Sentiment Is A Chemical Defect

Chapter 7

Eron and I stood behind one way glass. We could see the scruffy teenager behind it but he couldn't see us.

They boy wore a grubby, grey hoodie with his hood over his head, ridiculously baggy jeans which he kept pulled down just below his hips, revealing his Superman underwear and Nike trainers.

I looked at the boy in disgust, "Does he think that's cool?" I asked.

Eron looked at me and said seriously, "Do you not approve? I was going to follow the trend."

We both burst into laughter.

"We have to be professional!" I told him.

"Yes, we look very professional wearing our school uniforms," Eron said sarcastically.

"The least we can to is not act like school children then."

Lestrade walk into the room and nodded at us, looking defeated. He held his phone in his hand. Clearly, he had just been arguing with Sherlock about letting us interview the kid who was caught spray-painting the killers calling card on CCTV.

The man led us through to the room where the boy was. Before we entered, he paused at the door and told s he'd be watching from the other side of the glass.

When we entered the room, the boy looked confused.

"I don't think you're allowed in here," he laughed.

Eron and I exchanged looks.

"Go on, kids. Run along. You don't want to anger me. I'm a big tough criminal," he boasted.

"So, these allegations about you, they're true?" I questioned with a raise of my eyebrows.

He nodded proudly.

"Look Eron, this is the guy who murdered four innocent people," the teenager's grin dissolved into panic, "How long can you get for homicide?"

"Life," Eron replied.

"Well, that was quick. I guess this interrogation is over. I'll call Lestrade," I turned my back on the boy and reached for the handle.

"Wait!" the boy gasped, "I didn't do that!"

"Then, please cooperate with us," Eron told him, "Then, we won't make assumptions." 

"So, what? You're going to play good cop, bad cop with me?" the teenager scoffed, "You're just kids!"

Eron flashed him a devilish grin, "We're both your worst nightmare."

"Why did you paint that symbol on the wall?" I asked him.

"I thought it looked cool," he shrugged.

"So, you thought you'd show your 'coolness' to the whole of London?" Eron chipped in.

I bit back my laughter. I wasn't sure if he was referring to the tag or the teenage flashing his boxers. From the glance and the smirk Eron gave me, it was the latter.

The teenager nodded quickly.

"It's bad to lie..." I warned.

"Who told you to paint it?" Eron inquired.

"N-no one."

Eron slammed his hand down on the table in front of the teenager, startling both the boy and myself and repeated through gritted teeth, "Who hired you to paint it?"

"I don't know! I swear!" the boy cried.

I raised my eyebrows at Eron. Partially because of his actions and partially because this guy was about 19 and he was cowering away from a pair of 15 year olds.

"How were you hired?"

"This guy come up to me and said he'd pay me if I did it," the boy explained.

"What did he look like?"

"I- I can't remember..."

"Try," Eron growled.

I shot him a glare to tell him to shut up. He wasn't helping things.

"What do you remember. Even the smallest detail will help," I told the boy.

"He... wore a hoodie so, I couldn't see his hair. He was about 30-odd?"

"Is that all you remember?" I asked.

He nodded, looking down at the floor sadly.

"How much did he pay you?" Eron interjected.

"I haven't got the money yet..."

"But, how much?" he pressed, "How much did you agree on?"

The boy looked confused, "We didn't agree on anything..."

Eron exhaled sharply and muttered something about some people being impossibly idiotic. I rolled my eyes at him though, he was right. Why would you make a deal without naming a price?

"Well..." I said, running out of questions. I threw Eron a desperate look. There had to be something we missed...

Eron just shrugged in response. We were both stumped.

I glanced at the glass separating us from Lestrade and nervously chewed on my lower lip.

"Are you sure you can't remember anything else?" I asked him again.

"Yup."

I sat down on the chair which had been tucked under the table tidily. "Talk me through what happened?" I ordered.

"What do you mean?"

"When that man hired you. Did he find you? Did you find him?"

"Well, he called me first and told me to meet him-" the boy began.

"Where?" I interrupted.

"On the same lane the police caught me tagging..."

"When?" I interrogated.

"I dunno," he shrugged, "Two weeks ago?"

"We need an exact date you met him," I told him.

"I can't remember..."

"So, some point two weeks ago," I repeated. The boy nodded.

I grinned to myself as Eron and I left Scotland Yard. Lestrade had rushed off to get people to go through all the CCTV from the two weeks before.

"Proud of yourself, eh?" Eron asked. I wasn't sure if he meant it angrily or he was just making general conversation.

"Do I detect a hint of bitterness?" I teased.

"Of course not," he responded gruffly.

"Not even a little bit?" I nudged him gently with my elbow. Eron said nothing.

Suddenly, Eron gently pushed me up against the nearest wall. His hands were placed either side of my head. I looked up at him. Why did he always have to do this?

"You really baffle me sometimes," he told me softly.

I laughed, "I baffle you?"

I put my hands on his chest to push him away but, unlike usual, he didn't move away. He pushed his feet into the concrete and stayed put.

"Personal space?" I tried.

He scanned my face with his ocean-like eyes. After a long moment, he stepped away and shoved his hands in his pockets.

"We're both baffling," he eventually told me before striding away home.

I was left to watch him disappear into the distance then turn the corner. He didn't look back once.

That boy...