Case Closed

• Eighteen •

"So."

"So?"

"Let's go over what we know so far. It helps, sometimes."

"Ee- ok." Picking up a couple of sheets of paper, she started flicking through them, noting down all the key information.

Needless to say, the finished list was not extensive. In fact, it consisted of only four statements.

Justin was most likely killed after leaving the cell. There were no traces of struggling or damage inside the cell.
That much seemed simple, at least.

The doors, windows and perimeter have been checked, and confirmed 96.7% negative for points of damage during entry/exit.
A whole sheet was dedicated to the signatures of the officers who had fulfilled this job. They seemed, as a whole, trustworthy sources. Then again, Lucy's trust had been betrayed so many times, she didn't know what to believe any more.

It wasn't a suicide. His conversations with officers involved reducing his time, as he was the 'model' prisoner.
Was there such thing as a perfect criminal? Yes, Lucy thought, but not in the way this file intends.

There are 3 unlikely suspects.
Much to the Prof's dispute, it was true. None of the suspects caught Lucy's attention, like they often did with other cases. They all just seemed so... normal. Not that normality prevented someone becoming a murderer, in any way. It made them better at hiding it - and too well, it appeared.

Now, however, the next step was obvious. "We need to call in all the suspects. Speak to them in person, see if their statements change."

The Prof started to object, but she cut him off. "No, you don't have to talk to 'im again. I'll do it."

Muttering a string of obscenities under his breath, he stood up and walked to the phone. Three calls later, and two meetings were lined up for that afternoon. The third suspect, Jacob Smiths, had still yet to be found.

They would both speak to Eli, as agreed originally, but Lucy would meet with Charles alone. Despite the fact, the Prof made aware his displeasure by frequently grumbling under his breath, words that Lucy couldn't make out.

For the next two hours, the pair worked in almost-silence on separate cases. As the Jail case was more of a 'personal' endeavour, the Commissioner did not count it as part of their daily work. At around midday, they headed downstairs to take their place in the cafeteria, almost like nothing was any different to before. Like true friends, the others on the table did not question their behaviour, only expressed their relief that the pair were back with them.

Throughout the lunch break, Lucy kept sneaking looks at the Prof sitting next to her. She couldn't tell if his cool, calm demeanour was a facade, or honest. His seemed to laugh a little too loud, and Potty Prof made little-to-no appearance over the hour.

When the bell rang to signal the cafeteria closing time, they got up and trudged back up the stairs to the Mystery Room. With each step, Lucy could feel a weight settling down on them, snuffing out the light, airy atmosphere over lunch. The Prof still gave no signs as to what he was thinking, keeping his eyes fixed on the space ahead of him. When the door of the office was shut behind him, he sank down onto the sofa and muttered, "Charles'll be here in half an hour. Are you ready?"

"Ee, yeah, I think so. Oh, and Eli's cancelled. I'll rearrange." What was there to be ready for? Surely it was no different to any other meeting with suspects she had handled before. It would be fine.

"Remember Lucy," Potty Prof said urgently, "he'll twist everything. He'll lie to you. He'll distract you. Don't let him get away with it. You're- you're smarter than him, Lucy."

She had no idea where this outburst had come from.

"Ok then. Thanks, I guess. Prof?"

"What?"

"Don't worry. I'll deal with him." Tentatively, she placed a hand on his shoulder. He tensed slightly, then sighed and sank back down again.

"I know."

********************************

The room was dark and dimly lit. In the centre stood a metal table, nailed to which was a pot of pens and a few files, and two chairs. A camera in the top corner was set up to record the meeting, and a one way mirror was set in the wall opposite the door. For this interview though, no one sat behind it - on the Prof's request. He was taking this whole thing extremely seriously, as she had known he would.

Waiting outside the room for Charles to arrive was painful. The clock on the wall beside her seemed to tick too loudly, and each five minute chime made her start. He was supposed to have come at four, but at half past she was still standing there.

Without warning, the door burst open and a disheveled looking Charles burst into the room. "Hello," he panted breathlessly.

"Mr Layton," Lucy replied, frowning slightly, "nice to see you again."

"Please, call me Charles." He smoothed down a purple check tie that clashed horrifically with his hair.

"Well Charles, I assume you know why you're here?"

His answer shocked her, "Actually, not really. Would you care to explain?"

"Er- well, following the murder of Justin Lawson, you are to be questioned as a suspect."

"And why would that be?"

"You were- look, let's go inside." She gestured toward the interview room. Bowing his head slightly, Charles stepped through the doorway and took a seat on the opposite side of the desk to Lucy.

"So, Mr Charles Layton, you are being questioned on grounds of suspected murder. You do not 'ave to say anything, but anything you do say could be 'eld against you in court."

Charles smirked, "I rather feel as if this is a one sided interview, Miss Baker. Already got my cell ready?"

"Why would you think that?"

"You and your Prof," he said, "would love to close this case with me behind bars."

"Mr Layton, I can assure you that this is a non-biased questioning, and the Pr- Alfendi will have no part in it."

Leaning back as if he was watching some soap unfold before him, Charles smiled again. "Well, if that's the case, please begin."