SHOT IN THE DARK
Chapter One.
Hilda Pertinax watched Alfendi from underneath her long lashes. The red-haired detective was once more berating a suspect, sticking a long finger in the poor man's nose. Slightly pudgy, balding John Titor was a suspect in the Lockwood murder case, and Alfendi, with his usual arrogance, had announced he was 99.3 % certain Titor was the culprit.
In theory, Hilda was assisting Alfendi on cracking the brutal murder case. In reality, she was relaxing in her chair, sipping tea, and watching Alfendi tear Titor apart. She had wondered, idly, if she should join in on the "interrogation", but she had long since learned that Alfendi was not one to welcome what he deemed "amateurish input", and so she remained silent.
"…And you thought you could get away with it, didn't you?!" snarled Alfendi, as sweat visibly poured off Titor's broad brow. "Hah! Brilliant though your plan may have been, elegant as its execution was, there can be no hiding your guilt from me! Come now, confess! It was you—"
A cheery trill cut suddenly cut through the air, interrupting Alfendi mid-stride. "What the hell is that sound?!" He shouted, whirling on Hilda savagely. She pulled her pink mobile out of her pocket, and inspected it casually.
"Oh, it's Lawson, so just hold on a minute, Alfendi dear," Hilda flipped her phone open, and pressed it to her ear. "Hello, Detective Pertinax speaking. What is it, Lawson? We're just about to wrap up here… Really? Oh, that changes everything…You're sure? Hmmm… Well, Alfendi won't be happy, that's for sure. Alright. Toodle-oo."
"Did you really have to take that call?" asked Alfendi once she hung up, glaring at her with his odd yellow eyes.
"Yes, in fact, I did. Now, come on, I have something important to tell you…in private," she added, glancing at the still-sweating Titor.
After a few snarls and eye-rollings, Alfendi finally consented, and the two stepped out of the interrogation room.
"He didn't do it," announced Hilda, the moment the door closed behind them.
Alfendi only scoffed. "Oh, the blindness of you dimwitted idiots! Obviously—"
"No. Titor didn't do it. That was Lawson on the phone back there, and they just found a jigsaw piece at the scene of the crime. The Jigsaw Killer has struck again."
For a moment, Alfendi seemed lost in thought, his shaggy red hair falling over his eyes. But then he suddenly looked up, and leaned over to kiss Hilda on the cheek.
"Hah! Struck again, has he? Well, we're sure to catch him now, the evil genius! Oh the skill in his crimes…"
With that, Alfendi rushed off, to doubt to re-inspect the crime scene, leaving Hilda with a hand musingly brushing her cheek. She had her misgivings about Alfendi, and sometimes she wondered if this…association with him needed to end before something bad happened. But there was something so intoxicating about the pure energy that radiated from him, she simply couldn't bring herself to do so. Wondering where it would all end, Hilda finally followed after Alfendi, completely forgetting about poor Titor, who remained sitting nervously in the interrogation room.
Rich and eccentric Anthony Lockwood had been found dead in his ghastly mauve living room a day-and-a-half ago, laying in a pool of blood that had been swirled out in a spiral pattern. In his red bathrobe, surrounded by crimson petals of blood, Lockwood had resembled a grisly hothouse flower.
"Didn't see the puzzle piece at first because of the bloody awful mess," Lawson explained, in his usual gruff manner. He was standing next to Hilda, beefy forearms crossed, staring at the stain where the body had been. "It wasn't until after we moved the body that we saw it—and it was all soaked with blood."
Hilda shuddered delicately. She had been on the team that first inspected Lockwood's corpse, and the amount of blood had been truly staggering. Of course, the exsanguination of the millionaire had fascinated Alfendi, and had caused his first suspicion that the butcher Lockwood frequently purchased his meats from had been the one to kill him.
But Alfendi did not really seem bothered by the fact that he had been wrong. In fact, if anything, his ghoulish excitement had only increased when the Jigsaw Killer became involved. Now he straightened up from inspecting the bloodstain, and loped over to Lawson and Hilda, his eyes ablaze.
"Of course, my immediate conclusion is that this isn't the Jigsaw Killer, because the m.o. is completely different, but the brilliant thing about our serial killer is that he has no predictable m.o., which is why—"
"Hold up," interrupted Lawson, pulling his mobile out of his pocket, and holding it up to his ear. "I have to take this call."
Lawson spun around and lumbered off to the other side of the room to have the conversation, while Alfendi stared at him suspiciously.
"Did you hear his mobile go off? Because I didn't," he muttered in Hilda's ear. She just rolled her eyes.
"He probably has it on silence mode," Hilda whispered back, and watched as Lawson's normally grumpy expression changed suddenly. He hung up, and walked back over to the two detectives, face serious—well, more serious than it had been.
"They know where the Jigsaw Killer is."
"What?!" Alfendi cried eagerly, grabbing Lawson by the lapels of his blue jacket. "Where is he?! Tell me NOW!"
"I…Forbodium Mansion… say, where in the bloody blazes d'you think you're going?!" stuttered Lawson, taken aback as Alfendi strode out of the room.
"I should think it would be obvious," Alfendi muttered, and slammed the door behind him.
Hilda sighed as she watched him rushed away. Why did it feel like she was always watching Alfendi leave? She couldn't keep running after him. Perhaps Alfendi he did blaze like a wildfire, but she would only get burnt if she continued to dance around the edges of the flames.
Lawson, however, looked rather peeved. "Don't you think we should head out after him? He's probably gone to confront the Jigsaw Killer. The Commissioner won't be happy if Layton goes out there alone, and you know it."
"Yes, yes, I know it," Hilda nodded, straightening her coat. "We'd better go before the poor darling makes a mess of the whole thing." She sashayed out of the bloody room, secretly pleased to be leaving it behind. Lawson followed rather more slowly, dark eyes scanning the murder scene one last time. As he left, a tiny smile spread across his face, but only for a brief moment.
A/N: If any of you have read/are reading my other stories, yes, I apologize for not updating. But honestly, meh, I wasn't feeling inspiration. This story, however, I wanted to write, so I am. This will be more than a one-shot, but I'm not sure for now how much longer it will be. It all depends, really. Anyway, I have never written a Mystery Room story before, having only recently become obsessed with it, so please tell me what you think! Incidentally, if there was any confusion, this story takes place during those events gone over in the final case of Mystery Room, so Lucy Baker is not yet a character. She may be at some point, though, in the future.