Alfred drove slowly, his eyes focused on the road, from time to time he could hear his partner shifting pages, the man had been going through the documents for a while now, silence engulfing them as the rumbling of the engine came to a stop.
Silence, from all the things this man could do, Alfred feared his silence. Officer Braginsky was thinking, analyzing, plotting. Two months in this godforsaken town had taught Alfred to fear this man's silence. The last time he was this silent, Gilbert ended up with a broken nose.
Tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, Alfred sighed, taking off his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose. "Would you mind telling me what's so interesting about a folder that we have read a hundred times already?"
The glare from the man on the seat beside made him pause, a sly smile formed on his face as he talked. "I don't know, aren't you the star detective?"
Alfred's smile faltered, to say this man was annoying was an understatement. Alfred F. Jones was brought into this small town to complete his training, he was the top student back in the academia but a stupid mistake with the instructor sealed his fate. Now, he had to waste a year of his life in a town where the murder rate was apparently low and the young people eloped without leaving a trace. Good news for the inhabitants, bad news for him.
What was a soon to be FBI homicide detective doing in a town like this? Nothing, he was merely absorbing the local gossiping without asking. These people were so plain that it was easy to tell if the mailman had an affair with a housewife or if the mayor was covering up the town's growth numbers by blaming it on the insecurity rates.
The people he'd met were predictable, simple, boring, the only one slightly out of place was the man next to him. Braginsky was the puzzle Alfred was so desperate to find in the town. This man was smart, perhaps not brilliant, but he wasn't a fool either, the piled up books on his work desk were proof of that, he also had an almost impeccable record of work, except for that one time that could have costed him his career if an 'important person' hadn't stepped in for him.
Chief Beilshmidt made sure to warn Alfred "don't offer him any alcoholic drink" he said. Why on earth would he do that? Officer Braginsky was exasperating sober, Alfred didn't want to deal with him drunk. Not only was he intimidating, Braginsky was odd, disappearing on his non-working days, showing up to the office as if he'd been beaten by a wild animal and that eerie, constant smile he wore, made sure to keep everyone out of his way.
Almost everyone, Alfred had no doubt that his gay ass was falling deeper into the hole of infatuation for this annoying man. Though that might just be his lack of entertainment in the town.
Ivan was a jerk but he had unveiled Alfred's preferences as soon as they were assigned as partners, providing him with the assurement that for the very least, he was not alone. Too bad this guy seemed to have low to zero sexual drive or interest in him, always ignoring Alfred's innuendos.
On the days he was not busy doing who knows what, Alfred had tried to get to know him better but Braginsky was like a wall of concrete where his questions either crashed or bounced back.
Only god knew where Ivan went on those days he disappeared until dawn, though Alfred had a gut feeling that he didn't want to know what he was up to. If he had to guess, it was probably some messed up fight club shit where he was not invited, for the looks of it, Alfred was better off without knowing.
"Look, I know we started the day with the wrong foot today but if we want to close the case properly, we have to work on this together." Alfred said, adjusting his glasses. "You can start by telling me what happened to your hand."
"It's nothing, I was washing the dishes and one of the cups broke. This weather It's awfully hot," Ivan replied, enveloping a scarf around his neck and giving him a sly smile as he stepped out of the car. "Your observations become worse each day. The file is wrong, Arthur Kirkland wasn't on a sabbatical year."
"That scarf suits you." Alfred followed him, carrying a small bag, the damp air made him frown. "How was I supposed to know that? The woman said he was a professor, nothing more."
They neared an antique looking house, though Alfred would have said that about all of the buildings in the town. This house in particular was one the few structures that stood out in the otherwise dull town, fancy, spacious, exclusive. Today the attraction was it's greenhouse, it was a shame it had only attracted flies.
Each time mayor Zwingly complained about the lack of tourists, Alfred had to refrain from pointing out the gloomy forest or the crumbling houses, and take in the mayor's complaints about how he was not doing his work. He reached for the bag, holding the camera, taking a picture of the ornamental gate.
Opening the gate with gloved hands, Ivan shook his head. "Professor Kirkland is rather eccentric for this town, with all the rumors about him, I'm sure Michelle didn't want you to stick your nose in his business."
Alfred squinted his eyes as he clicked the camera again, the familiarity Braginsky had with everyone was to be expected, he was stuck here all his life after all. What Alfred did not expect was him using Michelle's name to correct him, he seemed almost offended. "Do you know them personally?"
"Of course I do, Kirkland was my sister's professor, he was directing her thesis." Placing his hand on the dragon heads of the door, Ivan pulled firmly.
Alfred shifted on his feet, the word "was" giving out the cue for Alfred to not ask about which sister he was referring to.
A gasp escaped him as they entered the green house, the inside was filled with plants, vines running around the once polished floor, the walls covered with damp ivy. "Is it too late for me to enroll as a professor in the university? I can let a garden go wild too."
"Even if you did, you'd still live in that small apartment, this place is funded by the Vargas', if you want to have money in this town you better have a good last name or miraculous luck, else you're fucked." Braginsky coughed, tossing him a pair of gloves. "Let's not make this job harder for Dr. Honda."
Alfred complied, Kiku was one of the few polite persons in this town and he prefered to keep it that way. He took a picture of a plant, the pink flowers made it stand out as the others hadn't bloomed yet. "So, Kirkland was lucky?"
"That depends on how we find him." Ivan hummed. "How about you take pictures of something worthy instead of flashing me with that every two seconds?"
"We have to register each of our steps, the chief said we couldn't touch anything, and I have to show them that we didn't."
Ivan walked around slowly. "I'm sure that Ludwig can move some strings with his brother if we push this investigation further."
A calm voice cut in. "Please, don't touch the plants."
Alfred turned to look at a short woman, she was the same woman who put up the missing person report, she shook her head, her brown curly hair shifting slightly as she did so. "The specimens stored here are part of the professor's research, the whole experiment would be damaged if a stranger interacts with the plants."
"Of course," Unfazed, Ivan walked towards her. "This place is clear, Jones, let's move out of here."
Alfred paused, they had no warrant to examine the rest of the property. He gave a small glance at the woman as he stepped out of the greenhouse.
"Professor Kirkland was here on friday night, he said he'd work a few hours more and that we'd see each other on monday, as usual." Michelle said, following them with hurried steps. "I was here on time, at 9 am but he never arrived. As I'm not allowed to carry on the experiment alone, I called him around 12 but he didn't answer, it was like that all monday."
"What exactly is the experiment's goal?" Ivan asked, taking a turn towards the house.
Michelle halted on her steps, crossing her arms. "I cannot provide you with that information, I'm sorry." She gave them a small, unsure glance. "It's strange that the professor hasn't arrived, he is very dedicated to his work and four days without carrying out his investigation would drive him insane."
Alfred nodded, offering her a small smile. "How long have you known the professor?"
At the question Michelle hummed. "He used to work at the university and took me in as one of his pupils, well, as the only one actually. Is a bit difficult to keep up with him if you don't know about his research."
"What is his speciality as a… scientist?" Alfred said, hoping that the choice of words wouldn't put off Michelle.
Luckily, it didn't as she answered swiftly. "He's an ethnobiologist, specialized in poisonous specimens. His last work helped develop a new medicine for tropical fever. It's a miracle for me to be working with him." She beamed, lowering her eyes. "I am really worried, the plants have been plagued with flies and I don't know how to get rid of them without affecting the experiment."
Ivan stopped, motioning Alfred to look down, the ground, covered in dry leaves was messy, a trail of wet leaves created a path, showing that something or someone had been dragged. Braginsky hummed. "Is there a shed here?"
"There is one near the right wing of the manor but that is part of Mr. Vargas' property."
"Do you think we can borrow a shovel? Tell him that I won't damage his gardenias." Ivan chuckled.
Michelled faltered, her lips quivering slightly as she lowered her eyes and nodded. "I… I'll request one."
"You know Mr. Vargas?" Alfred observed as she walked away hurriedly, her feet stumbling a little with her shaky movements. "Why are you going to dig? Are we even allowed to?"
"Guess who my godfather is." Ivan hummed, taking light steps and following the trail. "You make me concerned about the quality of the FBI cadetes."
The messy leaves crumbled, wet, piled together unnaturally, leading to the opening of the forest, where part of the fence was, Alfred scrunched up his nose as a rotting stench overwhelmed the air. He could hear the flies and he gagged. "I think professor Kirkland is here" he managed to cough.
Alfred had seen crime scenes before, it was easy to tell when the person was killed but he had never seen a crime scene when the victim was displayed as such, in a twisted and preconceived way.
His hands shook as he lifted the camera, he felt guilty photographing the corpse. A cold sweat ran down his spine, Alfred's mouth was dry and his chest was tight, as the flashing light came, he took a shaky breath. Sweet, as if the corpse had been dipped in caramel, the scent was overwhelming.
He turned to find solace in his partner's face, surely, he would be as horrified as him. Alfred focused on his eyes, those blue almost violet orbs were distant, cold, no trace of fear could be seen. The cold sweat in Alfred's body increased, he stepped back, he could only smell the sickly sweet rotten stench, the wide smile he saw on Braginsky's face was all it took for Alfred's stomach to twist.
He fell on his knees, his shaking hands barely lifting his weight, the bitter taste on his throat was soothing, it was strange, somehow, Alfred was relieved from feeling overwhelmed. This was proof that he was not a monster after all.
Though, that plagued his mind with another question.