The Sunflower Killer

Chapter Two

Valentin Locke sighed and buried his head in his arms. Kicking the chair in front of him, he swung his legs like a pendulum, moving back and forth, and back and forth. Students trickled into the classroom one by one, but he scarcely noticed their presence. He furrowed his brow and sighed again. There had been another murder last night, and the victim this time was none other than the school's Chemistry teacher, Mr. Torres. Valentin didn't know much about the middle-aged man who had a head full of ginger hair. He'd only seen him once or twice in the hallways, and maybe a third time at the dining hall. Although their interactions were scarce, Valentin knew that he was very rich, and an apparent womanizer.

He had a generous amount of scandals under his belt—a couple in which the Academy had turned a blind eye to. There were rumours that he had found a mistress who was much younger than he, but those were only speculations. Nothing was confirmed, but Valentin's father had told him that his body was found in an alley off Fifth Avenue. He had a clean slit across his throat and no other external wounds. Mr. Torres was either killed while unconscious, or by someone he knew. Valentin had a suspicion that it was the latter. Of course, it was also a possibility that his wealth had attracted unwanted attention. Or in last night's case, homicide.

Just as he was spiralling deeper into thought, a pile of textbooks thrown at his desk slammed him back into reality. With his ears ringing and heart pounding, Valentin couldn't help but roll his eyes when he came face-to-face with Edward Merriweather.

"How do you do, Locke?" Edward chortled, throwing a mock curtsy his way.

"I think you nearly scared my soul out of my body," he retorted, shaking his head at his friend. "Why do you do this. Every. Single. Morning?"

Edward smiled and feigned innocence. "But Val, it's just so easy! You know, it's kind of like pouring alcohol over the stove. I know I'm not supposed to, but it's just so fun."

Valentin raised an eyebrow. "You poured alcohol over the stovetop for fun?"

"Technically it was for a ... scientific experiment."

"Were you trying to measure the rate of how long it would take to burn your house down?"

They both laughed, and Edward slung his arm lightly around Valentin's shoulders. "I actually have a favour to ask you."

"Oh?"

"It's about Loretta."

Valentin frowned. "Who?"

"Loretta Cha."

"Uh..."

"You know, my childhood friend. Short black hair that's cut to... about here," he motioned towards his jaw. "She looks like a cat, all poised and stuff. I don't think I've ever seen her with a hair out of place."

Edward laughed when he saw Valentin's face of visible confusion. Grabbing his textbooks, he paraded back to his own desk. "Here, I'll introduce you two when she gets back. Etta only transferred to our Literature class yesterday, so she's receiving her workbooks from the Dean right now."

"Why did she switch classes?"

"I suppose she didn't like her chemistry teacher."

"The dead one?"

"Yeah."

There was an awkward pause before Valentin continued. "So you read the newspapers too, huh?"

"Something like that."

"It's a shame that he died so young."

"I guess. He was a prick though."