Chapter 9: Answers and Secrets
"Ah, the heroes have come to visit me." Her words trigger something inside of me. Like a scene out of those films Francis, Kiku, Matthew and Alfred always made me watch with them. And then Alfred would yell, 'that's right!' enthusiastically. I push those memories to the back of my mind.
The five of us walk inside the room and go to stand in front of the cleaning lady, I am far too aware of my phone resting in the pocket of my jumper, recording everything. Benita Irakoze, a Burundian woman, is sitting in front of us. That's all the information we know about her too. Name and ethnicity.
"Don't call us that," Yao bites back at the woman. She has beautiful chocolate brown skin and the face of a queen. In other words, she looks very good for her age. Not at all what I would expect from a serial killer. But that's just my stereotypical thinking speaking up.
For a moment it's silent after that. The five of us just looking at the one who killed our friends, family, lovers… who ruined our lives. But for some reason, she looks sad. For a reason other than having been caught. I can't describe it; I just know it.
"Why did you do it?" Ivan breaks the ice. I would never have had the courage to start like that. But when I look at Ivan, I see a wave of anger boiling in his eyes. And I decide not to comment. I look back at Benita.
"Do what?" Benita coldly replies. Ivan is clearly enraged by her answer. Ludwig lays a hand on his arm to distract him. I decide it could be a better idea if I took the lead. At least I know how to hide my emotions and not let them guide my actions. But just in case, I let my hand search for Laura's. She doesn't protest and gladly entwines our fingers. There, now I can face her.
"He's asking your reasons for targeting mere teenagers every night. He's asking why you killed our classmates and friends," I speak up. Benita now points her gaze at me. Her eyes scan me over, resting on the entwined hands of Laura and me a bit too long.
"I have my reasons," she suddenly seems even colder. "A boy like you would never understand them," she bites as she looks me straight in the eye. I frown at her words. A boy like me? Is that why she targeted only boys except for Erzsébet? Is that why she was the odd one out? Her words are only confirming my suspicions.
"Then, could you explain it to me? Maybe I can understand," Laura now speaks up, taking a little step forward. Benita's gaze softens as she looks at Laura. But then her gaze flickers down to our hands again and her eyes harden again as she then looks up at me once more.
"Oh, I know you will understand. You're a girl after all. But then I might offend your boyfriend. And we don't want to make him angry, do we? Who knows what he might do," Benita speaks much softer to Laura. She even smiles at her. But at the end of her sentence, she looks back at me and her voice turns rougher again. That's when suddenly, something clicks in my mind. The news articles. Her way of looking at boys. Her obvious distaste towards open showing of affection - if holding hands is anything to go by. Now I just need verbal confirmation.
"B-boyfriend?" Laura stutters, clearly embarrassed. But my gaze is glued to Benita as I connect the dots. Thinking about how I best go about this. Carefully or brashly?
"Everyone knows it already, Laura. No need to hide it," Yao comments neutrally. I can feel Laura grip my hand a bit tighter and look up at me. My gaze stays glued on Benita; she stares right back. Laura looks back down. Benita keeps staring at me.
"Say, Benita. Have you had any romances before?" I ask out of the blue. The change on her face is my confirmation. It tells me I'm right. But I need verbal confirmation of the facts.
"Romance?! Love isn't real!" Benita bites back angrily, clearly on the defensive. She speaks from experience. It's clear by her actions.
"I already thought you would say that," I sigh and give her a soft smile. "I understand now." I'll go wild. Throw it all out there.
"Understand what, you filthy boy? And while you're at it, let go of that girl's hand. She's clearly uncomfortable," Benita pulls a bit at the ropes around her wrists. She obviously wants to jump out of that chair and pull Laura and me apart.
"Hey, that's not true," Laura immediately denies and even dares to cling to my arm in response. I smile at her action. It melts my heart. But my gaze stays glued on Benita. Her expression. I'm taunting her now. She's enraged. I've found the motive. And I know how I'm going to get that verbal confirmation. By direct confrontation. I'm sorry, but this has to be done. I wait for the room to be silent again before bracing myself to start acting cold-hearted for a bit.
"You were raped." I start, the silence in the room becomes heavier after my words. "And I believe my room was the room it happened, no? Room 113. The first room you visited." Benita freezes at my words. "But no one believed you, did they? The boy got away with it and your social life was ruined. That's why you came to resent the male sex. That's why you stabbed every one of your victims except for Erzsébet in the crotch. You are now taking revenge and Erzsébet was a mistake. You believe that killing every last boy in this school will save the girls from suffering the same fate as you," I blatantly throw on the table. Benita stares at me with wide eyes and a baffled expression.
"Bingo," I smile softly to myself, Benita looks down in anger. "And let me guess, you practised beforehand? How else could you have perfected the art of slitting people's throats? Did you do it on animals? Or on puppets?" Benita doesn't react. "You've killed people before. Before you came here. Am I wrong?" She looks up and stutters on some meaningless sounds. "And another bingo. Who did you practice it on? Boys?" Benita looks away again. "The ones that were with you in school at the time?" Benita clenches her fists and seems to choke on her own air. "That's a yes," I confirm.
"H-how do you know all of that. I never told anyone," she mutters. I silently look at her and sigh. I softly slide out of Laura's grasp so I can approach Benita. I then stand in front of her chair and look down at her. She looks so devastated. As if she failed her mission. I understand now.
"It's simple really once you have all the pieces of the puzzle. Your own actions and words inside this room just now only confirmed my suspicions," I tell her. I then bend down so I can be below her eye level, and she looks down at me from her bowed position. I look up at her eyes. That sad look is there again. The one I can't describe. But I know it's now being reflected in my own eyes. A Sad look.
"The news articles in your room were all about unsolved rape cases or about cases where a person accused of rape was declared innocent. And two articles really stood out to me yesterday. One half-burned article which was ripped at the edges. I memorized the title and searched it up later. The article was about you, Benita. And about a man named James Brooks. Who just happened to be a close friend of my father at the time." I smile as she perks up a bit and frowns at that. "I doubt this situation could get any weirder myself," I laugh humourlessly as I comment that. I can now finally connect the dots. "Anyways, his name was James Brooks, an American millionaire who didn't deserve his money. He spent it all on whores and gambling. And he never worked a day in his life," I say, remembering the man myself from the times he came to visit my father.
"You- knew him? That monster. Don't tell me he-" Benita looks up a bit as she hears the tone in my voice. I laugh a bit and lean back on my hands. I wisely avoid the topic to which she is subtly referring. I don't want to anger her further, hurt her any further or divert the topic of the conversation.
"The second article that stood out to me, I already knew. I knew it very well truthfully. In fact, it was about my own father, his friend and myself. It was an article from a year and two months ago, on the seventeenth of August. My father and his friend went drinking in a classy pub in London. Late at night, they called my elder brother, Allister, to come to pick them up. Allister dragged me with him, he didn't want to go searching for two drunk men in the middle of London. But when I did find them-" I pause as Benita looks at me with an unreadable expression- "a silhouette stood over the two men, knife in hand and blood soaking their black clothes. And the police never found the culprit." I finish.
"It was you. The witness from that night. If you hadn't been there-" she confirms my words. I chuckle and nod. "I should have stayed and killed you that night," Benita admits to herself, and I only laugh in response.
"Perhaps, yes," I say absentmindedly. "And there is all of the confirmation I needed," I sigh as I stand back up stretching my legs. "That's two murder mysteries solved in-" I look at my watch- "less than thirty minutes. I think that's a world record if I do say so myself," I force a smile on my face as Benita looks up at me. "I had my speculations since yesterday. Thank you for confirming them. I think the authorities will love to hear the recording of this conversation," I casually say as I pull my phone out of my pocket. I show her the screen that shows the recording that is still going.
"You!" Benita is angry again. I just smile at her pitifully. "Do you even know why James Brooks did that?" she asks me angrily. I take a deep breath and think about the man's personality. About the stories he used to tell.
"I can only guess," I reply simply, not wanting to trigger anything but Benita's anger.
"It's because he hated me! He hated the fact that I was so beautiful but that my skin is dark. He was a racist asshole who just did as he wanted," Benita explains to me. Now, she seems desperate. Like she wants to justify her own means. And I gladly listen to her.
"I know, he was an awful man," I agree. She's encouraged by my words.
"And no one believed me! This was also because I am black. They all thought I was just seeking attention or searching for some pity. Because I had no friends. And you know why that was? Because I am black," Benita rants. I silently listen to her. I knew racism was still a very prominent thing in the seventies and eighties. But to this extent? I can only imagine. Benita is crying now. Her trauma goes deeper than just rape. I feel bad for her. But the way she dealt with it is still not healthy.
"I recommend therapy, Benita. It will do you better than revenge," I speak up. Benita looks up at me with teary eyes. "If everyone took an eye for an eye, we would all be blind by now. You would be blind by now. And I would be the one who took your eyes," I explain to her. She sobs and looks down in shame.
"You don't understand," she rambles. "You can't understand," she continues. "You're a white man, you will never understand," she cries. I sigh and turn half away from her.
"I might never understand why you chose to kill children who had nothing to do with your past, no. But I can understand your resentment and anger. I'm human too," I state simply in reply. Benita doesn't say anything anymore. I look down at her for a little bit longer before taking a deep breath and stopping the recording. As I turn around, I see the other four looking at me with a mix of emotions. Truthfully, for a moment, I had forgotten they were here.
"Right, let's leave her alone now. We have what we came for," I say to them.
"I think we need to have a talk tonight," Laura whispers to me as we walk out of the room. Ivan had knocked five times to leave. I nod softly and grab Laura's hand again. I just need some tea.
Benita is being led on the boat by the authorities. I silently watch from the distance. Laura is standing right beside me, our hands holding onto each other again.
"What an end," Laura mutters softly. I hum in agreement.
"We've lost so much to this," I say. "Francis, Alfred, Erzsébet, Sadik, Carlos, Gilbert, Feliks, Toris, Herakles, Matthew, Feliciano, Lovino, Antonio, João, Roderich, Basch, Tim and Luca," I sum up every single one that was killed. "Far too much."
"I feel like saying that I'm glad I'm still alive is cruel," Laura confesses softly as she leans into my side. "But I am. And I'm also glad you're still here with me." She looks up at me. I turn my head to look at her too. She smiles softly.
"I'm glad that we still have each other," I confirm. I lean in and give her a soft kiss. Laura hums happily and turns so she can stand in front of me.
"Boyfriend and girlfriend," she starts. "Has a nice ring to it, no?" she proposes subtly. I smile and hug her closer.
"It does," I agree. I look her in the eyes. "I love you, Laura."
"I love you too, Arthur." Laura smiles brightly. I smile back. This time she leans in first. I smile and eagerly kiss her a little more. I can't help it. My stomach does somersaults, and I just can't get enough of her.
"Hey, love birds. If you don't want to be left alone on this island, you better get aboard too," Ludwig is suddenly there. I look up from kissing Laura and smile at the blonde.
"Right, we better get going," I confirm. I lift up my suitcase and my new jacket. A nice light blue jacket, a little bit short, but perfect for the weather on the boat. Laura laughs.
"That jacket just screams 'Francis'," she jokes. I shrug and start walking to the boat with her and Ludwig.
"I think he would be proud I'm even considering wearing it," I reply with a smirk. I look up at the cloudless sky and my smile turns softer.
"I think Francis would love that you chose to pick it up," Ludwig states.
"He probably would," Laura agrees. The rest of the walk to the boat is silent. But once we're on the boat, a conversation starts up again. The boat isn't as lively as it normally is. But the mood isn't down either.
"Hey, Arthur," Laura calls my name. I look away from my conversation with Ludwig. "What do you think of my new jacket?" she jokes, having donned the light blue jacket and posing as Francis. I laugh and smile at her. I get a weird sense of déja vu, but I shake it off.
"It's wonderful, Laura."
Endnote: And that's a wrap! This story is now officially finished. Thank you to those 10 people who read this and I hope you at least found some mild enjoyment out of this. Or that you had something decent to pass your time with. I take constructive criticism and would love it if you could comment your thoughts about the story. Even if you read this story five years later, I would still appreciate the comment! Even bad thoughts, I'm here to improve! Goodbye! Maybe I'll see you again in another one of my stories.