Case Closed

• Nineteen •

"He said what?" Potty Prof snarled, enraged.

Lucy sat back and yawned, completely unfazed. "'E said 'e was never there. That 'e doesn't even know who Justin was."

"That big-headed ars-"

"Steady on Prof, 'e's obviously lying. We'll just 'ave to speak to the others, maybe get a couple of guards' statements, prove him wrong."

Pacing up and down the room, the Prof growled, "You think that'll stop him?!"

"Stopping 'im doesn't matter."

"Catching him does..."

"You can't accuse 'im already! We 'ave no evidence!" Lucy was barely even shocked.

"He's claiming to know nothing about it! How much more evidence do you need?"

"Prof," Lucy groaned, "Don't do this..."

Turning round, his green eyes burned into her's. "Don't do what?"

"Blame it on your brother because you don't like 'im."

He didn't even deny it. "I hate him."

"Point proven." She stood up and grabbed her green coat from the hook, swinging it over her shoulders and picking up her bag.

"Where are you going so early?"

"'Ome. It's my mum's birthday, I'm taking 'er to dinner."

"Oh," he murmured, all the anger flowing from his body. "Ok. See you tomorrow."

It was only as Lucy was outside on the street that she realised what had happened. The Prof's 'mother' wasn't around anymore. Or so she assumed - he didn't speak of her, not that he did of any of his family, but she didn't feature in his 'story' the other day. Guilt flooded her. She should've asked him to come out with them, or at least said something. Stopping on the pavement, she briefly considered going back to find him. However, her better judgement won over. Mum won't want him there... He'll act weirdly... It'll be too awkward to explain.

So many excuses crossed her mind. They didn't matter. She'd already chosen to leave him, just like he'd done to her the other night.

It would show him how he'd hurt her.

Nevertheless, the ache in her chest grew slightly with each step she took away from the office. So this was guilt in its highest form. Emotions really could mess you up. She imagined a steel wall closing around her, pushing out everything inside her. And the worst thing was, it worked.

***

He held the gun up at shoulder level, pointing it with a calm, steady confidence at her head. His amber eyes glinted and his red hair flashed in the dim, silvery light of the moon. A slight grin played on his face, taunting.

"Please," she cried, "Don't do this."

From that second she could tell his mind was already made up.

"Oh, but Miss Baker, don't you understand?"

"N- no, I don't."

The grin spread. "Well, isn't that a shame..."

Click. Armed and ready to fire.

"Don't, Charles, please."

Her teary eyes bored into his, searching for some kind of sympathy. And like that, his face blurred, changed and she was looking into the face of her friend.
"You know I never liked you really, Lucy?"

"Nooo," she moaned, curling up tighter. "Stop, stop."

Their laughter merged into one deafening, screeching, cacophony of mocking. She couldn't breathe, couldn't see, couldn't move.

Click. Bang!

He was looking her straight in the eyes.

And her whole world exploded.