The Fall

Second Investigation

Chapter V
False Prophecy
I arrive at the construction site. It's dusk, with cold steel casting monstrous shadows, or it's just my imagination. I have a trail to follow. I am here to meet a woman, and I am pulled toward her voice. I always try to tiptoe, a bad habit. I hear a different voice.
'Tell me what you know, or I'll put a whole magazine in you. You will have so many holes that you will be called a colander.' I am at the door and overhear the conversation.
'I don't know anything. I don't know what the fuck is going on,' says a woman. 'Kill the bitch; you see, she's lying like a dog,' says one of the bad guys.
'You have three seconds to start talking ... One ...'
'I don't know anything.' The girl starts to scream.
'Two ...'
'I told you I don't know anything; nobody tells me anything,' she explains. 'Three ... you're done.'
I couldn't let that happen. I open the door by kicking it in, and I shout, 'Police.' They are all surprised and look at me. I have their attention.
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'Shoot the fucker, shoot him.'
I fire a couple of shots when I throw myself aside to avoid extra holes in my body. I run to the door and shoot again. They are dead. Unfortunately, they are not the only ones. Why is that always happens to me? When some shit happens, it has to start with the death of the woman I am trying to save? It's a pattern or prophecy of what was to come later. I check for a pulse, fooling myself into thinking there's hope. I check her pockets and pull out her wallet. Memphis Usman. Such a beautiful woman should not be dead, but usually, these beautiful women are drawn to the evil light of darkness. Like they're pushing themselves into an abyss. If she is my lead, then I'll be at a dead end.
Chapter VI
Dangerous Relationships
Three weeks have passed since my investigation of Hailey. The local and national press have made me a hero. How strange that your failure turns into your success. People remember Hailey and the rest of the girls, and the schools did a joint demonstration that raised issues about violence. There was too much social pressure on "youth openness to experimentation", about how those we trust become our executioners. I was also invited to give a speech. I couldn't be there.
I didn't know what to say. "Dear children, don't be as stupid as the people you follow. Just because someone has a million followers on social media doesn't mean they should be your authority, and just because he tells you what to think and do doesn't mean he knows things. You're confusing terms, and you, dear media, stop making stupid cunts into celebrities who can't achieve anything in life apart from selling their face on a relaxant packet."
That probably wouldn't appeal to anyone, so I'll leave it for Victor. I'm going to head to my office. It's time to get back to work. My stitches still hurt from those bullets, especially when the weather is about to change. Thank God my guardian angel supplies me with sweets to help relieve at least this kind of pain.
I open the office door, enter, and look for a moment. Someone has cleaned it for me. My artistic disorder is gone. Probably Marie-Ann was here. What has she done? Damn...Woman, I can't find anything now. I walk around and arrange things the way they were, and it looks like someone has broken in and is looking for something. I sit down in my armchair. It already has creases that are adjusting to my crooked spine. I light a cigarette and open a drawer. There is nothing there. I open the other; empty, just a letter. "Remember, you were supposed to cut down on the drinking. Miss M." Honey, I love it when you take care of me, but you cross the line. No one stands between me and my addiction. I pull out my handy medicine hidden on the inside of my jacket. I open it and wet
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my lips. At least it still tastes good to me. Someone knocks on the door. Before I have time to swallow and answer, she opens the door, comes up to me and kisses me passionately.
'Kiss me like you would miss me.'She says, licking the remains of the whisky from my lips. 'Bridget, what are you doing here?'
'I was in the neighbourhood and thought I would visit you. It's good to remember you before you became a star.'
'Baby, I'm not a celebrity, and you don't hang out in neighbourhoods like this. You don't have to be a detective to know you're lying.'
'Angel, come on. You know you're close to me.'
'I get mixed feelings when you show up. Say what you want, or...'
'Or what? Will you use aggression? Chain me somewhere? Am I supposed to be the vulnerable one? And then you put your hand on my neck. You're going to start choking and kissing?' Saying that, she comes close. Too close. I feel her whispering those words into my ear, caressing it with her tongue, and her hand is on my crotch. I push her gently away to the desk, where she sits down. I try to focus and control myself. But I can't.
'I came here to see you again, Ariel.'Her right leg is on my left chair back. 'I have another case for you to investigate.'Her left leg lands on my right backrest. 'Our independent director is dead. And we need to recover her data from her laptop and find out who's behind this.'Saying this, she pulls up her dress. 'You need to help me. This is important to me as well as for my company.' Sweet Bridget ...A true femme fatale. She knows what she wants, and she knows how to get it. So confident, with such a temperament. I have flashing images from the past when we were together. Sweet Jesus, just thinking about what we've been through makes me cramped and out of breath.
'Why me?' I ask myself out loud, unable to take my eyes off what she is doing.
'Because you're the best, and I know you can be discreet. You know what I'm talking about.' She shows me herself even more so that I can know her intentions deeply. I can see that this matter is important to her, but I can also see that she is happy to see me, or has an equatorial microclimate. Like a rainforest on a summer evening.
'Let's talk about money. As you said, I'm the best.'
'Fifty K, nothing more, nothing less. Tomorrow I will come with the advance to you in the evening to your flat.'
Fifty thousand. I'm beginning to wonder if she's so concerned about discretion or if she wants to give me money.
'What was the victim's name? Any information? Anything to help me build this case?'
'Tomorrow, I will come to you. Buy my favourite gin. You'll get everything we know. Amanda Wong. Her name was Amanda Wong.'
It feels strange when I see it. Cold shivers and sweat control my body, and I go crazy. 'Be there at 9 p.m.'
'I will be on time, and what you saw is just an overture to what will happen to you when you are be a good boy.'
'Go now; I need to focus.'
'Hahaha.'She laughs while leaving. She is like that beautiful flower that tempts the insect with its appearance, scent, and whole self. And once you are near or on that flower, it closes andeats its prey. It devours its prey slowly, dissolving in this beauty, giving the flower the strength to grow even
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