Trueman Bradley - Aspie Detective Read Online Free

A mental image of the cab driver formed in my mind. I associated this aroma with the cab driver. I recognized the cab driver’s cologne, which smelled like lavender, anise and vanilla.
    Standing behind me was a man wearing a trench coat and a wide-brimmed hat. He had sunglasses on, but I could recognize him easily. He had ten small birthmarks on his right cheek, which formed a pattern similar to the constellation Orion. With my skill at patterns and my talent for memorizing details, I had been able to notice the pattern, and its similarity to the star system Orion, a few moments after having entered the taxicab.
    The likelihood of someone else having the exact same configuration of small birthmarks on their cheek was close to zero. And the likelihood of anyone using the exact same cologne was also very low. I was convinced this man was the cab driver.
    When he saw me looking at him, he walked away briskly. He picked up a nearby newspaper and seemed to be reading it. But every time I turned to look at him, I saw him staring at me.
    “What does he want?” I asked myself.
    He seemed to be trying to disguise his identity, and was following me. I hadn’t expected someone to be following me. It wasn’t on my checklist, and I hadn’t prepared for it. Because it was unexpected, it made me nervous. I took my notebook out of my pocket and added “be followed by a cab driver” to my list of today’s activities. Adding it to my checklist helped, because now it was part of my scheduled activities; now it seemed less unexpected and troubling. But I still didn’t know what to do about this situation. My confusion was making my stomach tense.
    The queue moved forward and soon I was in front of the teller. The teller had a security guard standing behind her, and I thought of an idea. I added “report cab driver following me to the bank security guard” to my checklist.
    “Can I help you, sir?” the teller asked.
    “Yes,” I said. “I have some items on my checklist that require your bank’s services. First, I need to deposit money.”
    I started taking out my rolls of twenty dollar bills. I placed them in a neat line on top of the teller’s desk.
    “You’re depositing all that money?” asked the teller.
    “Yes,” I said. “But wait… I’m missing 5,940 dollars.”
    “I think I might need my manager for this,” she said. “Not many people come in with this much money. Just a moment, sir.”
    The teller walked away and I searched my pockets again. Two of my rolls were missing, totaling 5,940 dollars. They were the only two rolls that were in my side pockets. I had hidden the other rolls inside the lining of my coat.
    “Thieves!” I said. “Someone stole them!”
    I looked at the cab driver. He stood in the same place, peeking at me from behind his newspaper. He had been standing behind me; he was the only person who knew I had so much money in my pockets; he must have taken my money! I hastened to check off “report cab driver following me to the bank security guard” from my checklist and turned around to call for the security guard. But I was interrupted by the appearance of the teller.
    “Sir,” she said, “for a cash deposit this size, we need to call the local police station.”
    “What?” I asked, “Why?”
    “Oh, it’s just what we normally do,” she said. “We have to check it out. Just a formality! You see, if someone deposits a lot of cash, the police think it’s money from drug deals.”
    “They think my money’s from drug deals?!” I asked.
    The thought that local police thought I was a drug dealer terrified me. Being arrested definitely wasn’t on the checklist of things to do today! I scratched out the items “deposit 27,000 dollars” and “report cab driver following me to the bank security guard” from my checklist and stuffed all my money into my coat.
    I decided to cancel all my bank business and go home. I didn’t understand how depositing this money made the police