Dewi swallowed hard, then lowered her voice to a near whisper, “There was a message written on the pharmacy floor, large letters, in blue permanent marker. It was… a slur, bordering on a threat.”
Heru furrowed his brow, “Could you be more precise, Miss?”
Her eyes dropped to the floor as she murmured, “‘Enjoy that!!! You Dirty Old Men’s Mistresses!!!’ That was the phrase.”
Heru allowed silence to settle between them, the weight of those words hanging heavy in the air.
“Do you think this was aimed at someone specific?”
Dewi bit her lip once more, uncertainty lingering in her tone, “I can’t say for certain. But such vile slander is no accident. It’s designed to wound, to isolate someone, to send a message.”
Heru’s pen moved swiftly across the page before he ventured another question, “Had there been any signs of threats, or anything unusual, in the days leading up to this?”
Dewi paused, her gaze distant for a moment, “A couple of days ago, a woman came into the pharmacy. She was upset because the medicine she’d purchased wasn’t easing her itching. Melati and Rosa, who were on shift that morning, told me about it.”
Heru raised an inquisitive brow, “Do you recall which medicine she was after?”
Dewi nodded slowly, “It was called Incidal. It’s used for allergies and skin irritations.”
Heru inclined his head thoughtfully, “Since the discovery of the rat carcasses, what measures have you taken?”
Drawing a steadying breath, Dewi replied with resolve, “I reported the matter to the police at once. We also documented everything, photographing every corner of the pharmacy. I refuse to let this slide unnoticed.”
Heru closed his notebook and switched off the recorder, producing a business card which he handed to her.
“Thank you for your time, Miss. Should you recall anything else, please don’t hesitate to contact me.”
Dewi accepted the card with a nod, “Thank you, sir. I hope the authorities will act promptly.”
Heru exhaled softly, then added, “I would hope the same. Now, regarding the threatening message left by the perpetrator, where might I find it?”
“Please follow me, sir,” Dewi said, turning towards the front of the shop. “It’s on the floor near the entrance.”
Felzein and Heru followed close behind, passing groups of locals still murmuring outside the pharmacy.
The low hum of speculation filled the air, a testament to how this scandal had gripped the community.
Inside, Rosa and Melati were deep in whispered conversation with Rasya and Wina, their faces etched with worry.
“There,” Dewi said, stopping and indicating a sprawling scrawl of words written in vivid blue permanent marker across the floorboards.
Heru frowned as his eyes took in the crude script.
The harsh letters seemed to scream from the floor, deliberately placed where no visitor could miss them.
With a heavy sigh, he raised his phone and began capturing the message from various angles.
“This is utterly reckless,” he muttered once finished. “Whoever wrote this clearly harbours a burning grudge.”
A wry smile tugged at his lips, “But tell me, who exactly is this ‘old men’s mistresses’ they’re so eager to shame?”
Felzein chuckled softly, though his gaze remained sharp and calculating, “By the tone of the threat, it’s unmistakably aimed at one of the staff here.”
He glanced from Dewi to Rosa, Melati, Rasya, and Wina, their uneasy faces all speaking volumes.
“And if I were to hazard a guess, the culprit knows the target well, far better than a mere acquaintance.”
Heru nodded knowingly and slipped his phone back into his pocket, “So the ‘old man’ must be someone with means?”
Felzein’s grin deepened, “Indeed. Most likely someone influential or someone intimately connected to the victim of this slander.”
Heru cast a brief glance at the group of employees, voice dropping to a thoughtful murmur.
“In that case, we must identify who the true target is.”
“From there,” he continued, “we might begin to unravel who stands to gain from such spite.”
Felzein smiled thinly, “Exactly. Now, the question remains, who feels most trapped by this venomous message?”
Heru lingered in thought, his eyes drifting across the modest crowd that had gathered inside and around the quiet chaos of Koba Baru Pharmacy.
The air was thick with unspoken questions and the faint scent of disinfectant that failed to mask the earlier stench of decay.
After pointing out the threatening scrawl emblazoned across the floor, Dewi had returned to the fold, joining Rosa, Melati, Rasya, and Wina in a hushed cluster of anxious whispers.
A handful of older local men had gravitated toward the discussion, their furrowed brows betraying a mixture of concern and fascination as they speculated over the disturbing affair.
“I’ve not had the chance to speak to each of them yet,” Heru admitted, his tone low as his eyes flicked from face to face. “Still need to ask them one by one.”
Felzein offered a faint, knowing smile, one that quickly faded as his gaze sharpened.
“If you ask me,” he said, voice edged with certainty, “the one who seems the most exposed in all of this…”
He tilted his head slightly in the direction of the group, letting the weight of his silence build.
“…is Melati.”
Heru’s brow rose, “Melati? Which one is she?”
“The young woman in the white hijab,” Felzein replied, nodding subtly.
Heru followed the gesture, his eyes settling on Melati.
She stood slightly apart, her posture tense, as though she were trying to remain unseen even in plain view.
The corner of Heru’s mouth twitched thoughtfully.
“Well then,” he murmured, “perhaps it’s time we had a word with her.”
Heru was silent for a moment, digesting the weight of the claim.
Then, with a narrowed gaze, he asked quietly, “And what leads you to believe Melati is the target?”
Felzein offered a faint, almost rueful smile, “Do you recall the theft at my corner shop?”
Heru gave a short nod, “Of course. But what’s the connection with Melati?”
Felzein drew a slow breath, his expression darkening with the memory, “I don’t believe I’ve ever told you the full story.”
Heru tilted his head, intrigued, “Go on.”
“Yesterday afternoon, I received a call from Sergeant Bowo, you remember him. He told me the CCTV footage at the shop had finally been salvaged. Naturally, I went straight there.”
Heru leaned forward, “And?”
“On my way, I happened to pass Melati and Rosa. Rosa’s the one in the red hijab, you see,” he said, subtly motioning in her direction. “I called them over and asked them to accompany me to the police station. Once there, Sergeant Bowo played the recovered footage.”
He paused, the gravity of his words hanging in the air, “There were several clips. Neither Rosa nor I recognised any of the men, but Melati did."
"One of them, though masked, was familiar to her. She recognised the hair, the way he moved. She was certain.”
Heru had already pulled out a small notepad, scribbling swiftly in shorthand, “And who is he to her?”
Felzein's voice dropped a register, becoming almost confidential, “Her former lover. Name’s Welly. Odd twist of fate, I met him at the pharmacy that very day. And I have no doubt at all, the man in the video is the same Welly, Melati’s ex.”
He folded his arms, lips pressed into a line, “Melati had been preparing to report him for violence, coercion, and more than a few things that don’t belong in a civilised society. That’s why she left him.”
Heru let out a long, slow breath through his teeth, “A coward. To raise his hand against a woman... Disgusting.”
Felzein’s reply was laced with quiet bitterness, “Indeed. There are men who wield strength like a weapon, simply because they fear being powerless in any other way.”