Chapter 13: A Mess of a Marriage
"You think I'm the one taking the bottles!" exclaimed the beige blonde girl, slamming her hands on the table as she sat in the interrogation room. It had been years since she was in one and it brought her back to her awful childhood, always in trouble, always angry, always scared and alone. Ivan had changed that and she would only do things that would make him happy.
Arthur noticed how fragile the girl was, even though her angry demeanour suggested otherwise. He had seen this before, adults with a bad past were always fragile - he knew that better than anyone.
"Your brother told me in his office that he never told his staff about the missing bottles," said Arthur, leaning back in his chair across from the girl.
Arthur had already spoke to Ivan and found out that he actually had told his sister, Natallia, of the missing stock. However, Arthur had to make sure she wasn't behind it.
"I'm not his staff!" she almost yelled. "I own part of the store too. Why would I steal from what was already part mine."
Arthur narrowed her eyes at her, a look she quickly dismissed with the folding of her arms. "You're not involved with taking these bottles?"
"I haven't taken any bottles!" she was growing more and more agitated.
Arthur started at her one last time before standing up and walking towards the door. He yanked it open and through the door Natallia could see her older brother nursing a cardboard cup of coffee.
"You're free to go now." Arthur jerked his head towards the open door.
Natallia didn't say a word as she scurried out the door and towards her brother. Arthur watched as Natallia fawned over her older brother which such passion, it was borderline obsessive. In fact, Ivan was trying hard to keep his distance hoping she would soon quiet down.
As the two siblings spoke Arthur showed them out the building. Just as Arthur waved the two goodbye as they walked down the small steps Toris ran towards the building but stopped in his tracks. Fear and horror made his eyes grow wide. Ivan walked towards him and smiled warmly, which only seemed to make Toris more anxious, while Natallia gave him a cold stare.
"Evening," Toris said quickly, before racing to Arthur who was still holding the door open, watching with a sick sense of delight.
"Do you know them?" Arthur asked giggling slightly.
"The brother is nutty and the sister…well she's batshit insane." There was a strange pang in Toris' voice when he spoke about Natallia, almost as if he was lying.
"I read her file. She stabbed you?" asked Arthur, as the two went back into the office.
"Yup…although it was my fault really," he said, rubbing his neck.
Arthur raised an eyebrow, while the two of them headed into the lounge. "How was it your fault. I thought you were investigating her brother? Part of the Russian mafia or something?"
"That's what the report says but it was just one of these really racist officers here that made the report," Toris said.
"Hate 'commies'?"
"Yup."
Arthur pushed some coins into a cold drinks machine, an ice cold bottle of water dropped into the slot and Arthur grabbed it. "So then why did she stab you?"
"I…I…" Toris sighed. "I was flirting with her."
Arthur was taken aback. "Flirting? But you were married!"
"I was only engaged then and we had a massive fight over the wedding, I needed to blow off steam and I picked the wrong way to do it." Toris rolled his shoulders.
"So she didn't take too kindly to that?" asked Arthur, as the two walked out of the lounge.
Toris shook his head. "I actually have had some close ties to that family. Much to my dismay."
"Such as?" Arthur opened the water bottle.
"They gave me a job when I was a teenager, big mistake. I don't really want to talk about it," Toris fanned his hand.
Arthur nodded and dropped the subject, wanting to respect his partners privacy. The two were just about to walk into their office when a out of breath Cheryl came running towards them.
"Mr. Kirkland, Mr. Laurinaitis!" she breathed, her bun in a mess and sweat dripping down her cheek. "We just received a phone call."
"And?" Arthur said quickly.
"Down by main street, another bodies just turned up!"
Francis made his way home after spending most of the evening with his ex-husbands partner. It was very strange telling Toris about the fact he was going to become a father again. Toris didn't react in the way Francis thought he would, instead he responded with a calm look and some sound advice: 'don't tell Arthur.'
Of course, at first, Francis thought his opinion was complete ludicrous, he had to tell Arthur, he had a right to know. However, Toris explained that telling Arthur right now could cause him to drink even heavier than he already was. It could cause Arthur into a void of booze and loneliness.
Francis thought of the consequences if he told Arthur, while his wounds were still fresh. Perhaps Toris was right, telling Arthur of the pregnancy could kill him. Just finding out about Francis' one night stand almost did.
The night of the reveal played in Francis' mind as he lay in his bed.
Francis remembered it being a Friday, him and Arthur had an explosive yelling match that day, it was so severe that Arthur sent to twins to go stay with Kiku and his sister. They were yelling, once again, about how much time Arthur was spending at the office. All day and night Arthur would solve cases and get his paperwork done, a choice which left little time for his sons or husband.
Once the twins were dropped off at Kiku's and Arthur at work, Francis drove to an out of town bar where he first laid eyes on Annabel. She was sweet, kind and knew just how to make Francis feel better.
A lot of wine and flirting later Francis awoke the next morning to see Annabel beside him, in the bed he once shared with Arthur. Seconds after waking up he seen Arthur standing by the door, a look of horror and pure sorrow plastered to his face.
Francis didn't remember Annabel leaving, but she did somehow.
The once married couple weren't able to pick up the twins, there just wasn't an opportunity. They yelled, cursed, threw things - both at each other and out the window. The house was a complete mess by nightfall as was their marriage.
Arthur sat by the dining table, his elbow leaning on the mahogany wood while his other arm was draped on the back of the chair. His hand was pressed to his forehead, trying to push out the image he had seen that morning. Francis wandered around in the same room, cleaning up the broken pieces of glass, pottery and photo frames.
It was then Arthur realised their marriage was over. He knew that deep down, with time, he could forgive Francis for cheating, but despite that he knew the two weren't happy in the marriage. He questioned if they ever were. When they first met they hated each other, fighting in some pub was how the two met.
The only reason they started dating was because the two loved how it felt to be between the sheets together. It was passionate, fiery, the best times the two ever had were in the bedroom. When they got married it was because the two were so drunk and suddenly found themselves in front of a Elvis impersonator in Vegas. Eventually the two just grew accustomed to each other. They played house for a while, just the two of them in a small apartment. Sometimes Arthur genuinely felt strange emotions for Francis, but never would he express them through words. Saying 'I love you' just wasn't their style.
At times they were happy, the two had injokes, shared things they had never told anyone else and constantly they were together. They still argued over everything and anything but it was just how they were. Arguing was their type of foreplay.
As soon as the twins made an appearance they tried their hardest to stop their childish bickering. They acted like model fathers, school runs, PTA meetings, bake sales, family vacations, they did all of it.
That was when the two were at their happiest; when they were with the twins. Francis even once made an attempt to say I love you to Arthur as they watched their suns play on a trip to the beach. However, the words just couldn't make it out of his lips. He got suck somewhere around 'I'.
All the painful and happy memories of his married flooded through Francis mind as the night ticked on. He grabbed a pillow and pushed it on his face. He searched in the depths of his mind for just one memory, one memory that didn't involve the twins to prove his marriage wasn't a total waste. Looking at the empty side of his bed, he found it.
Arthur always had nightmares, which got worse when he became a detective, but before then Arthur thrashed at night screaming about something. Francis never found out what Arthur really dreamed about but whatever it was, it was enough to jolt Arthur up right.
Before Francis, once Arthur awoke from those dreams he was up, not able to return to sleep until the next night. When Francis showed up, he'd sooth Arthur by speaking in French the most random things to him.
The two men were happy just after Arthur's night terrors, as they clutched onto each other, as fearing if either of them let go they'd lose the other forever.
Which meant the one night Francis was holding another was the day he truly lost Arthur forever.
Francis felt sick as he stared up at the ceiling. Hating that he admitted it to himself, he missed Arthur. He missed listening out for his soft breathing during the night and moving closer to the Brit whenever his breathing changed, signalling the start of a night terror.
He hated how, once again, he couldn't get Arthur out of his mind.
The crime scene was quiet, which Arthur was more than thankful for. Once again, the victum was another girl, the oldest one so far. She was twenty-seven, according to her ID, and went by the name of Samantha Bells, her name burned into Arthur's head. He couldn't help but feel somewhat responsible for her death, if only he had gotten some more evidence, tried a little harder, he could have saved her. Now Samantha lay in a ditch, her body preserved by alcohol, seventeen stab wounds around her body, a killing gash to her neck and a missing body part.
"He took the ears this time," said a stationed police officer. "All this for a pair of ears."
Arthur stared at the body. "This doesn't make sense. First eyes, then hands, now ears? What is he doing with them?" He looked at Toris.
"Black market? People are always buying body parts there," Toris suggested.
Arthur shook his head. "Sellers normally keep their victims alive. This guy doesn't." Arthur kneeled down and looked at Samantha. "Usually, cutting the neck would mean our killer wanted the victim to die quickly and painlessly."
"But why so many stab wounds afterwards?" asked the police officer.
"I don't know, but the number seventeen must mean…something!" Arthur questioned.
The officer gave a slight snicker. "Seventeen's my lucky number," he said.
"Then maybe you're our killer," joked Arthur, standing up and surveying the scene. "And why does he just dump them in back alleys?"
"Maybe he wants to feel detached?" said Toris, keeping his eyes away from the body. Arthur seen how strangely these violent murdered bodies were making Toris nervous.
"Maybe…won't really know unless we ask him."
"Mr. Kirkland! Mr. Kirkland!" rang an all to familiar voice.
Arthur groaned loudly and marched to the police tape. On the other side stood the Hungarian journalist from before, her pen and paper in hand.
"Can I ask you some quick questions?" she said quickly, jotting a few things down.
"Ma'am you need to leave," said Arthur sternly. "Now."
She acted as if she didn't hear him. "We know this killer takes body parts. Which part has he taken this time?"
"Ma'am stop with the questions-"
"Do you have any leads as to why the killer is taking these body parts?"
"I won't ask you again, ma'am, lea-"
"Also why is this killer obsessed with only female victims between the ages of sixteen and-"
Arthur's face grew red and hot from fury. "Leave now!"
The police officer rushed to Arthur's side and seen the Hungarian woman with a hurt look on her face.
"Miss please step away from the crime scene," he said, eyeing up the angered Arthur.
The woman scowled at both the officer along with Arthur. With one elegant move, she turned on her heals and left the scene, with only the sounds of her heels trailing behind her.
A/N: I think this was actually one of my favorite chapters to write. I just really seem to like writing about failing relationships...that didn't come out right.
Thank you from the bottom of my heart for reading/reviewing