Disclaimer: I own nothing.
The Present.
Justin Lawson slowly clenched his hands into fists, feeling the stiff paper he held crumple as he did so. He wanted to scream, punch the wall, throw some furniture through the window, turn the air blue with curses, but he knew he had to restrain himself. Even as late as it was, the dim twilight rays filtering through the window rapidly darkening into night, Scotland Yard was manned 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. Any noise like he wanted, like he yearned to make would surely quickly bring an officer in to investigate. He was therefore forced to settle for clenching and unclenching his hands as he trembled with a fury he hadn't felt in well over a year.
Keelan Makepeace, Justin's partner, Justin's assassin, had today done something that would set in motion the inevitable fatal conclusion of the chain of events that Justin had started more than a year ago. Utter fool that he was in his sheer arrogance, Makepeace hadn't realised what he had done, but soon, all too soon now, he would know.
The Past.
Justin sighed in frustration as he investigated the scene of the crime. It was a brutal crime – a bank clerk had been tied up and killed. The cause of death was intracranial haemorrhage, caused by a stab to the head. The bank vaults had been cleared of money. The crime scene was unusually clean of evidence, with no sign of the murder weapon, and Justin, whom usually relished a challenge (far too many criminals underestimated the people and the technologies of the Yard) was struggling to keep his mind focused on the case. Justin simply couldn't stop himself from thinking about an issue much greater in scope than a simple murder, even one as masterfully executed as this one.
The general election had been three months ago. Surprisingly, the relatively new People's Party had won – their glided promises of a happy, wealthy life under their government had lured voters, discontent with the current governing political party, in. That was the tale the newspapers told anyway.
Justin knew better. In his career as a homicide detective, he had come in contact more than a few times with the criminal underworld, and his innate distrust of allowing others to handle his investigations without his close involvement, coupled with his fearless nature meant that his forays into that underworld went far deeper than those of his peers. Such forays had, inevitably also lead to the making of certain contacts; not with any criminals, but with those whom, usually through bad fortune, had deeper ties, and greater knowledge of the underworld than even Justin possessed.
It was several of these contacts that had revealed the life-changing truth to Justin; the People's Party had a close alliance with the Umbra crime syndicate. Unlike such organisations such as the Mafia, Umbra 's existence was only known only in small, select, circles. Umbra helped the People's Party by disposing of anything that could harm the party, be it photos, evidence, or people. In return, the People's Party allowed them free reign to carry out their criminal activities, free from police interference.
Justin hadn't been able to go to anyone with this information. Corruption was rife in the Yard – there were few officers that could not be bribed or threatened. If Justin tried to speak out, he knew it would only be a short matter of time before he met with an unfortunate, and fatal, accident.
The former Chief Inspector Chemely was proof of this. Years ago, Chemely had tried to launch an investigation into the Prime Minister at the time, Bill Hawks, whom Chemely alleged, had a hand in a violent explosion at a lab ten years ago. A formal investigation was never launched, no charges were ever brought against Hawkes, but Chemely suddenly found himself passed over for promotion in favour of his good natured, but not overly competent assistant, Barton. Not long after that, Chemely had been hit with compulsory redundancy. Justin knew that the only reason Chemely himself hadn't met with a more permanent fate was because Chemely, well aware that he was taking on the Prime Minster had been careful to never actually name Hawks, but instead allowed the media to speculate. And the media, ever predicable, did, and the speculation spread to the general public. Rumours were rife, and had anything more sinister happened to Chemely, those rumours would have gotten increased, instead of slowly fading out, as they did.
Bill Hawks had stepped down from his party, and moved out of the public eye, but his shady dealings had and still continued, even though Hawks was now in his late seventies; his own deep, but hidden connections to the People's Party, and the current Prime Minister, to whom Hawkes had previously been something of a mentor to, meant that Hawkes lived a very comfortable existence.
Justin had fought against crime for years. The thought that Britain was now governed by criminals was intolerable to Justin, but for all his intellect and courage, Justin simply couldn't think of any way to fight such a foe.
And then, Justin had met Keelan Makepeace.
Justin's investigations into the bank murder and theft had turned up little evidence, (the security cameras had, with terrible timing, broken some hours before the crime) and no suspects. Justin was almost willing to concede defeat, at least temporarily, and move on to a new case, when a witness had unexpectedly turned themselves in at the Yard.
The witness' name was Archie O'Logie, an archaeologist of some repute. O'Logie gave a statement that he had seen a blond man climbing out of a bank window. Under further questioning by Justin: "Why had it taken so long for O'Logie to present himself as a witness?" "What was O'Logie doing there himself at that time of night?" O'Logie admitted that he had been drunk on the night of the crime, and had gotten lost on his way home. With frank honesty, O'Logie also admitted that the only reason he had turned himself in was because he had realised, once he had fully sobered up, that he would have been caught on the security cameras, not having realised that the camera were not working at the time, and it that would only be a matter of time before he was called in for questioning.
Armed with O'Logie's statements, Justin returned to the scene of the crime. After a little more investigation, both at the scene, and through the Yard, Justin was finally able deduce that a trader named Keelan Makepeace was the killer.
Police procedure dictated that Justin call for back-up, track down and arrest Makepeace before bringing him back to the Yard for a formal interrogation. The whole process would take tedious hours. Justin had never liked police procedures; he thought they were a waste of time at best, and an active obstacle to efficient police work at worst. Justin's dislike of some formal police procedures was so intense, he had risked disciplinary action for his little "short-cuts" on more than one occasion.
Justin had rather suspected that the reason he was shortly due to be assigned a new partner was to ensure that Justin followed the rules a little more closely than was his wont. Justin had yet to meet his partner to be, but he had heard that the man was quite young, and was making a favourable impression on the higher-ups. There was also a faint rumour going around that his future partner was in fact the son of the semi-famous former Professor Layton, whose former work with the Yard was almost the stuff of legends these days. Justin had no doubt that his new partner was the straight arrow type, who would follow rules to the exact letter, not understanding that rules sometimes had to be broken, and would demand that everyone else show the same adherence to those rules.
With the thought that this would probably be his last solo case, free to act as he pleased, within certain incontrovertible limits, without needing to explain himself, or having a partner breathing down his neck while bleating out rules and regulations, Justin, fearless as always, had made the fateful decision to confront Makepeace alone.
At first Makepeace had tried to protest that he was merely a simple, harmless trader. When Justin showed Makepeace the single blond hair that he had found near the window where O'Logie alleged the killer had escaped from with the threat of DNA testing to prove the hair, found inside the bank, in an area restricted to staff, did indeed belong to Makepeace, Keelan Makepeace had dropped his mask, and shown his true form, an inherently rotten, feral being. Someone who killed without rhyme or reason, for the simple pleasure of killing. Makepeace had protested his innocence, not because he wanted to avoid prison so much, he simply didn't want to be put somewhere where he would be denied the possibility of continuing his random carnage.
Justin should have arrested Makepeace there and then, and dragged him down to the Yard for incarceration. Instead, Justin, watching this inhuman man, found himself thinking about the People's Party, Umbra, and how cleanly the bank murder had been carried out.
And that was when Justin had made his decision, a decision that would change the course of several people's lives, crossing a line onto a one-way path that Justin would never be able to turn back from.
The Present.
Justin unfurled his hands, and in a sharp movement, tore the two photographs he held. By themselves, the photos seemed innocuous, a photo of Keelan Makepeace entering a door, and another of him leaving. When the timestamps printed on the photos were also taken into consideration though, it made a truthful and incriminating, whole.
For the first time in their year long acquaintance, Keelan Makepeace had stepped beyond those lines that Justin had so clearly laid out for him, by killing someone of his own volition, without any prior consultation. Justin could admit to himself that he wasn't all that bothered by that; in all honestly, it seemed the victim, a millionaire businessmen, who had dodgy deals with all kinds of people, wasn't that much better than the syndicate he was still targeting. No, the real issue here was that Makepeace, in his arrogance, had left a puzzle piece at the scene of the crime. Justin understood why Makepeace had done it, it was a sign to him, Justin, that he was to come in, and clear up after Makepeace's most recent murder.
And Justin had done so; he'd taken away the now torn photos he held, proving, beyond a shadow of doubt that Makepeace was alone with the victim at the time of the murder. What Makepeace, short-sighted as he was, had failed to realise, was that the victim, known for his paranoia, had put a security camera above his office door, snapping everyone that went in or out. A strange oversight on Makepeace's side, considering part of the reason Justin had originally caught Makepeace was because Makepeace been repeatedly seen on the bank's security cameras, before they had broken, as Makepeace had staked out the place in preparation of his murder and theft. Although Justin had hidden the most incriminating photos, he hadn't been able to hide all photographic evidence that Makepeace had been to see the victim. Makepeace had made sure of that by speaking to a jeweller that was also present in the mansion for an appointment with the victim. Justin could manipulate physical evidence, but he couldn't touch witness testimonies, not without incriminating both himself and Makepeace.
Justin hadn't been able to dispose of the puzzle piece, as the wife of the victim whom had discovered the body had mentioned the puzzle piece when she had called the police. And so, the murder had been classed as yet another Jigsaw Puzzle murder, with the result that the four person team, including Justin, created solely to work on those murders, had taken the case on. And the other three were all very interested in the security camera photos.
Keelan Makepeace was now a blip on the police radar, and Justin knew, that it would not be long now before someone realised that Makepeace was the Jigsaw Puzzle Killer.
The Past.
Justin had offered Makepeace an ultimatum right there and then. Arrest, with the prospect of a long prison sentence, or work as an assassin for him. Justin knew that Makepeace would choose the latter option, and Makepeace did not surprise him. Justin had walked away from a cold-blooded killer after telling Makepeace to wait for Justin to be in contact.
Justin's plans had flowed together into a single whole with such ease, it was almost as though the seed of his plan to eliminate Umbra had been in the back of his mind all along. Justin had had his doubts, his moments of second-guessing, and self loathing, then he remembered the innocent people that had already been "disposed" of in the run-up to the general election, and those that would undoubtedly be disposed of in the future if nothing was done.
Justin wanted Umbra, and by extension, the People's Party to know that they couldn't murder and destroy peoples lives without any consequences, he wanted them to know, as their members were being killed off, one, by one, that this was their punishment, not an ill streak of luck. To that end, he came up with the idea of the "Jigsaw Puzzle Killer" persona; with each killing that Justin ordered, carried out by Makepeace, a puzzle piece would be left at the scene of the crime. Justin was certain that officers in the force, under pay or threat from the syndicate, would faithfully report the finding of these puzzle pieces on the bodies of Umbra's members.
And so, the Jigsaw Puzzle Killer was born. The first victim, by all appearances a rank and file office worker, key Umbra member in private, Makepeace killed with a poisoned knife as she walked alone down a quiet street, a puzzle piece left on her back. The murders continued from there, not all of them done by Makepeace, but all tampered with by Justin, continued, and the police, never realising that one of their own was orchestrating the murders, cleaning the scenes of evidence, were helpless.
The Present.
Justin heard a slam, and suddenly light spilled out around the sole doorway to the office. After the Commissioner himself had joined the team investigating the Jigsaw Puzzle murders, the team had been moved into the most spacious office in the Yard, a cavernous room that had been split into two. Even split as it was, each half was significantly larger than the average policeman's office, and as a result, the two rooms had become known as the Outer and Inner Offices. The Inner office, which Justin was currently standing in, was only accessible from the Outer Office. Justin froze in surprise, he had thought that the rest of the team had left for the night, and Dustin Scowers, the cleaner, was expressly forbidden from cleaning either of the two offices. Moving quickly and surprisingly quietly, given his stature, Justin swept across the floor, and turned on the light in his room. Taken out of his introspective rage, only now did Justin realise how dark it had gotten, and the very last thing he needed was someone to come and start asking awkward questions as to why he was standing around in the dark. Moving even more quickly now, but still quietly, Justin shoved the torn and tattered, but still readily recognisable photos of Makepeace into his inner coat pocket. Spinning around, wryly thinking to himself that if he ever left the force, he could have potential as a dancer, Justin grabbed a file at random off the nearest shelf, before finally settling himself down at a desk, spreading the contents of the file in front of him.
Justin's listened carefully to the footsteps in the Outer Office as he stared, unseeingly, at the paperwork he had just spread out. They were light, which pretty much ruled out Commissioner Barton, and even, no hint of the clicking of high-heels, which more or less ruled out Hilda. That only left Al.
Justin carefully wore a mask of concentration as he continued to pretend to read his paperwork against the chance of Al coming in. Justin knew that the most sensible course of action would be for him to just calmly stroll out of the Yard, the photos safely in his coat, and quietly go back home, where he could think and plan his next moves without fear of being disturbed. That was the most sensible and logical course of action, but, ridiculous as it sounded, even to Justin himself, he didn't want to walk past Al, or any of his team carrying stolen evidence.
Justin liked and respected all three of them; Al had turned out to be completely different to what Justin had imagined him to be, Hilda was kind hearted and caring, despite how overbearing she could sometimes be, and Barton brought an indefinable quality that came with his years of experience in the force, and his quiet, peaceful nature was a welcome change to Hilda and Al, both of which could only be described as being possessed of a fiery temperament (Justin had gotten many hours of entertainment watching Hilda and Al yell at each other). It was a cliché, but Justin sometimes felt like his lies and sins were physical burdens, visible to everyone that weighed him down. That regrettable burden somehow felt like it would be even more visible to Al, whose calculating gaze, and almost unnatural understanding of the criminal mind could make you feel as though Al knew and was judging you for every little misdemeanour you'd ever committed, down to sneaking sweets, and not brushing your teeth as a child.
A sharp crash against the wall, followed by a slithering sound that sounded like paper falling to the floor pulled Justin out of his pensive thoughts. Automatically Justin reached across the desk for a form to request new furniture; there was a stack of them on the desk, this wasn't the first time the furnishings had been thrown across one of the offices. About to start filling it in, Justin hesitated; he was sure that he had only heard one set of footsteps in the outer office.
Justin had worked closely with Al for long enough now for Justin to have realised that his partners infamous temper tantrums were generally more for show than anything else, and that no matter what, Al never lost his power of rational thought. Al throwing things without an audience to gape and tremble in fear, was unheard of.
Justin couldn't contain his curiosity, he got up, and opened the door connecting the two offices. Straight away Justin could see the twisted frame of a metal chair lying on the floor, slips of paper from a case file scattered around it like a wreath of flowers mourning the chair's passing. Al was standing in the middle of the room, glaring at the scene like it had mortally offended him.
"What?" Al snapped, not taking his eyes from the chair. Justin decided against replying, in the absence of his former rage, Justin felt tired and depressed, the last thing Justin wanted right now was to engage in conversation of any kind.
Al stalked over, still glaring at the broken chair, and snatched up the scattered pages from the case file, before storming over to the desk in the centre of the room, which now only held three chairs. Al finally looked at Justin, a silent, but clear command to join him at the desk. Justin obeyed, knowing that any attempt at a protest, or refusal would just cause Al to start mocking him for his lack of commitment.
As soon as Justin reached the desk, Al spread the contents of the file out across the desk. With a twist of amusement, Justin noticed that despite Al's earlier treatment of the file, Al had still taken the time to place everything back neatly in order, the pages and photographs somehow looking none the worse for being flung across the room in a rage less than five minutes ago.
"Something's not right." Al said abruptly. "It's been confirmed that the camera was fully functional throughout the time of the murder, yet none of the people it captured had the opportunity to commit the murder. The victim was still alive when the wife left, the jeweller wasn't there long enough to kill and hide the victim, plus the evidence before the trader arrived, and from the ash in the ashtray, the victim must have been killed before the housekeeper arrived. " Al frowned, but his eyes were shining. "It's not only this case. Twenty-one murders, all committed by the same person, and we have yet to find a single piece of evidence." Al's frown changed into a small smirk. "Intriguing, don't you think? When we finally get our killer, I'll make sure I find out how they did it."
Justin felt a wave of icy cold wash over him. This was an issue that Justin had considered before; considered, and then always immediately dismissed as something to worry about later. Justin swallowed, not trusting himself to speak. Al, still focused on the file, didn't notice. "The window in the office was locked. The only means of entry into the victims office was the door. Oh, yes, one of these people is the Jigsaw Puzzle Killer". As Al spoke, his eyes drifted over each suspect profile, as though he would be able to tell just from a photo which person was the one Al had been chasing for almost a year. Justin couldn't be sure, but it seemed to him that Al's gaze lingered longer on Makepeace's photo longer than anyone else.
Finally escaping (and Justin couldn't pretend it was anything other than an escape) leaving Al still pouring over the case file, Justin just walked enough so that the Yard was out of visibility before leaning up against a lamppost, savouring the cold night air, allowing it to focus and sharpen his thoughts into clarity.
Time is running out. That was one of the two simple, stark issues that Justin now faced. Justin had known, right from the start, that he would never be able to have everyone in Umbra killed. There were too many members, some hidden even from Justin's contacts; no, Justin's aim was to kill the key members of Umbra, to cripple Umbra, and watch from afar as Umbra crumbled. And right now, there were still five members of Umbra that Justin intended to have killed.
Time was short, now, but Justin hoped that there was still enough time to have the remaining five killed, before one of the team finally deduced that Makepeace was indeed the Jigsaw Puzzle Killer. The remaining murders would not be as neat and meticulously planned as the previous Jigsaw Puzzle Killings, but with tonight's events; with it now being almost a certainty that Makepeace would soon be found out, the planning and tidy up had become secondary considerations.
That lead to the second issue, one which was far more difficult to resolve.
The clean up.
In making his deal with Makepeace, Justin had chosen to become a killer. An indirect killer until now, but Justin had realised from the outset that he would one day have to personally deal with Makepeace, that the only way Justin could be completely assured of Makepeace's silence would be for Justin to kill Makepeace with his own hands. This too, was something that Justin had considered and accepted.
Justin had no delusions that he would get out of this unscathed. Justin knew that he would have to one day pay a price; that one day, the time of reckoning would come, when he would have to pay for his deeds. Justin couldn't afford to pay yet though, not until Umbra had fallen, and Britain was out of the clutches of the People's Party. Until that time, it was essential that Justin's role in the Jigsaw Puzzle Killings remain undetected.
And this brought Justin to the problem that Justin had tried so hard to hide from; that Makepeace had now forced Justin to face. Barton and Hilda would settle simply for the ending of the Jigsaw Puzzle Killings, able to accept that not all of their questions that had arisen during the past year would be answered, but Al would not.
Prior to Makepeace's most recent murder, Justin had already begun to make his plans for the official end of the Jigsaw Puzzle Killings; a final rendezvous with Makepeace in Forbodium Castle, once Makepeace had finished the last Umbra member, quietly killing Makepeace there, and hiding the body; far from Forbodium. Sudden evidence coming to light that would incriminate Makepeace as the Jigsaw Puzzle Killer, which in turn would cause a search for Makepeace. Once Makepeace's body was eventually found, the Jigsaw Puzzle Killings would be closed, and a case for the murder of Keelan Makepeace would be opened; no evidence would be found, and eventually Makepeace's murder would have been filed away.
Barton and Hilda, Justin knew, would accept this ending that Justin had planned. Al, however, would not rest until he knew the full truth behind the Jigsaw Puzzle Killings. Al had been a cause of concern to Justin before now; with the way Al tirelessly pursued the murders, seemingly not even needing to sleep or eat; Al's theories and extrapolations – at one point Al had ventured the idea that the near absolute lack of evidence in the crime scenes could be explained if Makepeace was working with someone if the force. Fortunately for Justin, Barton had conceded, albeit under protest, to Al's demand that no officer, sans their four person team, be allowed on the scene of more than one murder. When the murders continued, and still no evidence was found after that rule was implemented, Al had abandoned the idea that Makepeace was receiving police assistance.
Justin couldn't delay or hide from the truth any longer: Al would always be a constant, serious threat to Justin's plans, and had to be dealt with. The new plan was already forming in Justin's mind; a confrontation in Forbodium between Al and Makepeace, where Makepeace would kill Al, and Justin would kill Makepeace; an arranging the crime scene, an art which Justin had perfected over the past year, and Justin's success would be all but guaranteed.
Mind set, heart-aching, Justin returned home, where he immediately contacted Makepeace.
Time was running out.