by the script that a lazy writer had penned for her.

“So?” she and Max asked.

“Who is your biggest competitor?” Rodriguez asked.

Max and Emma looked at each other. The XYZ Shopping Mall instantly came to their minds. The owner, Mrs Thompson, was a ruthless businesswoman who hated Emma and her little shop “Chocoholic”. She had opened a department in her mall where she sold all kinds of low-priced industrially made chocolates. More than once she had mocked Emma and her dream.

The detective’s eyes sharpened.  “And will this Mrs Thompson be attending the chocolate festival?”

 

An hour later, Emma, Max and Detective Rodriguez were at the chocolate festival to check every stall, but especially the XYZ Shopping Mall booth.

“I think it would be a bit conspicuous if Mrs Thompson put my chocolates on sale at her booth at the chocolate festival, no?” observed Emma. “She probably just threw them away to prevent me from participating!”

Detective Rodriguez gave her a long look, then put on his sunglasses and resumed walking.

“Young lady, let me do my job. You are the chocolate maker, and I am the detective.”

Emma bit back a rude reply and wondered how she was going to stick to her script with that stuck-up blond guy… At least he had a good figure, if he retrieved the loot maybe she would give him a chance. Otherwise, she would try a different genre. It was rumoured that fantasy offered many more options nowadays.

Finally they spotted the booth, which was large, brightly coloured and emitted a very loud music.

“Stay here”, whispered the detective.

Emma wanted to tell him that there was no need to whisper and hide: they were at a fair, for goodness’ sake! She bit her lip to force herself to keep quiet.

“I don’t think he’s very bright, this detective”, Max said once Rodriguez had walked away.

Emma felt annoyed by that comment: she suddenly felt very protective of Rodriguez.

Oh my God, the script is working! she said to herself, as her heart fluttered in her chest.

Just then, the detective returned with Mrs Thompson in tears and in handcuffs.

 

“There’s our thief!” he exclaimed, strutting. “Just as I suspected!”

“Mrs Thompson... I knew you hate me, but... stealing the chocolates! How could you do such a thing?”

Sobbing, Mrs Thompson confessed her crimes.

“Yes, it is true, I am jealous of your success! How can a small chocolate shop like yours, in a small unknown village, make enough money to live on and afford an assistant? How much chocolate do the villagers buy? They must all have rotten teeth and more diabetes than a hundredweight of sugar!”

“Mrs Thompson”, Emma replied seriously, “a businesswoman like you cannot make such mistakes. Don’t you know we’re in a cosy mystery book? I’m the protagonist, of course it’s irrelevant how many chocolates my fellow citizens buy: “Chocoholic” will thrive, and I’ll probably end up sleeping with the blonde-haired Spanish detective. You should have thought of that before you stole my chocolates!”

Mrs Thompson once again burst into tears, asking forgiveness for her crimes, and promising to turn over a new leaf and change her life. She would no longer sell chocolates in her mall and indeed, to prove her good faith she would buy new machines for Emma’s shop.

“Please uncuff her”, Emma, deeply touched, asked Rodriguez.

The two ladies hugged and Max seized the moment to approach the detective and ask him a question that was pressing him.

“Excuse me, Mr Detective. I'm really impressed at how quickly you solved this case. I find it impossible to believe that Mrs Thompson behaved in such a naive manner. Given your experience, I ask you: how is this possible?”

“Well, my boy, let me tell you something: even if sweet Emma thinks she is in a cosy mystery book, the truth is that this is a short story, so there is no room for a complicated plot. Next time, having a couple of hundred more pages at our disposal, we could build a more intricate case... What do you say, would you like to join me?””

Max’s eyes widened in surprise and gratitude.

“I would love to! Thank you!”

“Very well, then. I will call you when the time comes. Now...” The detective slipped on his sunglasses and ran his hands through his blond hair. “I have to go and ask Emma out, that’s how these stories end. Remember that.”

 

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The Spot Writers—Our Members:

Val Muller: http://www.valmuller.com/blog/

Catherine A. MacKenzie: https://writingwicket.wordpress.com/wicker-chitter/

Phil Yeats: https://alankemisterauthor.wordpress.com

Chiara De Giorgi: https://chiaradegiorgi.blogspot.com/