Crime Writer Margot Kinberg

“You ready for lunch?” Patricia Stanley asked.
Luke Enders looked up from his computer. “Why not? If you’re buying.”
“I paid last time, cheapskate! It’s your turn,” Patricia teased. Luke pretended to pout as he and Patricia got up from their desks. They got their coats and went out to Patricia’s car. On the way, they stopped by Sergeant Grant’s office to tell him their plans.
“Forty-five minutes,” Grant reminded them. “It’s Christmas Eve, so we’re not fully staffed.”

Both Patricia and Luke shivered as they got in the car, but within five minutes they’d reached Taste of Hanoi, a Vietnamese restaurant that had recently opened. Inside, the warm red and gold of the wallpaper welcomed them. Patricia breathed in the delicious smells of garlic, ginger, onion, and sauces. “I’m hungry,” she murmured to Luke, who nodded and said, “Me, too.”

When it was their turn to order, Luke and Patricia chose phở and spring rolls. Then, they sat down at a table towards the back of the restaurant. “I hope it doesn’t take too long,” Luke commented. “We don’t have that much time.”

Patricia agreed. Grant was typically flexible about breaks, but with a skeleton staff, it wouldn’t be right to push it too far.

Fortunately, the food came out quickly, and Patricia and Luke fell silent as they ate. Then, Patricia glanced up to see if there was a sign for the restroom. As she did, she noticed a man come into the restaurant. He wore a heavy black coat, a black knitted hat, and a black scarf covering most of his face. He glanced around, and Patricia noticed that he didn’t join the line of customers waiting to order. She nudged Luke and glanced quickly at the young man. Luke got the message and watched what the man did.

At first, the man didn’t do anything suspicious, although it was odd that he didn’t order anything. But then, he reached into his coat pocket. Patricia touched Luke on the arm and moved her head slightly to the right. Luke nodded, and Patricia got up and casually walked over to a condiments table that was close to the door. The man noticed her, narrowing his eyes as she moved. Then he pulled his hand out of his pocket to reveal a small gun.

Suddenly he shouted, “Everybody stop!” The restaurant went silent as he looked around. “Just stay where you are.” Then his gaze went back to Patricia, who was holding a bottle of hoisin sauce.  He walked towards her, pointing the gun as he went. “Put it down,” he barked, gesturing towards the bottle. Patricia slowly complied, but as she did, she managed to wave her left hand just a little at Luke, who’d been watching everything intently.

Luke took the hint and, inch by inch, moved towards the intruder. He heard gasps as he went, and tried to focus on the man, and not the frightened eyes of the staff behind the counter. Step by step, he moved closer.

Patricia tried to distract the gunman. “You don’t want to use that thing,” she told him. “Shut up!” he yelled. She swallowed. If she could just keep his attention while Luke got behind him, it might work. She took a step closer. “Stay where you are!” the man ordered, and Patricia froze in place. Nobody at the tables moved. Only Luke, steadily and one step at a time, moved closer.

Finally, Luke was close enough. He grabbed the man’s arm from behind and knocked the gun out of it. Then, he grabbed the man’s other arm and locked both behind his back with handcuffs.

When Patricia saw that the man was cuffed, she called for backup and quickly checked that the other diners were safe. Then, she and Luke stood guard over their prisoner. There was silence as everyone watched to see what would happen. Patricia took some long, deep breaths. Relief washed over her when the sirens sounded outside and two uniforms came in. Luke filled them in on what had happened, and they left, taking the gunman with them.

Luke and Patricia sat down at the nearest table, saying nothing for a few minutes. Then, Patricia looked up at Luke. “Thanks,” she said. That would have to do for now. “I always have to save your hide,” Luke joked, trying to lighten the atmosphere. Patricia punched him lightly on the arm.

A minute later, the manager rushed up to them. “Thank you so much!” She was half in tears as she spoke. “We have only had this restaurant for two months. We work so hard, and that man almost stole our money. You have saved us.” The other diners nodded.  Their lives had been saved, too.

Neither Luke nor Patricia liked a big fuss. “It’s our job, ma’am,” Luke said. Patricia murmured her agreement, and both got ready to leave, after once more checking that nobody had been hurt.

“We’ll be late getting back,” Patricia commented as they got in the car. She needed to take her mind off what had happened.
“At least we’ve got a good excuse,” was Luke’s reply.

At six that evening, Patricia and Luke were getting ready to leave the station when a van pulled up. Out of the van came two young men, each carrying large trays of food. The receptionist stared as the food was brought in. One of the men approached the desk. He bowed slightly and said, “Merry Christmas from Taste of Hanoi. It is our gift to thank you.”

After a moment of hesitation, the receptionist opened the door to the inside of the station. A table was cleared off, and the delivery men put the food on it, uncovering the trays as they did so. The aroma drew everyone in the station, and it wasn’t long before plates were filled. After Grant got his food, he moved over to where Patricia and Luke stood. “So, what really happened?” he asked.
“Long story,” Patricia said.