FICTION | MYSTERY | SHORT STORY | CREATIVITY | WRITING

Who Was Responsible For Vandalism of Luxury Cars in a Toronto Neighborhood?

A dazzling case that gained unusual media attention resulting in far-reaching changes (part one)

One hundred cases of smashed shields in 48 hours had the entire police station in panic mode. Honest Hill area was an upscale neighborhood renowned for beautiful early twentieth-century houses.

More puzzling was that only the Tesla, BMW, Mercedes, and Subaru models were vandalized. The other cars parked in the same driveway were untouched. So far, there have been no witnesses or clues about the miscreant.

The Chief of Police had convened an urgent meeting to discuss the case at 6 a.m. under the glare of the media, the intent gaze of the rich and famous of Honest Hill, and the glower of the lawyers ready to pounce upon them with lawsuits.

Mason Denson summoned his veterans to join. Inspector Raha Kashif was strolling away the suitcases to the garage. Finally, she had a two-week vacation on her belated honeymoon when she received the text from the boss. Reza didn’t even ask and took the suitcase from her hands, signalling he’d do the cancellations of the flights and the hotels.

The station was just a five-minute walk from her home; she biked to reach there faster today. Raha logged back into the system to get the latest updates and discovered the incidents were all reported from her street, Rossman Avenue. But no thefts piqued Raha’s interest, and the remorse of missing the flight to Maldives lessened slightly.

Everyone was excited for Thanksgiving except those who had to be on duty the long weekend. Autumn decorations and pumpkin lattes were everywhere, making her regret the impulse to check the phone a few minutes earlier; otherwise, she would been at Pearson Airport by now.

The chief gestured for Raha to come to the table while addressing the news conference. She made her way from the end of the crowded room to the front, smiling politely and mouthing that the honeymoon had been cancelled to her colleagues.

“Good Morning, everyone. I’m here with my veteran officers, who will work around the clock to solve this case and bring the charges as soon as it is humanely possible,” Masan Denson said confidently.

“I’m asking for the witnesses who might have seen or heard something around this area. I’m urging you all to call the 1–800 number to help us catch the culprit before they damage more cars and properties,” he added.

“Are there any updates from the police, or you’re still struggling to act upon it.” Randy, the Star journalist, asked in his usual gruff tone.

Raha took the mike to answer, “I want a complete blackout about the news. The information should not be shared or published. We are in the preliminary stages of gathering clues, and for now, we can only say that the person is around five-foot to five-foot-eight inches, left-handed, and didn’t have a vehicle to commit the crimes. They will likely attempt more mischief on the weekend. The motive is unclear, as no thefts or break-ins are reported.”

Her colleagues and Mason were shell-shocked at Raha’s answer because they had not figured out anything about the person. The meeting was adjourned after a few more questions that Mason handled expertly to dissuade the media from publishing more sensational news about the windshield-smashing incidents.

Raha was questioned about her profiling criteria immediately. Reza, a senior and not a rookie like her, intervened.

“The person is of medium height; as you can see, the damages to the windshields are confined to the few inches above the hood of the cars, and the presumption that the miscreant is left-handed is a personal reflection of Raha.”

Raha volunteered to show how she would use the hammer to smash, which would damage the windshield’s right-hand side; that was consistent in most cases, too.

The Chief concluded, “Okay, finish the investigation, and you will get a three-week vacation. Happy Thanksgiving. Come to my house on Monday if you don’t have a turkey tucked away in the freezer. Teresa would be delighted.”

Reza mumbled thanks while Raha said, “We don’t have any turkey or plans. But I think we will eat take-outs as we work on the case.”

Mason promised to send them dinner on Monday and made them agree to come to his home if the case was solved.

Raha thanked Reza for backing her up about the profiling specificities.

“Reza. I know most of the people who are regulars on the Beltline trail and Rossman Avenue. No one strikes me as angry or angry enough to smash windshields. Do you think they came from outside?” Raha was curious to know.

Reza had a plan. “Let’s go over the entire Rossman Avenue from Yonge to Dufferin Street by dividing the distance, and I will ask Cherry and Larry to join us. We will take a walk, Cherry and Larry will bike around, and, if needed, we’ll use patrol cars.”

Raha was thinking aloud. “Maybe the culprit would take a break to enjoy the Thanksgiving holiday. Why don’t we go for a run now? Many people will be on the trail enjoying the pleasant weather. We might get lucky and find someone doing suspicious activities.”

All four went to the change and shared the discoveries at 10 p.m.

Raha loved walking on the trail and had several acquaintances who waved hi and hellos from time to time. She went on her usual route but was extra vigilant in scouting the potential suspects.

The break from the intense heat made everyone more pleasant as they walked, ran, and jogged. Raha went home to cook dinner. Reza returned half an hour later, completing a different section of the road.

The IT consultants had given them a list of suspects involved in carjackings, thefts, and other criminal activities from all other cities, and they got busy scanning the information. After spending hours, they had no leads or possible suspects to question.

They were expectant and hoping that Cherry and Larry would come up with some good news to crack the case.

Soon, it was 10 p.m., a time to regroup and recalibrate.

Cherry had one person whom she found was acting weirdly. She showed them a picture of a 5’3 brown woman in her late fifties who slowed her pace whenever a Tesla or Mercedes honked on the street.

“This street might have the best houses, but the people are rude and impatient, especially if they drive these fancy cars. They don’t follow the rules of the road and unnecessarily pester the pedestrians by breaking hard or shouting profanities from the car. A road rage of a different kind.” Cherry noted with exasperation.

Raha looked at the picture of the brown lady intently.

“I know her. She lives near Feltline Trail, and I see her daily on my runs. She’s so sweet and always smiling. I like her. She cannot be the one vandalizing cars.”

Reza was curious now, “I will go out again. Can you please share your usual route with me, Raha?”

Raha wanted to join him, too, but he declined.

It was 5 am, just before the crazy rush of Toronto traffic. The construction noise was silent, fewer cars were on the road, the birds were not chirping, and only one or two joggers were seen on the trail. Reza had taken a break when he noticed a petite figure walking with a hammer in her hand. 😂😂

PS: Was the brown lady going to smash another Tesla on Rossman Avenue? My guess is as good as yours. 😂😂

© Fatima Imam (All Rights Reserved)

Sincere thanks to Denise Larkin, BA (Hons), for giving my fiction short stories a safe haven in her publication:

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