Episode B1–3: White Flags

[DETECTIVE GOODMAN: WRITINGS ON NEWEST RECRUIT]

August 21. 8:00 PM. Police Department. Detention Center.

Detective Goodman stumbled out of the 1st investigation room. His eyes were heavy, and his hands were cramped from writing down testimonies. After a minute, Pam opened her door with a long sigh, joining him in the hallway. She looked worse than him, her hair out of it's bun and spiked up in 10 different directions.

Their last witnesses had left long ago, but it had taken the two of them an extra hour to get all the testimonies straight. The two detectives tiredly leaned on the wall, standing next to each other.

"That was…" Goodman trailed off. Pam rubbed her eyes with a hand, sinking to the floor until she was sitting.

"Terrible," she finished. She tried to put her hair back up without much success. "Please tell me your witnesses didn't all say they committed the crime."

"Unfortunately, yes. Every single one of them said that they did it, on their own, with no help from the others. We have even more potential murderers." The only one they couldn't get in the interrogation room was Asha, who was still in a medical coma. Goodman was starting to side with Pam; maybe the girl really had killed Deddison.

"And their stories were different as well." Pam tugged on her lose hairs with a moan. "The priest said he stabbed him at the alter, while the victim was confessing his crimes. Both Gunmans said they killed him at different hunting trips."

"Benny said he stabbed his cousin in the kitchen," Goodman continued. "And the doctor said he did it at an appointment. Isha killed him in the home living room—"

"And Lilly did it in the garden at night." Pam sighed, using the wall to stand up. "None of their stories make sense. If I killed someone, why would I hide the body in a place where there were a lot of people? And why would I get the police involved?"

"Well, I can answer that last question. An officer noticed the group enter the park on his shift. Guess it was hard to miss those costumes. He says he didn't see them carry in any body or large objects. So, technically, the victim should have died at the scene. But he didn't. He was moved."

"So how? Surely nothing strange actually happened that night." She intertwined her hands, tapping them against her chin. "Someone is lying."

"Yes, but who?"

"My money's still on Asha."

Goodman sighed. "I wish we had time to wait for her to wake up. Unfortunately, we have a prosecutor putting together the case for the trial. That will start on the 23rd. I don't know if we have enough time to put together a solid killer. We have two days to come up with a suspect. Right now, they are targeting Benny."

"The cousin? Why?"

"No real reason other than he's related. He had the most to gain when the victim died. He's basically 'Deddy's' brother; the house would go to him."

"Great." Pam pushed off the wall, walking with him down the hall back to the main area of the department. "Just great. So what now?"

"Personally, I say dinner, then make one last push to figure out who our murderer is. I'll order us something." He ran a hand through his prickly hair. "Chinese sound good?"

"Sure. While you do that, I'm gonna try something."

"That sounds awfully suspicious…" But she was already walking off to her desk, rummaging around in her drawers. Goodman shrugged, heading over to the phone at the Chief of Detectives' desk and placing their food order. It only took a few moments. He was surprised that when he turned around, Pam had taken over a space on the wall. The case file lay on the floor, photos scattered around. She was pinning up the rest of the pictures on the wall, connecting them with some string.

"You're making a murder board. Smart. But you know…" He walked over. "We have bulletin boards for that. You don't need to poke holes into the walls."

"Should've told me that before." Pam poked one last picture on, one from the crime scene. After that, she wrote down names and phrases on notecards, putting them under the pictures. "Let's take a step back. I think we're looking at this too closely. We need to start from the beginning."

"Okay, okay…" Goodman pulled up a chair, watching the younger girl pace back and forth. "The group goes to the park after a wild night of drinking—"

"No no, that's wrong." Pam shook her head. "We know they're lying about the real murder. Obviously they all didn't murder the victim. Those people are hiding something. More specifically, they're covering for someone." She stared at the picture at the top of the wall, one of the victim's body. "Let's…hypothesize.

"A group of people come to the victim's home at his invitation. All of them are connected to him in some way. A cousin, two old folks, a priest, a doctor, a nurse, and two young ladies. All come from across the country, just to meet our man, Deddison. Why?"

"Old friends," Goodman answered. "They all knew him. It's not impossible that they would all come together."

"You're right, but it is a little weird. What did the victim accomplish? Nothing, that's what. He was just a guy with a lot of money." She pointed to a picture of a nice, large house, probably the victim's. "Where do you suppose he got that money?"

Goodman scratched his chin. "Well, Reverend Holly did say that the Gunmans paid his college tuition for him. Perhaps they did the same for the house."

"But why? As much as I love my brother, I won't pay the rent of his apartment for the rest of my life." Pam pointed to profiles of the Gunmans. "You would either have to really, really adore someone, or…?"

"Huh, you think Deddison had some blackmail on the Gunmans?"

"Not just them. I think if we had time to investigate the victim more, we would find a dark trail of blackmail and forgery. But since we don't have that time…" She sighed, hands falling to her sides. "We'll have to bridge the gaps ourselves. He could have some scandal on the priest, the doctor, and the nurse. Who knows what he may have on Asha and Isha?"

"Okay, so let's pretend your line of thinking is right." Goodman stood, joining the girl at the wall. "All these people have to stay close to Deddison, for their own safety. He invites them to his new home, perhaps as some sort of power play. In that time, something happens. Maybe he threatens one of them with his blackmail, tries to spook them. One of them kills the victim. The others see their captor is dead and agree to help cover the scene."

Pam picked up on his trail. "The murderer and their six accomplices clean up the scene of the crime. It doesn't matter where the crime took place now; they've had plenty of time to clean and disguise the scene. Even if we managed to find it, any good evidence will be hidden away or destroyed. After that, they move the body. I don't know if when the victim was murdered, they were already in the costumes or not, but either way, they move his body to the park, probably hoping to drop it there and then they could all go their separate ways the next morning."

"But a cop saw them," he interjected. "Out of curiosity, he follows them. He stumbles upon the group just as they are setting up the altar. They must have planned that as well. Then, in a panic, Asha passes out. And so, the story of the spirit possession comes to fruition."

They stood in silence, staring at the wall. Goodman stuffed his hands into his pockets. Yes, it all made sense. It was a solid line of thinking. However…he sighed.

"If only we had the evidence to back it up. It was a good thought, Pam, but without proof—"

"Then we need a testimony." Pam smacked a fist into her other hand. "One of those people is the real murderer. It could be Asha, or she might have just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Today, which of the people we interviewed seemed the most skittish?"

The room was quiet again. Goodman watched as Pam tugged hard on that strand of hair, biting her lip in thought. It was apparent that she was having a hard time, at least when thinking about her own interviewees. He crossed his arms, tapping his right arm with a finger.

"I might have a clue…it's a long shot, but we could try it."

"It's better than nothing." Pam's head turned to the front door, where they could hear a quiet knocking. "Ah, must be our food. Shall we talk about it over dinner?"

Goodman nodded, his stomach growling. "We shall. Food first, incredibly taxing investigation later. I call the General's Chicken."

"…you are downright evil, you know that?"

August 22. 7:40 AM. Deddison Diggory's House.

The two detectives stood in front of one of the largest houses either of them had ever seen. Made out of fine stone, it towered above the other homes in the small housing area. It had fine arches in the front, held up by pillars. The doors looked like they needed a team of men to open them. Several police officers stood around, making sure the people in the house wouldn't leave the property. After all, they all had technically confessed to murdering Deddison. Goodman whistled, taking in the view.

"It certainly would be a good reason to kill someone, if it meant getting a place like this."

"No kidding," Pam muttered. "Guess we should go find our guy."

Goodman took the lead, walking up to the door and using the giant knocker. They only had to wait a few seconds before Benny answered the door. His hair was in disarray, and he had dark circles under his eyes. He glanced between the two detectives, his fingers drumming on the door.

"Detective Goodman? What are you doing here? I thought I answered all your questions yesterday?"

"We just had a few follow up questions we needed to ask you. Is it all right if we come in?"

Benny paused, fingers going still. He sighed, opening the door wide and gesturing them in. He looked beyond tired. "Yes, of course. Please, come in. Sorry, everything is still a mess from where the police investigated. The living room is right around here…" Benny sat on one of the armchairs while the detectives took the couch. A staircase was on the right, leading up to higher floors. Benny leaned his elbows on his knees, rubbing his eyes with his hand.

"So, Benny, we had a question we think could help close this case completely," Goodman started.

"But I already answered everything—"

"Not about the murder," Pam said in a surprisingly gentle tone. "We had a question about your cousin, the victim." Benny leaned back against the seat with a small huff. His eyes were trained on the coffee table in front of him.

"Deddison? Sure, of course. I suppose we never really talked about him."

"Your cousin must have had a lot of cash to buy a place like this." Goodman cleared his throat and crossed his legs. "Must have been a really rich guy. Was it some sort of family inheritance?"

Benny laughed harshly. "Please. Deddison came from a relatively poor family. They managed to get by, but that was about it. He was lucky that the Gunman family paid for his college education. If they hadn't, he wouldn't have ever been able to go."

"I actually have a question about that." Pam leaned forward, hands clasped. "Your group is made up of such a ragtag group of people. How did you all meet?"

"Well, I went to college with Ded. That's where we met Asha and Isha. We all sort of stayed together. Later, maybe a year after we graduated, he met the good doctor and Lilly. Richard Holly was the local priest where we lived." He laughed, but it sounded dry. "Guess we were all sort of drawn to each other."

And the victim was the common thread, Goodman thought. The older detective chuckled, trying to relax Benny. The man was so tense it looked like he was going to snap like a rubber band.

"Well, it's good to have friends. You all must be very loyal to each other."

"Yeah," Benny smiled, "I guess we are."

There was the sound of hurried footsteps coming from the stairs. All of them turned to see Isha, now in normal clothes, running down the steps. Huffing, she spoke.

"Benny, Asha is wondering if she could have—" It was only then that she noticed the two detectives in the room. She stopped, one foot off the step she was on. Her tan face had gone unusually pale. "D-Detectives…?"

Pam stood, glancing at Goodman. "I'm sorry, but Miss Asha is here? We were not told of that."

"I need to have a chat with Chief Gant about the police talking with detectives…" muttered Goodman. He turned to Pam, seeing Benny clutch at his heart in the corner of his eye. "If Asha is here, it is imperative that we get her testimony. She was the only person we couldn't question yesterday."

"W-wait, but—" Benny closed his mouth, forehead beading with sweat. Pam raised an eyebrow, an impressively intimidating site.

"Sir, I really must go and question Asha."

"B-but she just got out of the hospital, she needs rest—"

"Don't worry," Pam cut him off with a raised hand. "I'll keep my visit short." She looked at Isha, who was still frozen on the steps. "Miss Isha can come with me, if that would make you feel better."

Goodman didn't like it. Isha could be a nuisance in Wright's questioning. But there was no other option. Goodman could already see the gears turning in Benny's head. The detective noticed that Isha looked more scared than Benny.

"B-Ben, please," Isha stammered. Benny held up a hand.

"No, it's fine. As long as you keep it brief, Detective." Pam nodded. Benny waved to Isha. "She'll take you upstairs. Asha is in one of the guest rooms."

Pam followed Isha up, turning to Goodman before they turned the corner. She was sporting a determined smirk, going so far as to flash him a thumbs up. Perhaps this would be her moment to prove that Asha really did it. Goodman hoped so at least. It was the only person that they hadn't questioned. If all the witnesses were saying they did it, then there was a chance they were all trying to protect Asha.

"Detective Goodman?" He stopped himself from flinching, turning to Benny. The man had now gone to tapping on his knee with his hand. "Did you have any more questions?"

"Yes, sorry." Goodman cleared his throat again. "How close would you say you were to your cousin?"

"Until recently we didn't talk much. He lived pretty far away. We met up at college." Benny's hand curled into a fist and his eyes went glassy. He probably didn't notice what he was doing. "Imagine my surprise when I found out that while I was breaking my back to pay for college, he had gotten in free."

"That must have been a shock."

"Yeah…yeah, but my cousin always got lucky. Every time. He…knew how to talk to people, you know."

Goodman frowned. "Knew how to talk to people?"

"My aunt always said he had a silver tongue, or something like that. He always got what he wanted. Every game, every toy, every car." Benny shook his head, shaggy black hair getting into his eyes. "Even though his family didn't have a lot of money, he still managed to find a way to pull strings."

"You don't sound too fond of him."

Benny's eyes took on a hard edge. "Look, the guy was a jerk, but family is family. Blood is blood."

The two stared at each other, room dropping into silence. Looking into Benny's eyes, Goodman couldn't find it in himself to say he killed the victim. He looked tired, and he seemed upset, but Goodman couldn't believe it was Benny. He leaned back with a sigh, breaking the harsh air.

"I see. Well, if you don't mind—"

"No, Detective." Benny stood, hands in his pockets. "I've answered all the questions you could possibly think of. If you think it's me, then arrest me here and now. I confessed." He held out his hands. "Arrest me, then, and end this mess."

"Sure, I'll just go and arrest everyone who confessed to Deddison's murder," Goodman shot back. "That'll be you and every other person in your posse."

"So do you admit you have no solid evidence against me?" Benny shrugged. "Then kindly retrieve your partner and leave the premises. I go on trial tomorrow, and I would like to try and get some rest before then."

Goodman grit his teeth. He knew he shouldn't have said as much. This really had gotten them nowhere. Hopefully Pam got somewhere with Asha…

"Please no! Stop, put it down!"

The woman's scream had come from up the stairs. The two men only took a second to look at each other before they bolted upstairs. Goodman was taking the stairs two at a time, heart pounding out of his chest. It didn't sound like Pam's voice. Was it one of the other two women? Benny led him to a door, trying the handle to no avail.

"It's locked!" Benny threw himself against the door. It barely budged. It wasn't until Goodman joined him that it broke under the pressure. The two rushed inside, freezing when they saw what was going on.

Isha was crouched near the wall, hand over her mouth. Her eyes were trained on Asha, who was standing in a nightgown. She held a gun in shaky hands, tears streaming down her face. In front of her, maybe two feet away, was Pam. The younger detective had her hands in the air, staring at the gun in front of her with a grimace.

"Don't come a step closer!" Asha yelled, her voice rough from crying. "I'll shoot!"

"Asha, no!" Isha tried to crawl forward but stopped when Goodman held out a hand. The man was cursing five ways to Sunday in his head. Where in the world did she get a gun? Pam's was still in her holster, so Asha must have had her own. "Please." Isha tried speaking again. She must have been the one to yell first. "Put it down, Asha."

"Listen to your friend." Pam tried to take a step forward. She froze when Asha fixed the barrel of the gun at her face. "You don't have to—"

"Shut up! Just…just shut up." Asha sniffed. "Everyone leave! Just leave me alone!"

Goodman felt Benny move forward. He held out an arm, quick to stop him. "Don't," he whispered, eyes never leaving Asha. "Go out into the hall, call the other officers." When Benny didn't immediately move, Goodman gave him a shove. "Go!"

Benny scampered out. Goodman took a deep breath, trying to keep his emotions in check. It was hard though. Asha was obviously distraught. She was a lose cannon, and her barrel was pointed at his rookie. Isha was just as volatile. And Wright, the usually stalwart detective who liked to hide her emotions, had fear in her eyes. But this wasn't Goodman's first day on the job. He was a detective. He could handle this.

The question was, how?

Howdy howdy, it's GBG. I just wanted to give a huge thank you to everyone who has read this story. This story has passed 500 views, which I know is a very small milestone, but sometimes we have to celebrate the small things! I know that most people don't like to read OC stories, so I appreciate everyone who has decided to give this story a try. Anyway, Episode B1 is almost over. Then it's on to Turnabout Sisters! Thanks again, buh-bye!