Case Closed

• Sixteen •

"You!" she growled, grabbing the man's collar again and pushing him back, exactly as the Prof had.

"Lucy, you know him?"

"No. But I'm pretty sure 'e knows me."

"I don't follow."

"I'm sure he can explain," she said, releasing him and stepping back to take him in properly. His auburn-red hair was short but dishevelled, and his glasses had been knocked askew. In the low light of the alleyway, his eyes looked a dark shade of green, but she couldn't tell whether he was angered by the assault.

The Prof glared in the direction of his brother. "Yes, Charles, enlighten me."

"I didn't do it, ok! You're following the wrong person!" he stuttered, almost shaking.

"What?"

"I didn't kill him! I swear."

"This isn't about who you have or haven't killed, Charles, keep up," Potty Prof snapped.

"Calm down."

"Sorry Lucy."

"Lucy?" Charles exclaimed, turning to face her.

"Yes?"

"Oh God..." he groaned, sinking down the wall to place his head in his hands.

"Is there a problem?"

"No- well yes. But- I don't know anymore."

Lucy didn't either, but she didn't want to show them that. "Er, ok. Back to the point. Why 'ave you been following me..?"

The Prof sighed exasperatedly and raked his hands through his hair, oddly distressed. "Why didn't you tell me..." - she wasn't sure if he was talking to her.

Charles looked sheepish. "I... I thought you were someone else."

"Someone else? Who?"

He mumbled a reply so quietly Lucy had to ask him to repeat it. "Hilda Pertinax..."

There was silence between the three of them for what felt like decades. Then, remarkably, the Prof burst out laughing. Lucy joined him seconds later, and in moments they were both completely helpless, having to lean against wheelie bins to stop themselves falling to the floor. It was the first time she had seen the Prof properly laughing in weeks, maybe even months. Out of the blue, a sentence floated into her head, "I was hoping you could make him see sense?" While this sort of thing wasn't what Hilda had been intending, Lucy did feel like she had won a small victory that day.

She snapped back to the present to find that Prof gradually regaining his composure. Charles was still frowning slightly, "What's funny?"

The Prof wheezed, "You... you thought- you thought she was Hilda?" before collapsing into another fit of laughter. Charles turned to Lucy, raising his eyebrows, as if to say, 'is there any sense left here?' She coughed and replied with a shake of the head.

"So what? Mistaken identity," he was getting more defensive as the pair continued laughing.

"Ok, ok. Hilda is our boss, Charles. And the polar opposite of Lucy here." As he turned around to face her, eyes red from laughing, with a smile plastered across his face, her heart stopped for a second. Then it was gone, replaced with Potty's Prof's usual scowl. "Wait a moment, you're telling me that you've been stalking a girl around London for weeks, for no reason at all? What the actual-"

"Steady, Prof. I'm sure there was a reason."

"Actually there was, Pro-"

"SHUT UP."

A hint of a smile played on Charles' lips. "But I am in no way inclined to tell you, Al. So please, let me go back to shopping. I need more milk."

"Milk?!"

"Yes."

"Why would you need milk?"

"To drink. Tea. Cereal. Get the idea?"

Lucy zoned out as the brothers argued about Charles' living arrangements in London. She understood why the Prof had wanted her to interview him now, as it seemed they couldn't get along for any more than a couple of minutes together. After at least ten minutes of them shouting at each other, she finally intervened.

"Look, Prof, it doesn't matter. Come back upstairs, we need to do at least another case today if we want to get paid this month."

"Yes, Prof," Charles sneered, ducking a punch aimed at his head.

"And you, get lost."

"Thank you!" He dodged past Al and sauntered back onto the street, out of their view.

"He's so, ARGH!" Potty Prof yelled, hitting the wall in front of him and kicking at a muddied newspaper. "Why the hell is he even here, I don't want to see him and he doesn't want to see me!" Lucy ignored the rant, and grabbed his arm, heading in the direction of the office.

"Come. On," she said, pulling him back. "We. 'Ave. A. Job. Let's. Go."

"No."

"Stop acting like a kid, Prof. He's just your brother, get over it."

Eyes blazing and red hair firey, he ripped his arm out of her grasp. "Don't talk to me like that!" he roared, before storming off. Lucy walked back to the office alone and got to work on another case. She should have been shocked or worried about the Prof, but really she knew he'd come back eventually, however long that may take.