Despite his friendly and nice aura, Constable could see through his facade. Taking notes on his demeanor, Constable was vaguely aware of the whispers the wind took from the towns people and encircled him. He already knew they doubted his reasons, but he was a very rational and stubborn man, and he would not let loose on the mans case. The man was a dead hessian, constable was sure of this, but the problem was he was the only one aware of this. Everyone else was blind to this fact and believed that constable was going bonkers. They often mentioned that he was under a lot of stress since he became a widow and there was a selected few who were running rumors about him ending up in the mad house by the end of the week. He did debate with himself and came to a conclusion in his mind that, yes, he was stressed, but not to the point where he was completely off his rocker. He knew what he saw every time his eyes laid upon the man, and did conclude that the man, in fact, was a dead hessian. But how do you show something like this to people who have the eyesight of a bat? That is why constable was investigating the intriguing man, and sought out evidence against him.
Constable tore his eyes away from his writing for a mere second when he heard the man speak for the first time since he began to interrogate him.
“Pardon”,Constable said bemused.
“Heinrich Luneberg ’tis my name”, he stated while he identified Constable, “but you may address me by Heinrich.”
Heinrich then examined constable’s eyes very closely. Abashed by Heinrich’s intense stare, constable quickly averted his gaze, but not before getting a clear look at grey eyes with the slightest hint of blue in them.
“Let’s just go with Henry then”, constable concluded while collecting his bearings.
After a moment of silence Heinrich aroused the question, “I do hope that you will appease me by bestowing upon me your name?”
Constable contemplated for a bit if he should conceal his identity, but seeing as though even if he gave the man his name he would not give away anything more, he decided to give Henry an answer.
“Constable Ichabod Crane”, the constable informed.
“Hm, a very intriguing name, and yet ’tis a name that very much suits you”,Henry chuckled,”How about Ichabod? It does very well without all the formalities, don’t you agree?”
Just as Ichabod opened his mouth a very strong gust of wind commenced and took off running with Ichabod’s notes that were once dangling from his hand. When realizing his clumsiness had put him in a bad predicament he shrieked and catapulted after his notes. A few moments later the wind ceased and he recaptured all his notes. Feeling a victor, he turned on his heels and began to retreat back to where he saw Henry last. When he returned however he was baffled to see the place was vacant.
To be continued…
By: Patience Muniz