The Renegade Chemist

Chapter He - End of Line

Raiden probably felt the man's presence before seeing him. The waves of sorrow and depression that seemed to fill the room only amplified it. He was a rather scrawny man, with iron-rimmed circular glasses and an expression which can only be matched with that of a student right before the Maths exam.

As soon as Raiden entered the room, he got up from the old-age wooden chair and rushed up to Raiden, his withered hands, that had probably bled a hundred times in his time of labor, grasping those of Raiden's.

"Please, only you can help me! Please!"

His voice reminded that of a lonely wind blowing down the sand dunes.

Raiden felt sorry for the man almost instantly but he needed to know more. Or rather, he wanted to know more. "Sir, please take a seat," he said as he sat down.

"Tell me, sir, what exactly is it that you want my help for?"

"I need your help to avenge my brother. He died in a car accident a few days ago. Or maybe it was yesterday. But I swear, it was no accident! It was murder! MURDER!" The man spoke as he nervously fumbled with his watch.

"Do you know why he was murdered?"

"No, my brother had no enemies. Not that I know of, at least."

"Well ok, sir. Do you suspect anyone for the murder?"

"Suspect? No, I know who it was for sure. It was Mr Gongard, the self-proclaimed ruler of this district!"

"How can you be so sure about that? Did you witness your brother's murder or something?"

"No but I know someone who does! Just one of those unfortunate people whose eyes had to suffer the miserable fate of taking in the sight of such a cold-blooded sin. In fact, he is waiting here at the lobby." The man donned a weak smile at the thought that he had at least the basic privilege of a witness, the same way the kid aforementioned would at the thought that he at least passed the math exam.

"Well before, I call him up, just a few mandatory details I would require. Your name sir?"

"James Black"

"And that of the deceased. I mean, your brother? Sorry."

"No, it's ok. Guess, I am going to have to deal with the truth after all. William, by the way. His name is William." James replied, small pools of salty water lining his eyes, threatening to overflow down his cheeks.

"But...uhm....how much will be fee? For the arguing and all?," James continued.

It was right at this moment that Claire, who had been eavesdropping on the whole conversation, popped her head through the doorway. "Well it better be worth more than a fifty grand at least. We denied a client who offered us more than double of that just to help you," she chirped in. After all, as beautiful as her exterior may potray her, she only ever had money on her mind. (What up! Sam Smith Reference!)

"Claire, you have no business here." Raiden chided her before turning to James and saying," Just about three grand, sir."

James' hate for Claire could be seen momentarily on his face, like graffitti splashed across a wall, before he spoke, again in a gentle tone to Raiden, "and for this session, sir?"

Again, Claire poked her nose in the wrong flower. "At least one grand for that! The last client offered four grand!" 

Raiden felt that he had had enough of this greedy child's nonsense. He banged his fist on the table and shouted, fuming with so much rage, even a bull in front of a red flag was no match for it, "CLAIRE! GET OUT. RIGHT NOW. AND GO FETCH THE WITNESS!"