Abraham Lexington: The Devil In The Deck

Chapter 2: The Art Of Deduction

Wesley J. Thomas's: pov
January 1st/7:36pm/ Wood Street Police Station

"excuse me!" I called grabbing the bars of the holding cell and bringing my face closer to it, "don't I get a phone call?"

The officers gave me a fleeting contemptuous look and then resumed what they were doing; which it unnerved me at how nonchalant they were about everything. I mean, they could've at least showed some type of care. But instead they didn't, and I sat myself back down and buried my face in my hands.

I mean, yes, I wanted to remain unflappable while in that holding cell, but it were quite hard to; seeing I were then at my nadir and it felt, if I'm to be quite honest, horrible. But I figured It'd be best to just resignation in the situation at hand.

As I sat bemoaning in my own shame, the cell door came sliding open; then a officer walked in with a strange man wearing a heavy black trench coat.

It hung down elegently, and his collar was turned up like the wings of a hovering bat; his eyes were narrowed and his brows were barely noticeable.

And not to mention the odd discolorations on his hands and the unevenness of his fingernails; it all struck my attention so potently that I found myself just staring rudely. Also why were he there, and were they letting me go.

"Who on earth is this?" I asked pointing a curious finger at the tall trench coat wearing man, "and are you letting me have the phone call I requested?"

The trench coat wearing man rolled his eyes with a apathetic huff, before redirecting them back to me sternly.

"What does that matter Sir, I've made your bond." Said he, adjusting his long black collar arrogantly, turning up his nose flippantly "now, don't make a big fuss over this, just get up already."

I gave a breath of protest; who did he think himself to be, my father. I didn't know this man, and he most surely didn't know me; so why were he being so obliging.

It were hard to understand, so I figured it were surely of no good. Though I still stood up, I mean, I had just about had it with that place.

"May I ask who and what you are exactly?" I inquired unequivocally, knowing exactly what I meant.

"My name is Abraham Lexington, and what I am is and should be of no concern to you. So get up and let's go."

"How'd you know where to find me?" I asked following this, Abraham Lexington to his electric moped; and yes, the man who seemed to be so luxuriously mysterious owned and drove an electric scooter. "Wait...this is your transportation, a scooter?"

"Yes, does that bother you?" Asked he, the man named Abraham, as I stood looking upon the motorized scooter cadaverously.

"Well...a little, yes." I answered unsurely looking up at the rather tall man standing before me, "why do you have a scooter? Where is your car?"

"When ever did I say I possessed a car, detective?" Asked he mockingly, impugning my facile question.

"Well..."

"Well...what? Go on, I'm listening." Urged he, phlegmatically, narrowing his eyes.

"Well...I just assumed that, since you were so elegantly adorned...that you most surely owned..."