Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I still own nothing except the plot.

Lower Town

It's testimony to their years of friendship when she doesn't even look up as Fenrir draws near. Serena's crouched near the body, jotting down notes and vaguely raises her hand in what Cloud assumes is some form of greeting. The roads are a mess, mud and litter strewn everywhere after last night's rain and in the midst of everything lays their victim. The man seems to be in his mid-thirties at most, but what strikes Cloud as odd is how, well, clean, he looks. Dressed in an expensive looking suit, Cloud can only assume that the glinting watch on his wrist isn't a cheap knock off. But that's bizarre because what is someone so out of place doing in such an area?

In the years before the Heartless invasion, Wall Market had served to divide Upper Town from its seedier counterpart, Lower Town. In the course of the invasion, the Market itself had been broken down but the attitudes still prevailed. Inhabitants of one district rarely ventured out of their comfort zone.

He crouches near her and asks, "Do we have any idea who he is?"

She nods, finally looking up at him. Cloud winces as he realizes how tired she looks. Strands of blonde hair escape from a messy bun and her glasses do little to mask the dark circles under her eyes. "His wallet was intact, found it in his pocket. It's a bit soggy but there doesn't look like there's any money missing. His name is Victor Giorgio; occupation isn't listed but check out the address. This guy's an inhabitant of Upper Town."

He squints at the license proffered to him, as though it will give him an answer, "This doesn't seem to be a robbery then, does it?"

Shaking her head, she points out a few bruises and remarks, "Everything seems to be consistent with the idea this man was in an accident. I can't be completely certain till I run a few tests on his blood, but it is understandable given the state of the roads last night. I can't tell you much more; the rain's washed away fingerprints and DNA. But there is something you should take a look at."

Pulling up his sleeve, she points at his inner arm, where Cloud can just faintly make out a needle mark. "It was a complete accident, my seeing that. His sleeve rolled back when I was printing him and checking his watch for trace. That puncture wound is fresh and made me look at the other bruises a second time. I could be wrong, but the way the bruises have formed is unusual, inconsistent with what we'd expect. It's almost as though the wounds were inflicted post mortem."

Cloud sucks in his breath, "But that would mean that this wasn't an accident. It is very strange for someone like him to be here. And take a look at the name on the suit. I recognize it, that's an extremely swanky boutique in the Upper Town shopping district. This place doesn't even offer the option of a rental. They demand hard cash. I'll call the office and tell them to put a rush order on the tox sample you send them. Has Reno found anything?"

Reno's a few paces away, combing through the car that was found on the scene. Almost as soon as Cloud asks, he hears Reno's voice calling the pair over. "Got anything Reno?"

"We were pretty lucky; the car's a fairly new model and look at the license plate, it's a hired car. It has an automatic GPS. What a lot of people don't realize is, most new models that have an inbuilt GPS have the software run continuously. You have to manually deactivate the device otherwise it records your movements with a time stamp and maintains a record for a week. The car was rented out in our victim's name which is a bit strange but there were only two places that he visited after renting it. The second was here, where we found the car and I've written down the first for you."

Noting the hint of distaste that flavors Reno's voice, Cloud figures that it must be in Upper Town. Reno's from Sector 4, part of the slums and he holds a deep seated grudge against the wealthier inhabitants of the city. His anger stems from a belief that much of the relief and funds his neighborhood desperately needed never reached and were squandered away.

"It's an art gallery," he notes, "I think I've heard of this place at least vaguely. Pretty close to the boutique where Victor got his suit from."

Folding the paper, he stuffs it in his back pocket. "Alright, I'm going to head down there and see what I can find. Reno, can you keep processing the car and see if there's anything we can use? Serena, wait until Shera comes to take the body and get that sample of blood analyzed. Call me if you need anything alright?"

He sighs as he starts Fenrir, they're going to be in trouble if this ends up being a wild goose chase. Since no one had reported Victor missing the City had asked them to perform a standard printing procedure. Printing was a new method that the city had adopted in light of the increase in crime rates after the invasion. Victims' fingerprints were recorded and maintained along with details of the crime. If and when the family or friends came calling, then the case would be reopened. But Cloud had joined the force to make things better, there had to be somebody out there who cared about Victor, and he was determined to get to the bottom of this mystery.

Upper Town-The Galleria

He was right, the address that Reno had shown him did look familiar; it was the largest art gallery in Upper Town. As part of the Restoration project, the Galleria only charged entry fees for those patrons who could afford it. The proceeds went towards the youth of Lower Town, with the idea that they could channel their interests into something more productive. Sephiroth had brought him here once, while they were still dating, for the opening. Cloud had clutched onto his glass of champagne ('the correct term was flute, a voice hissed unhelpfully in his mind') and smiled at people he had never heard of.

Shaking his head to dispel the less than pleasant thoughts, he jogs up the stairs and idly wonders how he's going to find out why their victim had come here yesterday. But as he enters, he finds that won't be a problem. A large banner hanging near the entrance proclaims the name of the latest exhibition, "A Memory of Spring- by V. Giorgio".

Fascinated, Cloud wanders around looking at a few of the paintings. The man is talented he admits, there's emotion and depth that seeps out of every piece.

"The exhibit isn't open to the public right now, if you'd like to view the paintings; we're open after five in the evening."

Whirling around he's met by a stern looking woman in a crisp grey business suit. Her black hair is pulled back into a sleek bun and her arms are crossed as she glares at Cloud. He wants to fidget under her less than pleasant gaze but instead steels himself and pulls out his badge from his back pocket. "My name is Cloud Strife ma'am. I'm with the Traverse Town PD. I'm here about Victor Giorgio."

For a second, her eyebrows raise and she ushers him into a secluded room. "What exactly do you want?" Cloud's a little irked and he asks, "I'm sorry. I didn't get your name?"

"My name is Isabella, Isabella Giorgio. I'm Victor's wife." Cloud doesn't miss the use of the present tense.

To her credit, Isabella is extremely composed when Cloud informs her about Victor, almost too composed. But what further piques his curiosity is her immediate response. Isabella is a successful lawyer and she quietly but firmly replies that she has an alibi for the time of the murder. She was working with clients regarding an upcoming case, she'd had dinner with them and then driven down to the bistro near their apartment where she'd spent the night drinking strong coffee and poring over legal papers. "Furthermore, Mr. Strife, I'd like to remind you that you require a warrant to search my premises. If there's nothing else…"

"Actually, I do have one more question. I noticed that quite a few of the paintings have a piano in them and one has a young man standing near the piano. Do you have any idea who that might be?" Isabella merely shrugs, stating that she has no idea for the most part who and what her husband paints. She excuses herself and almost crashes into a young, cheerful looking man. Pulling a hand through his dark locks, the man exhales before extending his hand in greeting to Cloud.

"Good morning, my name is Micheal Arvigne, I deal with event management in the Galleria. It's a pleasure to meet you." His eyes mist over however when Cloud fills him in. "That's just terrible," he remarks, "Victor was one of the most amazing people I've ever had the chance to meet. Talented and dedicated."

"You wouldn't happen to know who was in the paintings would you?" Micheal looks embarrassed, "Er…well, by all rights I shouldn't know this, but I overheard a conversation the other day. His name is Spencer. He's a professor at one of the colleges that Victor taught art at. They were... well I believe they were pursuing a relationship. At least, I think they were, Victor's art had become much more inspired off late and he said he'd found a muse."

Leaving the Galleria, Cloud pulls out his phone. He's got missed calls from Serena and Reno. He tucks the piece of paper with the name of the university into his wallet, next to the scrap of paper Reno had handed him this morning and dials Serena's number. Surprisingly, it's Reno that answers.

"Finished processing the car and you'll never believe what I found. So, first of all, other than a few scratches there's absolutely nothing to suggest impact with the body. I know it was raining but fresh water degrades material slower than salt water and there isn't even a trace of blood. None of the bruises on the victim's body match the part of the car with scratches either, which is pretty strange if you ask me."

"I swept the interior pretty thoroughly and again, there's no blood. Absolutely none. But, I did manage to pull some hair samples off the front passenger seat, and they're not the victim's. There were a few fingerprints in the car as well, but none match anything in our database. I managed to pop open the glove box and that's when I hit the jackpot. There was a bottle of Bourbon, really expensive, not something that you'd be drinking unless it was a special event. And…hey…OW!"

Cloud grinned as he heard the phone being wrestled away from the red haired man.

"Finally," Serena sighed on the other end.

"The tox screen came back, his alcohol levels are slightly above the permissible limit, but given the bottle of Bourbon I'd hardly say that's news. For the most part there was nothing else in his tox screen. A few strange chemicals that we linked back to eye drops for allergies. What was a little bizarre was an unusually high level of certain ions in his bloodstream, particularly potassium and bromide."

"Alright, I don't get it; those are fairly common ions, why should we be bothered about this?"

"Because Cloud, potassium bromide is used as a powerful relaxant in seizure medication. Its dosage is strictly regulated and the amount I found in Victor's body is well over the amount needed. He would have been knocked out cold. Which brings me to my final discovery. Victor's death… well technically, it's death by drowning."

"What?" he splutters because that is not what he expected to hear. He can practically hear Serena rubbing her temples tiredly. "I know it sounds preposterous, but because of the relaxant, Victor inhaled so much water from the rain that he drowned. Reno and I are headed back to the crime scene, we're hoping we can find what was used to inject him. It's a long shot but since the chemicals are fast acting, we might get something."

He needs to head back and get a warrant to collect samples from Isabella, not to mention finding and interrogating Spencer. But as he's leaving, he catches a few kids arguing loudly outside the building. It's not long before one shoves the other and before he knows it, it's a full out brawl. Groaning, he along with a few bystanders break up the mob and Cloud threatens them with a night in jail. They disperse pretty quickly after that.

Glancing down at his shirt, he curses. It's stained with blood from one of the punks he'd been holding back. Although he's received confirmation that his warrants have been approved it's too late to do anything. Reno's messaged him that they've found a needle in a dumpster nearby and that they'll process it in the morning. He tells Cloud to head home and get a good night's sleep.

Leon's Apartment

Cloud's not sure why he does it, but the door he finds himself knocking on isn't his. It's his neighbor Leon's.

Cloud's face heats up in embarrassment when Leon opens it; it's evident that Leon was turning in for the night, he's wearing a pair of drawstring pants and a loose top, his messy brown hair is tied up and a pair of reading glasses rest on his face. Before Cloud can stutter out an apology and run, Leon calls him in.

Later, as he's seated at the table digging into a bowl of stew that Leon had heated up for him, he talks about the case. He can't go into details, but he likes to talk to Leon, to complain about the people in Upper Town and their attitude. Leon is quiet and pensive, he says what needs to be said and Cloud secretly loves how attentive the man is. He doesn't expect the next question out of Leon's mouth though.

"You seem relatively familiar with Upper Town. Did you live there?"

Cloud flinches, he should have expected that. Looking away, he mutters, "No, I never lived there. Some of my cases take me there you know? And places tend to stick in my memory; they have to for me to be any good at my job."

That's at least part of the truth. He knows Leon doesn't believe him entirely but what's he supposed to say? 'Oh, yes. My ex-boyfriend lived in Upper Town and I was a love struck fool who visited him there and hated every minute of it? Of course not all the residents are cruel but the majority of the people I met made me want to crawl under a rock and hide.'

He can't, of course, say that, because Leon doesn't know about Sephiroth and Cloud is unsure whether that's an aspect of his past he ever wants to revisit.

They end up watching an old movie on TV later, comedy since neither is in the mood for action. Somehow, Leon's arm ends up round Cloud's shoulder, the warmth from it seeping through his shirt.

That's right…his shirt.

He apologizes to Leon about the blood and swears he'll get it dry cleaned as soon as he can. Almost imperceptibly the arm around his shoulders tightens and the atmosphere seems to grow icy.

"That's alright Cloud," Leon remarks, his grey eyes hard like flint, "I don't mind a little blood."

Author's Note

It's been awhile since I last updated but real life got in the way. I hope to update much more frequently for some time. Feedback is highly appreciated!