The Missing Minute

Salim did not sleep that night.

The message was still displayed on his phone screen, although he had read it dozens of times.

"You are next... smile well."

He was not afraid of anonymous messages.

During twelve years in the Criminal Investigation Department, he had received more threats than he could count. Gangs, killers, smugglers... all of them had tried to frighten him at one time or another.

But this message...

was unlike any threat he had ever known.

It did not ask him to back off.

And it did not threaten him with death.

It simply assumed one thing only...

that he would die.

---

At exactly seven in the morning, Salim arrived at the Forensic Medicine Department.

The building was unusually quiet.

The forensic doctor, Dr. Nader, greeted him holding a cup of coffee.

"I didn't expect you to come so quickly."

Salim replied as he took off his coat:

"Have you finished the autopsy?"

Nader sighed.

"That's why I asked you to come."

They headed together to the Autopsy Room.

The body was covered with a white sheet.

Nader took hold of its edge and pulled it back slowly.

The victim's face appeared...

and the smile was still in place.

Despite many hours having passed since death.

Salim said calmly:

"Begin."

Nader opened the file.

"Name: Fuad Mansour."

"Age: forty-two."

"Occupation: accountant at an import company."

"Marital status: single."

He turned the page.

Then he continued:

"No external injuries."

"No fractures."

"No bleeding."

"No traces of poisoning in the preliminary examination."

Salim raised his head.

"And what about the heart?"

"Normal."

"The lungs?"

"Normal."

"The brain?"

"No hemorrhage."

The silence began to grow heavier.

Salim said:

"There must be a cause."

Nader smiled a tired smile.

"I wish that were so."

---

Nader approached a small metal table.

He laid out several photos taken during the autopsy on it.

He pointed to one of them.

"Look here."

Salim stepped closer.

The photo was of the facial muscles.

Nader said:

"Do you know what puzzled me?"

Salim did not answer.

The doctor continued:

"These muscles are tensed with enormous force."

"As if the man had kept smiling for hours before he died."

Salim frowned.

"Is that possible?"

"In theory... yes."

"In practice... no."

"Why?"

"Because the facial muscles would have collapsed from exhaustion."

Silence fell.

Then Nader added in a low voice:

"But they didn't."

---

The doctor's assistant entered carrying an evidence bag.

"Doctor, these are the victim's belongings."

Salim began to examine them.

A wallet.

Keys.

A wristwatch.

A phone.

Then...

a small folded piece of paper.

He opened it carefully.

It was completely white...

except for a single sentence written in elegant black handwriting:

"Do not look when the smile begins."

Salim immediately raised his head.

"Where did you find this?"

The assistant answered:

"It was inside his jacket pocket."

"Did you check for fingerprints?"

"There are no fingerprints at all."

Not even the victim's fingerprints...

were on it.

Salim looked at the paper again.

For the first time...

he felt the case was beginning to shift from a mysterious crime...

to something he did not even know how to describe.

And at that moment...

Dr. Nader's phone rang.

He looked at the screen.

An unknown number.

He smiled sarcastically.

"It seems everyone loves to call about this case."

He pressed the answer button.

"Hello?"

No one heard a sound.

Only...

very slow breathing...

as if someone were standing close to the receiver.

Then the call was suddenly cut off.

Nader looked at Salim and laughed nervously.

"Some idiot."

But Salim did not laugh.

He was staring at the phone's screen...

because for a moment the image of a smile that was not present in the room had been reflected on it.

Salim kept staring at the phone screen for a few seconds.

He quickly raised his head.

There was no one behind Dr. Nader.

The room was fully lit, its doors were closed, and there were only three people inside.

He breathed slowly.

"Just a reflection..." he told himself, but he was not convinced.

He handed the phone back to Nader without comment.

---

After the autopsy was finished, Salim left the hospital and headed to the Criminal Investigation Department.

His office was on the fourth floor, away from the usual noise.

He placed the case file on the table, then wrote on the whiteboard:

"- No signs of violence."

"- No clear cause of death."

"- Fixed smile."

"- Anonymous message."

"- Paper inside the victim's pocket."

"- Surveillance cameras cut out for a minute."

He stepped back.

He stared at the words for a long time.

Every case he had handled had started in chaos, then gradually turned into a clear picture.

But this one...

each new piece of evidence only made the picture more obscure.

There was a knock on the door.

"Come in."

A young man entered carrying a laptop.

It was Youssef, the digital evidence analyst.

He said as he placed the laptop on the desk:

"I found something strange in the building's surveillance cameras."

Salim looked up.

"Sit down."

Youssef opened the recordings.

"I re-examined the minute in which the image disappeared."

"And the result?"

"It wasn't deleted."

Salim frowned.

"What do you mean?"

Youssef took a deep breath.

"The file itself is there... but the minute is empty."

"Empty?"

"It's not a black screen... and it's not corrupted footage."

He pressed several buttons.

Digital waveforms appeared on the screen.

"Look."

He pointed to a timeline.

"Here the minute begins."

Then he pointed to the middle.

"And here..."

Everything disappeared.

No data.

No sound.

No image.

Not even a trace to indicate that the camera had been running.

Salim said slowly:

"As if the minute... never happened."

Youssef nodded.

"Exactly."

Silence fell.

---

The desk phone rang.

Salim answered.

"Criminal Investigation Department."

A woman's weeping voice came through.

"Please... help me."

"Calm down, who are you?"

"My name is Layla."

"What is the problem?"

She hesitated for a few seconds.

Then she said:

"My brother..."

"What about him?"

"Since yesterday... he hasn't stopped smiling."

Salim looked at the board in front of him.

He did not speak.

The woman continued:

"At first I thought he was joking."

"Then?"

"Now... he doesn't speak."

Salim felt his pulse quicken.

"Where are you?"

She gave him the address.

He hung up quickly.

He looked at Youssef.

"Get the car ready."

"Do we have a new case?"

Salim answered as he picked up his coat:

"I don't know..."

Then he whispered to himself:

"...but I don't want to arrive too late."

---

Twenty-five minutes later, the car stopped in front of a small house in a quiet neighborhood.

A woman in her late twenties was waiting at the door.

Her face was pale, and her eyes were red from crying so much.

She ran toward them as soon as they got out.

"Are you the detective?"

"Yes."

She gripped his arm tightly.

"Please... save my brother."

Salim entered the house.

It was quiet in a way that was unsettling.

No sound from a television.

No music.

No conversation.

Only...

the sound of a wall clock ticking steadily.

The woman walked toward the living room.

She stopped at the door.

Then she whispered:

"He's inside..."

Salim took a deep breath.

And pushed the door slowly...

to find a young man in his mid-twenties sitting on the sofa.

His eyes were open.

His back was straight.

And he was smiling...

But this time...

he was still alive.

Salim stopped where he was.

The young man was staring straight at the television, even though the screen was off.

He did not blink.

And he did not turn when everyone entered.

Layla said in a trembling voice:

"His name is Samer... he has been like this since yesterday."

Salim approached with cautious steps.

"Samer."

No response.

"Can you hear me?"

The smile remained fixed on his face, while his eyes were fixed on emptiness.

Salim extended his hand and waved it in front of his eyes.

No response.

Youssef said:

"Is he unconscious?"

Salim answered:

"No... look at his breathing."

Samer's chest was rising and falling slowly, as if he were asleep with his eyes open.

Layla knelt beside him.

"Please, Samer... say something."

She took his hand.

It was strangely cold.

She began to cry.

"This is not my brother... my brother never stays silent."

Salim looked at her calmly.

"Tell me everything from the beginning."

She wiped her tears and said:

"Yesterday he came home from work as usual."

"At what time?"

"Around eight in the evening."

"Was he normal?"

"Completely."

"Then what?"

"He had dinner, and sat watching television."

"Did he go out after that?"

"No."

"Did anyone come to see him?"

"No."

"Did he receive a call?"

She shook her head.

"No."

She was silent for a moment, then added:

"But..."

Salim raised his eyes to her.

"I found him smiling as he looked at his phone."

"Did you see what he was looking at?"

"I couldn't... when I came closer, he locked the screen quickly."

Salim looked at Samer's phone lying on the table.

He put on his gloves and picked it up.

The screen was locked with a fingerprint.

He lifted Samer's finger and placed it on the sensor.

The phone unlocked.

He began to check the apps.

No messages.

No calls.

No emails.

Everything was normal.

But Youssef suddenly said:

"Wait..."

He came closer to the phone.

"Something is missing."

"What?"

"The last time the phone was used was at ten thirteen."

"And that's normal."

"No..."

He pointed to the system log.

"Between ten thirteen... and ten fourteen..."

He stopped.

"There is no data."

Salim looked at him.

"You mean a whole minute?"

Youssef nodded.

"The same minute that disappeared from the building's surveillance cameras."

A heavy silence fell.

Salim felt a shiver run through his body.

Could it just be a coincidence?

He did not believe in coincidences.

He switched off the phone and placed it in an evidence bag.

Then he turned back to Samer.

He noticed something he had not noticed before.

The young man's eyes were moving very slowly.

Not toward them...

But toward the corner of the room.

Salim turned automatically.

The corner was empty.

A white wall.

A small cabinet.

And a wilted plant.

Nothing else.

He looked back at Samer.

His eyes were still fixed on the same spot.

Salim said in a low voice:

"What do you see?"

For the first time...

Samer's lips moved.

His voice came out very weak, almost inaudible.

"He is..."

Layla held her breath.

Everyone leaned in.

"...smiling."

Then his smile widened further.

And he stopped breathing.

Layla screamed as she shook his shoulders.

"Samer! Samer!"

Salim rushed to check his pulse.

Nothing.

The ambulance arrived minutes later, but the doctor needed only moments to pronounce him dead.

Salim stood in the middle of the room while the forensic evidence team photographed the scene.

He looked at the corner of the room one last time.

It was empty...

And yet, he could not shake the feeling that someone had been standing there moments before.

He left the house in silence.

He opened his notebook.

And wrote the first real link between the two victims:

- Both were smiling before death.

- Both had lost a full minute from the recordings.

- Both had looked at an empty corner before dying.

He closed the notebook slowly.

Then he said to himself:

"If this is a crime... then I am not looking for an ordinary killer."

End of Chapter Two.