Chapter forty-seven
"Sir, there's a man and a woman who are shouting about whether anyone have seen a couple of girls that match the description of the ones that you found yesterday," came Ross's voice over the phone. "They're demanding that they speak to Superintendent Grumman and are barely making any sense, but claim to know DCI Mustang. They keep saying that there's been a murder, but won't tell us anything else than the word 'Ferris' and then started shouting about how everyone know who the girls are and won't tell them because th-"
Maes gripped the phone hard, his eyes going wide in horror. "Get them up here pronto and tell them that Maes is going to speak with them."
"Yes, sir."
Maes swore. It would seem that they were about to find out just why the decapitator had been marked 'Envy'. If they had figured out that their serial killer had been targeting Roy and had decided to do a bit of copycat-killing by going after his acquaintances, then that would explain a lot. And if they knew the mystery girl and could talk to her and get her talking again, then they may be able to finally catch their killer within the next few days.
It was forty seconds later that Ross came through the office door with what was undoubtedly Quentin and Mona Ferris, the two of them looking pale and devastated.
"Where are they, Maes?! You've found them, haven't you?!" Mona halfway demanded, halfway sobbed with a silent plea for him to say that it wasn't true.
Maes decided to take things one at a time, and pulled out the photo of the mystery girl and handed it to them. "Is this one of the girls that you were talking about?"
Mona began sobbing loudly, giving Maes a sort of self-disgusted jolt of happiness and relief.
"What's happened to Penny and Verity?!" she demanded, whilst Quentin just looked even paler. He had obviously understood the situation and the fact that they only had that one photo, but wouldn't show them the other one.
"They're dead, aren't they? Our nieces?" the man asked weakly.
Maes needed to get this situation under control, and so it was a bad time for there to be two names that he didn't know belonged to which girl.
He took the picture back. "She's an eyewitness to what happened to your other niece," he decided to say.
The two Ferrises froze, their eyes going wide. "So... So Penny's still... but Verity's..." Quentin said weakly, tears streaming, his wife now sobbing uncontrollably.
Maes had a bad feeling that either Clarence or Tania was dead, if not both.
And so he nodded as Quentin hugged Mona to him. "Penny is refusing to speak, but she's otherwise unharmed, I'll take you to see her afterwards, she's being looked after by Nanna Mustang and one of the country's best child psychologists who often work with the police..." He let the words sink in for the two people before him. "I'm so sorry, but you said that there has been a murder...?"
"It's Ophelia, Mona and Tania's older sister, Penny's her daughter," Quentin said, barely repressing a sob, just as Mona let out a wail into her husband's shoulder.
Maes sighed inwardly in another sick sense of relief. "Can you explain what happened?"
"They were on a girls' trip because they're such good friends and Verity's homeschooled and Penny's school is hosting a seminar this week, so all the students had the week off. We live two hours from here, but when we heard about the explosion earlier today over the radio, we rang Ophelia, that was about half twelve. When we didn't get any answers after four hours of trying, we decided to drive over and check on them... Ophelia... She... her head..."
Maes sighed heavily. "I'm so sorry."
Quentin just nodded weakly, and Maes looked towards Ross. "Give PC Ross the address, and I'll have a quick word with Grumman before we'll go to see Penny."
Damien swore inwardly as he put down the phone after speaking with Grumman, and then quickly walked over to Georgina and the now identified girl's room. The old woman was sitting there in the bed next to the girl, the latter asleep. He signed quickly at her who she was, and that Quentin and Mona would be arriving shortly. Georgina began crying immediately, and Damien told her that he'd be telling the Ferrises the truth about who he was, and also that they shouldn't wake the girl because she was finally sleeping heavily after barely having slept at all the night before.
He had only just finished delivering the message when there came a knock on the door, and he braced himself and walked over to open it. He was met by Maes, Quentin and Mona. Quentin had stopped being a runt and was almost six feet tall, although he was of the type that had grown in height and not in width. Mona was about the same height as Riza, and she had a lot of kindness to her features.
And right now, both of them were looking at him with tears streaming down their cheeks.
He decided to forgo the formalities because he knew that Mona had never been one for delaying the inevitable. "She's asleep right now, and I think it's best for her if she can stay so, considering how the previous night went. So please sit down here on the couch with me, even if I don't have more to offer at the moment than what you've already been told."
"I'm gonna head out to the hospital to talk with Roy and see if he can be temporarily released in order to be here to watch when you talk to her tomorrow," Maes said. Grumman had told him that the Ferrises already knew about how the killer had been murdered the day before by the serial killer.
Mona and Quentin nodded, and then she extended her hand to Damien as soon as the door was shut behind them. "I-I'm Mona Ferris, thank you for spending so much time looking after our n-niece," she said weakly.
Damien took her hand in his, and gave them a pained look and a deep sigh. "I was already here when Maes brought her in and there is really no need to thank me, Mona... I owe Roy my life and I owe you and Quentin a profound apology for all the crap that I gave you for being freaks, without explaining that that was the highest compliment I actually knew at the time."
The two Ferrises froze, eyes widening and looking an odd sort of terrified.
Damien pulled out his wallet from his back trouser pocket and slid out a photo from inside the hidden room inside the wallet. He handed them the picture from when Dad and him had finished the main building of the house thirteen years previously. Dad had his arm around his shoulders, both of them smiling in front of the cream-coloured, freshly painted house, Dad with a sunhat and Damien with a red cap, both of them with jeans and a white T-shirt each and a pair of wide grins. "I'm Damien Fitzgerald, aka Mikhail Antonov, aka Mikey Witkinson for the year we lived at the orphanage before I supposedly died from an undiscovered congenital heart disease, aka Xander Benson, and I guess you can recognise who that is next to me."
Mona and Quentin stared at the picture, and Damien had to say that as distraction tactics went, this was a rather efficient one.
"You... You're actually... You're actually a-alive and... and you're...?"
"Roy sort of figured out fourteen years ago that Dad was an illegal immigrant from Drachma when he came to stop us in the classroom that day... I'd had enough and saw a golden opportunity to get to spend some time with Dad on a more or less daily basis as my Dad, rather than just my teacher or as the man that I wasn't allowed to visit unless my psychotic mother said I could do so... Roy, however, being the freak that he is, he heard from a single vowel that Dad was Drachman, tracked him down, got threatened with a gun and drugged by my mother. My plan hadn't involved Roy finding out that I was being held hostage by my mother's drug syndicate accomplices, though, 'cos I hadn't counted on him having studied Drachman or wanting to be a cop. His family, Maes and Izumi and her uncle were stalked by some of my mother's other accomplices, and they didn't like it much, and next thing I knew, that hag was bound and gagged by a triumphant Jim Walsh."
The two people that he was talking to just stood there in complete silence, still staring at the picture.
"I'm truly sorry about all the things I did and said to you during those six years... I was an angry hostage who got to spend more time with Dad the less nice I was at school... I-I hated my life and that day when I sprained Roy's elbow it was because I was trying to manipulate the situation because I knew that he'd go to Dad and suggest summer schooling in exchange for me not being expelled after all... I was actually looking forwards to it once I learnt the truth about how Roy wanted to be a cop... To get to become sort of friends with Roy, and almost like a big brother, but it never got any further than four hours and then witness protection... I know it sounds far-fetched, and please feel free to-"
He didn't get any further before Mona slapped his cheek as if reading his mind.
And then hugged him and sobbed into his chest.
Quentin looked up at him with tears in his eyes. "No wonder he was so broken up at the funeral... I didn't really understand it, we thought he blamed himself for getting you killed..." He chuckled shakily. "Never thought I'd see Xander Benson cry."
Damien only then noticed his own wet cheeks, and he hugged Mona tighter with a heavy sigh. "I'm so sorry."
"How's he doing these days?" Quentin asked, still holding the picture. He was one of those that had openly sobbed at the funeral, according to Maes.
"He went and lost his leg six years ago whilst saving a couple of kids from a burning building and he's referring to himself as 'Giddy' now, seeing as how he's my 'Uncle', Gideon Fitzgerald."
The two Ferrises began laughing.
It was the laughter of someone clinging to whatever funny things they could get to keep them from drowning in their grief.
Roy looked up at the sound of knocking on his door, holding Dad's letter in his hand. Maes immediately opened the door and strode in, looking worried and disgusted by whatever he was about to tell Roy. "What's wrong?" Roy asked, seeing Maes pause at his undoubtedly tearful and red face.
"We found out just why the body was marked 'Envy'... Turns out that they saw fit to be a copycat killer based on the killer that we're chasing's MO. Meaning that we've identified the girls as Verity Ferris Thompson and Penelope Dixon-James... Furthermore, Ophelia Dixon-James was killed too by the copycat killer before they killed Verity."
Roy froze, eyes going wide. "No," he stated firmly in disbelief. He had met Ophelia on many occasions, including birthdays, cabin trips and during the double wedding when Mona had married Quentin and Tania had married Clarence. Roy hadn't been close friends with Ophelia, but they had got along whenever they had met. And he had heard about both Verity and Penny at some point or other, but Ophelia had been supposed to be living in Central.
It just couldn't be true.
It couldn't be.
Because it would mean that the copycat killer had become 'Envy' because he had copied the way that their killer was toying with Roy.
And now two people were dead and a teenage girl was scarred for life because of how they were associated with Roy. "Ophelia lives in Central," he stated numbly. "Together with her husband, daughter and two sons."
"They were having a girls' trip to East City because of how Penny's school is hosting a seminar this week so she's got no school," came a familiar and strained voice, and Roy froze, looking up at Quentin as he came walking inside the room.
Roy moved to get out of his bed immediately, only to almost come crashing down to the floor sideways as the abrupt movement made him almost black out for a few seconds. He found Riza holding on to his uninjured arm to steady him, and he gasped slightly with pain from the sharp jerk that his manoeuvre had caused. His head began pounding and his arms prickled as his vision slowly cleared again. He was panting heavily as he was lowered back to the pillows and groaned slightly as his shoulder made contact with the pillow once more.
"Mona's back at the hotel and I'm here to tell you not to be stupid as you're obviously gonna start blaming yourself, knowing you..." Quentin said as he came back into focus, now having moved to stand next to Roy, apparently having swapped places with Riza during his pained daze. "...And to keep you from doing something so stupid as to demand to be released from the hospital tonight so that you can come to talk to us and apologise for things that you really have no reason to apologise for."
"Quentin, you d-"
He wasn't allowed to finish his sentence before he was fixed with a stern look from the red eyes that were unusually small due to his glasses. He looked desperate and grieving. "I know what you're gonna say, dammit! That this is your fault because this is because we're your friends, but that's not how this works! They might have been killed because of how we're associated with you, but as long as you never wanted that to happen, then this isn't your fault! If you haven't noticed, you're a victim too!" Then he slapped Roy hard, looking completely tormented. "I mean look at you! You're lucky to be alive and that your arm is the only thing that got messed up today! We're talking ten more inches, and it would have gone straight through your heart! You could have flown differently and died with that rebar having gone straight through your throat! You could have had it go into your eyeball! And I know that you're blaming yourself for getting attacked too, but it's bullshit! Complete bullshit!" He slapped Roy hard again and then grabbed him by the front of his hospital shirt. "You're a fucking hero, you stupid arsehole! It's not your fault that you putting criminals behind bars makes people angry! You're not telling anyone to commit crimes for you to solve! So don't you dare suggest that this is your fault, Mustang! DON'T YOU DARE!" He shook Roy slightly by the front of his shirt, and he gasped loudly with pain, fisting his right hand hard around his sheets.
Quentin dropped him like he had been burnt, making Roy gasp again with a slight groan. His friend's eyes went wide in horror. "O-oh dear, I-I'm so sorry, Roy..." he said shakily, paling completely.
Roy breathed heavily through clenched teeth. The actions had not been nice on his arm at all, and he tried to keep his breathing steady as he spoke, though his right fist was still clenched just as hard around his sheets. "Riza, Maes, please leave the room..." he said with tears of both pain, fear and grief in his eyes. "We'll be fine..."
The door was shut within seconds and Quentin was just standing there above him, looking completely horrified by his own actions, tears streaming down his cheeks. "Roy, I-"
Roy just shook his head. "Bring me a new glass of water and we're even. It takes some time to get cold, so you need to let it run for about ten seconds or so."
"Lucky how your fiancée already placed a new glass by the foot of your bed while your head was clearing up, then," Quentin said and handed it to Roy with his hand trembling violently. "I'm so sorry, I really didn't mean to hurt you, I just-"
Roy drank the whole thing to give himself some time to get his breathing back under control. "You met Damien, didn't you?"
His friend nodded shakily, pain flashing in his eyes. "He told us about his... His uncle..."
Roy felt a stab of pain as his stomach clenched even harder. "...Which is why I didn't tell you to stop, because you needed to tell me what was on your heart, swears and all... I have barely ever heard you swear in my life before now..." He chuckled slightly, only to wince and stop immediately as it shook his arm. "He seems to have that effect on people, I uttered my first profanity too because of him, though that one was in unison and earned me a gun to the back of my head."
His friend looked at him sadly and sat down on the bed next to his own, leaning forwards on his elbows. "That's why you were so broken up about it that day..."
Roy remembered how much it had broken Quentin's heart. He had almost idolised his teacher because of the way that he would always get shunned for being the runty, myopic, half-Ishbalan nerd. But Mr Witkinson had never seen anything but an unusually bright student and hadn't ever treated him like his heritage and skin colour affected his worth.
"...I got a hug from him once, you know..." Quentin said quietly. "It was when Mum got cancer and there was so much that felt wrong and there were all the Ishbalan rituals and she had to go back to Ishbal for both the surgery and the recovery period afterwards because of family traditions, but I didn't want to go back there and I had school anyway... So one day I just knocked on his office door during break time and I said 'can we please talk, Mr Witkinson? Mum and Dad are in Ishbal and so it's just me and my big sister and it's weird to talk to her about all of it.' I broke down into sobs about five seconds after I'd uttered that sentence... It was a good hug... Is he still good at those?"
"I spent five minutes just standing by the front door, sobbing against his chest, only yesterday, and I can confirm that he's extremely good at them... Sounds odd, I know, when you didn't ever know about what really happened that day..."
"Actually, I'm mostly just jealous in a weird way..." Quentin told him, looking down. "Damien showed us a picture of the year after they moved... Mr Witkinson was smiling in a way that I haven't ever seen before..."
Roy felt odd. As far as Quentin had known up till then, Mr Witkinson had just been Roy's teacher, and had it only been like that, then yesterday's events would have been creepy and weird. "There was a lot that happened that afternoon... A lot... He misunderstood my words and spent two hours preparing himself to be a father figure to me... He took his role really seriously because he felt like he had dragged me into hell with him and that he had a duty to me to give me someone to look after me in said hell as a responsible grownup... He's got a lot of fatherly instincts that he had to suppress for nine years and he was thrilled, and ashamed of being so, about the way that the then Mikhail could get a little brother of sorts. Get some of what Andrei Antonov himself lost when he came here." Tears were beginning to stream down his cheeks.
"It makes sense that things changed so much, considering how you were just a kid, and an impressionable one at that... He cared deeply about his students."
"Trust me, he still does... He asked me how you guys were doing and laughed himself silly at the fact that you and Clarence married a twin each and that Clarence is now painting fjords, mountains and wildlife in Norway in between writing biology books with his wife where he provides the drawings of the things that Tania describes... He asked me to get him a copy of at least one of those books, they're a series of three that have been translated to English by now, aren't there?"
"So he knows how to read English?"
"Yep... He's fluent in five languages, though I don't think he'd mind it if he could get a direct Amestrian translation. Me neither, for that part."
Quentin swallowed heavily in an obvious attempt at repressing a sob. "Mona's calling them to tell them about what's happened..."
"I'm so sorry," Roy whispered.
His friend shook his head. "Just please promise me that you'll catch the ones who almost got you too killed today..." He looked at Roy pleadingly.
"I'm doing everything that I can, I swear."
Quentin nodded, and then began laughing shakily after a few seconds. "Thanks, it wouldn't do to have you die, Mona and I were actually going to come visit you tomorrow evening to ask you for a favour... You've been very bad at keeping us updated these past few weeks... Here we thought you were single and so we got a bit bold because we know you well enough based on what we assumed your living situation was like..."
He removed his foggy glasses and wiped his eyes on his sleeve and his glasses on his shirt, before placing them back on his nose. "Ishbalan traditions mixed with a superstitious Dad meant that we didn't tell you about it last year when we went back to Ishbal for six months." He pulled out a picture and handed it to Roy. It showed a couple of babies with brown skin, red eyes and dark brown hair. "We were planning to ask you to be their guide parent, meaning that Dad's own superstitious beliefs were mixed with the way that tradition required that the final six months of Mona's pregnancy needed to be in Ishbal so as to leave them blessed upon birth, and I'd rather not have Mum be heartbroken and scared of her un-blessed grandchildren. And so Dad decided that if we were going to ask you, then we weren't allowed to ask you until three months after they were born. Apparently springing them on you with a picture was a way to prove your suitability to be appointed guide parent to his grandkids. It has to do with how a bachelor like you who's got a respectable job, a big house with no mortgage, no money problems and with a good heart and a good mind, should be able to make up their mind within the hour of whether to accept or decline, and if they haven't, then they obviously don't prioritise his grandkids enough for Dad to want you to have that responsibility."
Roy was more than a little stunned, thinking it through. It was odd about the way that some of his best friends not telling him that they were having children was actually a big compliment, because it meant that they really wanted him to be guide parent to their kids.
Quentin interrupted him before he could answer. "We don't see it that way, though, and we wanted to give you a few days because you'll be meeting Dad at the... the funeral... I know that this is horrible timing, and especially with your arm and the fact that you're in the middle of a trying murder case, you've just got engaged because you might be getting a baby of your own, you're adopting a couple of traumatised kids and thinking clearly is hard... But I just wanted to give you a heads-up before Dad springs it on you instead at the funeral..."
A small smile reached Roy's lips. "...But most of all because you'd rather I give you the answer before they find out that I am technically engaged to a married woman?"
"Yeah, that too."
Roy looked down at the picture in his hand. They were cute, there was no doubt about that. And it scared him, thinking about how there might be another kid of his own on the way. "I'd like to, yes, but I need to discuss it with Riza and the boys first... I'd be breaking their trust if I just accepted to do something like that without even consulting them."
"Of course, Roy. Like I said, the timing's awful and you're not exactly a bachelor who's got spare time to use on the kids, not when you've suddenly got a pair of boys yourself... We're moving back to East City in just under a year, Mona's got a play that they'll be performing here at the East City Playhouse then, so you technically don't even need to give us an answer before that point."
Roy smiled weakly over at his friend. "That's going to be nice, at least. We'll be able to meet up more often, then."
He received a smile in return. It was tearful but genuine. "It's not like appointing a guide parent is obligatory or necessary, really, either. Our plans were basically to ask you or just not do it at all... We're strictly speaking already pushing it, considering how there isn't such a thing in the Ishbalan culture, but Dad's not from there and the kids are only one-fourth Ishbalan, so it just about works... We just wanted to incorporate you a bit more into our family, considering how you're a childhood friend whilst my relationship to the rest of our little gang are brother-in-law, sister-in-law and wife."
Roy smiled back. It was a bit awkward, that, what with how he had once been the one who had appeared to one day end up marrying Tania. She had been Roy's first girlfriend when he had been between the last two months of when he had been sixteen and three months after turning seventeen, and they had thereby been dating for five months, before ending their relationship and reverting back to being friends instead soon after they had slept together for the first and last time. It had been for the simple reason that they had spent half the time thinking back to that time when they had done the pretend-wedding at age nine for Roy and ten for Tania at Quentin's cabin. Which had further resulted in their act of lovemaking being stopped by the two of them laughing their heads off at reminiscing about stick sword fights and not taking themselves seriously at all. They had been too good friends to be romantic partners, in an odd way, and so they had been very happy about going back to being friends. It had been just a week later that Roy had recommended that Clarence ask Tania out, which he had, albeit with a bit of initial awkwardness about doing so. But he had followed Roy's intuition, and it had gone splendidly. Clarence had been a bit nervous about how their yearly trip to Quentin's cabin would become awkward, especially because of how they would go swimming in just their swimwear in the lake as the yearly 'there's nothing wrong with your scars, Roy, nor your skin colour, Quentin'-pep talk, but they hadn't had any trouble with it.
But, judging from what had happened, that cabin was now the scene of Ophelia's death. It made sense that the girls' trip would happen at the one building that the Ferrises owned here in East City, and it had been remote and easy to force one's way into because there weren't any neighbours. But it all pointed towards Ophelia being killed first, but without Penny and Verity's knowledge, and then the two girls had been tracked down and killed as well.
And the fact that they had been out on their own like that was suddenly making a lot of sense, because it had been Ophelia's birthday yesterday, so they had probably been there to buy her a present.
In an effort at keeping their conversation going, Quentin spoke up again. "She seems nice, you know... Riza, that is. She seems like a good fit for you."
"Giddy thinks so too..." Roy thought back to the note on the train and blushed slightly. "He's actually pretty cheeky and prone to swearing, did you know? He even bought a dog because it has my haircut and it's a Yorkie so it's got 'Roy' backwards in it and it's named after his brother and Damien."
Roy froze, seeing Quentin's eyes widening. They were both trying to keep the conversation going by saying the first thing that popped into their minds, but it also meant that Roy was drugged and speaking a bit too soon without thinking it through. "Oh, damn it, I actually said that out loud..."
"A dog? He's bought a Yorkie because it's got your haircut?" Quentin asked incredulously.
Roy just nodded slowly, but then decided that he might as well just tell him to cheer Quentin up a bit. "He's actually just about as cheeky as Clarence, if not even more so... Riza and I were planning on going on a date yesterday, but then the night train was running as normal, and I was given Giddy's shirt as a sort of token, and as we sat on the train and Riza pulled it out of my suitcase, she found that he had put a small packet of condoms and a note inside a pocket, and the note said 'As an alternative to the date that you two had to cancel. Have fun, young man.'"
Quentin's eyes widened even further. "Seriously?"
Roy nodded, and then had a thought strike him. "The boys are speaking with him on the phone right now, if you'd like to talk to him, then you can."
"...I-I... Are you sure?"
Roy nodded again. "Just keep it in mind that officially, Penny's dead, so you are talking to Ed and Al's psychologist because you could really use it too, since that's the story about who they're supposedly talking to for so long. We don't wanna have the nurses get suspicious or confused about the boys speaking with Giddy, because he's supposed to be little more than a stranger that I got along with well... And please don't call him Mr Witkinson, it's better to get used to him being Gideon Fitzgerald as soon as possible so that you won't risk slipping up at a really bad time."
Quentin nodded shakily back at him, tears streaming down his cheeks once more. "I-I'd like that very much."
"Then we can go find them right away." Roy noticed that he still held the picture of Quentin's twins. "They're the reason that you insisted on doing the cabin trip so early last year, aren't they?"
"Yeah... Their names are Richie and Ruthie."
Roy froze. "You... You named them after Mum and Dad?"
"We figured it fit them and that it could make you too a more permanent figure in our family since you got sort of left out when we all moved away and became wives and husbands and siblings-in-law." He paused slightly, frowning. "Although I think you really ought to talk with Riza about you and Tania, just in case it should come up later because it could make you look like a playboy when phrased wrong."
Roy nodded, knowing what he was talking about. Tania and Riza were rather similar on some points, but not on all. And it was the thing that had made it work with Riza, and not with Tania: Riza knew how Roy's mind worked and liked it in addition to just being compatible with it like Tania had been. Their minds were a perfect fit as a couple, but that just hadn't been the same story with Tania.
Giddy was standing there, his hand clenched around the phone, itching to just pack his bags, pull on his jacket and storm out of the house and find his way to East City on the night train. It left later in the weekends and wouldn't leave for another two hours, so at least he'd be able to send Roy a couple of inconspicuous shirts. It only made sense, Roy had had two of his shirts ruined during his trip: the one that had been used during the calving and the one with the cider stain that just didn't want to get out of the fabric. Giving him two new ones that fitted Roy's current physical state was merely logical.
It felt odd to speak to Ed and Al again. They had grown a lot during these past eight years. And it was still like a stab to the gut to think about how Trisha had been literally butchered.
And it both thrilled him to think about how he'd be seeing Roy, Riza and the boys so often when Ed would be getting his automail, but also saddened him because of the agony that the young boy would be facing.
And there was the horror. The horror of the fact that Roy had got his arm so injured right after they had parted company. He knew that it was stupid and selfish and counterproductive, but he still couldn't help but feel like he was some form of curse on the boy. He had met Roy again, and it had given Roy an inspiration for something that had become a theory that he had then acted on, and now Roy's arm was out of commission for months as a result.
Giddy wanted so badly to blame himself for this, but he had spent the past two decades with his son drilling it into his mind that as long as a chain reaction was unintentionally set in motion where people got hurt, and without it being due to neglect on one's part, then what others chose to do during that chain reaction wasn't one's fault. And then there was the fact that the inspiration that Roy had got from their meeting would probably end up saving lives because now Roy had a new theory that appeared to be correct, judging from the events that morning.
But problem still was that Roy was putting himself in the line of fire on his quest for a serial killer that, based on reading between the lines of his words from the day before, was already killing people in order to get at him. And Giddy wanted to protect him, but he knew from personal experience that that didn't really work in cases like these, and Roy was his own man. A grownup who was in charge of his own life and who made his own choices. And Giddy was proud of him, and he knew that he did have a right to claim that he was partially responsible for Roy's success, and intentionally at that. A tiny, tiny bit of Roy's success, that was, because he had still been Roy's favourite teacher for three years, and he had provided Roy with support and additional material to nurture his talents that he knew that none of his colleagues would have done.
And so he would do something similar now. He'd provide the Elrics with what they wanted and needed to know, stay available on the phone and send some shirts. He wanted to rush to East City, but that was pure stupidity, especially as Roy was being targeted, meaning that this strange new arrival could be targeted too, meaning that Giddy could be exposed and thereby put a lot of people on the list of potential targets for some very dangerous criminals.
His train of thought was interrupted by Ed's voice in his ear. "Hey, hold on for a sec, somebody's knocking..."
There was an exchange of indiscernible words for about twenty seconds, and then Ed spoke to him again, sounding a lot more scared and horrified than just a few seconds ago, making a lump of dread form in Giddy's stomach. "Seems like we need to go, something's come up, but there's someone here who wants to talk to you."
Giddy paused at that, getting an extremely bad feeling, and nodded. "Yes, of course, and please call me if you have more questions, I'm happy to help."
"Yeah, thanks, I probably will."
Giddy wanted instinctively to drag it out slightly, but could hear that the boy wanted and needed to get off the phone, and so he decided to make it short. "No need to thank me, now you boys take care of yourselves and give Riza and Roy a good hug each from me, goodbye."
"Mhm, bye," the boy said quickly, and it was a few seconds of unintelligible exchanging of words in the background, a faint thump of a door being closed and locked, and then an unfamiliar voice spoke up, his words slightly choked with tears.
"Hello, Mr Fitzgerald, I-I'm Quentin Ferris..."
Giddy swore inwardly. Quentin was one of those students that was extremely hard to forget, and it had nothing to do with the boy's half-Ishbalan heritage. He was one of the shiest, yet brightest students that he had ever taught, and who had always had his heart on his sleeve. Giddy remembered the sweet, young boy whose Ishbalan heritage had always been a burden to him, rather than a source of pride. And especially the conversation that the two of them had had one time that he had promised the young boy never to tell a living soul, and where the boy had in turn sworn not to tell anyone else what Giddy had told him.
Quentin had come to him during lunch one day, crying about how he was afraid that his mother would die because of Ishbalan traditions demanding that she have her surgery to remove the tumour be performed in the holy land. He had been alone with his big sister, and he hadn't felt like he could talk to her about it all, and especially because he had lost his faith in Ishbala. He had said something about sleeping better knowing that there wasn't some divine being that would choose to let things happen like the explosion that had killed Roy's parents. Giddy had had his mind flooded by the mental pictures of his brother and his son, and had spoken almost in a growl about how he didn't blame him for thinking like that. Quentin had been scared stiff about how his teacher had had a couple of tears run down his own cheeks, and so Giddy had decided to hug him in order to tell him how it was all right and that he wasn't angry so as not to leave his pupil scared of him or thinking that he had done something wrong. He had proceeded to tell the young boy about how his own girlfriend had died during childbirth, leaving her parents to shove his bastard child at him and not wanting anything to do with him, and then how Mikey had died at age three from a congenital heart disease. And so Matthew Witkinson had had a friend help him out by letting him move into his grandfather's cabin, free of charge, which was when he had begun teaching.
He had finished by telling the boy about how his point was that one lost people, and that was just how the world worked, but Roy Mustang, for instance, still kept moving, because one ought to cherish the good moments in ones life. He hadn't given him any words of encouragement about how it would all be all right, because he couldn't know such things. And so he had instead told him to just keep moving no matter what, and treasure those good things he got. Quentin had appreciated the complete honesty of his words, and had needed the hug most of all, as well as the promise about the world not ending even if things went wrong with his mother's surgery.
"I had a teacher who told me some very wise words once," came Quentin's tearful voice at the other end. "I think they ring true more than ever, considering what just happened... And you sound like a wise man, too, Mr Fitzgerald, judging from what Roy just told me... Would it be all right if we talked a bit ourselves?"
Roy was feeling extremely bad about this as he told the boys that he'd explain in a few minutes and sent them back to his room and asked for a private word with Hughes and Riza. He would always think about his best friend as 'Hughes' when it was work-related, though he still called him 'Roy', but that was because it was just how his personality worked. And so they borrowed another empty office and Roy sat down in the nearest visitor chair, not needing to be told to take it easy. "Riza, I want you and Hughes to go to the crime scene while I talk to Ed and Al and bring them up to speed a bit about what's just happened, while Hughes does the same with you. I know it seems a bit odd to have an IA officer go to a crime scene like this, but fact still remains that this is linked to the case and I don't think it's such a bad idea when the crime scene contains several pictures of myself."
Riza paused slightly at that, and Roy decided to save her the trouble of asking by just continuing to speak himself. "I used to go there for a fortnight each summer with Quentin, Mona, Tania and Clarence, and that means that there are framed pictures of us on the wall in the basement, one from each year, as well as a few from their double wedding where I was best man."
"Superintendent Grumman is taking over for you at the crime scene," Maes told him. "I spoke with him earlier when Mona and Quentin turned up at the station, and we figured that it wasn't a bad idea that you, considering how you're the leader of the investigation and he used to be your partner and mentor, were to have him take over for you a bit because you two have an easy time working together and he knows Riza and the boys as well. This is an unusual case where you have obviously got an enemy who probably won't be too happy if someone else were to take over the case because of how they like to taunt you." He looked a bit awkward. "So we've got someone to take over for Superintendent Grumman for the next few weeks. We went with someone whom we can trust completely no matter what, and DCI Miles is going to take over for her."
Roy froze.
It seemed like Olivier Mira Armstrong was going to glare at him and his arm quite a lot for the next few weeks. And yet...
"That's actually a pretty brilliant idea if we're in the middle of a giant corruption case, because she's not going to let herself be bribed and she's not one to let sentiment leave any stones unturned."
"That's what we thought too. It's not going to look too suspicious, either, considering how North City CID is easily the most intimidating there is, so people won't find it to mean that the Ice Queen's absence means that they can have a bit more freedom."
And so Roy nodded. "Good. Then you'll be meeting Grumman at the crime scene and then meet me back here once you're done."
"What about Quentin?"
Roy smiled weakly at that, but with his stomach clenching hard at the same time. "He's staying here until you're able to drive him back to the hotel after you return. Mona obviously also sent him here to keep me company while you're gone, also so as to let the boys get some sleep without feeling like they need to keep me company... Mona needs to talk to Damien, and alone, because she just lost her big sister and needs to prepare herself to speak to her niece, and she and Quentin only get restless and worried if none of them keeps me company in the beginning after all this. They need to feel useful to the investigation, this is how."
Riza had a both fond and sad smile on her face at his words. "Then you are in good hands, though you're planning to go somewhere else too while Quentin is on the phone, aren't you?"
An odd sort of warmth spread through his stomach at her words. "You're getting pretty good at reading me... Quentin's gonna be talking on the phone for a long time, so I thought I'd bring the boys with me to the patient library on the third floor so that they could pick something out for themselves and I can also find a book that I can read to them..." He bit his lip, before sighing. "There's a series of books about a group of three kids that solve mysteries that I used to have Pappy read to Maes and me all the time when I stayed here after the explosion. It fitted well with when I had decided to become a cop, and I just... I figured that tradition's nice to uphold, only that this time I've still got one arm working, so I can read it to two kids, one of which hasn't any arms working..."
Maes laughed at that. "I remember those, we loved them, that's a great idea!"
Roy smiled and nodded. "Then we've got a plan."
Roy was in pain and was trying to keep up a strong façade as he walked inside the room, though he could tell that the boys were able to see that he was in pain. "...Right, boys, it's gonna be just the three of us until Quentin finishes on the phone, which is gonna take a while..." he began as he sat down on the edge of his bed, repressing a grunt. "...Because it turns out that someone else was killed yesterday, which is why those girls were alone... And that the one that's in the hotel room is the daughter of Mona and Tania's big sister, and the other girl was Quentin's niece... And the newly discovered body is Mona and Tania's big sister."
He could tell that Al felt like his stomach had dropped to the floor as tears began streaming down the young boy's cheeks, and he got off the bed and hugged Roy's good arm tightly. "I'm so sorry," Al whispered.
"Yes, I am too, Al..." Roy told him with a heavy sigh and a kiss to the top of his head. He didn't fail to notice how Al paused slightly at the display of affection. It made sense, he hadn't had anyone other than Roy and Riza do so since their mother's passing. "Which is why I wanted to ask you two for some help in cheering me up slightly by joining me in the hospital library and bring some books back here that Pappy read a lot to Maes and me after the explosion, and that I would like to read to you two in turn now."
"That sounds good..." Ed said quietly, looking sad and just a bit torn about all the emotions that were pulsing through him. The kid had an extreme amount of things on his mind, but most of all, Roy had a feeling that it had to do with showing how grateful he was for the way that he'd be getting automail. "Let's go, it's getting late, and if those books are as good as you say they are, then we should get started on them right away, you're not staying in this place for too long, it seems."
Roy smiled with a slight sigh, still feeling an odd sort of emptiness at the thought of what had happened. There was the numbness of denial. Disbelief. And fear. "Yes, you're right about that," he said, getting to his feet as Al released his arm after squeezing it a bit extra as in an answer to his request. "Thank you, boys."
Ed shrugged and Al hugged Roy's arm again, before letting go as they exited the room. Roy gave a small nod at PCs Ross and Brosh, having already told them where he intended to go now after fetching the boys, and his two colleagues followed them from a bit of distance. About ten metres to be exact.
They didn't talk much as they made their way through the corridor, and Roy mostly just explained a bit more about the books, seeing that he had certainly piqued at least Al's interest, which boded well for how they'd probably end up reading all nine books as Roy also had the entire collection in his basement library. He didn't fail to notice how some people were looking like they were trying to place where they had seen Roy before, most likely based on how they had seen a picture of him in the papers.
And so they found their way inside the hospital library, and Roy paused, realising that he didn't really know his way around here. It had been recently renovated and there was a rather large amount of books.
And that they weren't sorted at all because patients tended to place them everywhere, plus the librarians and nurses would put several books in the numerous trolleys to bring semi-randomly to the different wards. "Boys, why don't you and PC Ross search the trolleys and PC Brosh and I take the bookcases?" Ross was more kid-friendly, he knew, so he figured that that was the safest option right now.
"Okay!" Al said, quickly joined by Ross, and Roy walked down to the other corner of the room, followed by Brosh, whom he told to go through the shelves on the other side of the room. Roy noticed a security officer sorting through the books on the bottom shelf, and he walked over to ask if he had seen any of the books that they were looking for. Then he paused about a metre away from him, getting a suddenly bad feeling. One that involved turning his back on the man to not be a particularly bright idea. Nor raise his voice.
And the security officer seemed to be thinking the same thing as he spoke up. "Can I help you, sir?"
Roy froze. He knew that voice. The man had been his partner for four months just two years ago. "Yes, I underwent surgery for my arm earlier today and I lose my balance a bit easily because of the painkillers, so do you think you could help me find some books?"
"Of course, I'd be more than happy to," Isaac McDougal said, looking over his shoulder up at him. There was a lot of anger in his eyes as he stood up. "What are you looking for?"
And so Roy told him, receiving a word of confirmation about where the man thought he might have seen at least one of the books. He lowered his voice to a low whisper as he spoke to his old work partner. "This is about your fiancée, isn't it?" He remembered that case full well, it had turned out that Isaac's fiancée Cecilia, a DC at the time, had killed the grandfather of an old friend of hers as she was entitled to some of the money. She had abused her position as a member of CID early on in the case in order to try and frame her friend's mother, and because of how she had tampered with the evidence, they had reached a standstill for over three weeks. But then Roy had noticed a tiny detail that had got them moving again, and which had revealed the killer within a few days afterwards. Isaac had been heartbroken and horrified, and yet he had asked that he get to carry out the arrest, mostly to prove to himself how he thought it to have been unforgivable and didn't approve of it one bit. Roy hadn't borne any hard feelings towards him, not when it hadn't been his fault at all, and had been more than willing to keep working with him. He had been a bright and earnest officer who could have reached far, but he had handed in his resignation papers within a fortnight. Roy had been extremely sad about it and had insisted on taking him out for a beer afterwards and write him a letter of recommendation for whatever he would choose to do next for a living, highlighting his many good qualities. They had parted without any hard feelings, and Isaac had even thanked him. And so this really didn't make any sense.
"As sharp a mind as ever, Mustang, even with all those painkillers they've put into your system," Isaac told him with a low growl.
"Isaac, what's happened? Why did you attack me earlier today?" He felt a sharp stab of terror at the thought of how the boys might be in severe danger right now. The man was clever. Clever enough to know that Roy would come here at this hour. They had worked together and they knew each other's minds and the man was one hell of a strategist at times. He hadn't been sloppy today, he had planned it all out in detail, all the way down to changing his voice as he had yelled. The man had served in the military for a few years, before joining the force after being honourably discharged at the completion of his enlistment period, hence his familiarity and competence with the grenades. His analytical skills were superb and if he hadn't resigned two years ago, then he would probably still have been working with Roy. But working here had given the man an excellent opportunity to sneak into the hospital unnoticed and prepare for this little semi-ambush.
"Don't try to fool me, Mustang, you know full well why."
"Actually, no, I honestly don't." He was confused, and it was making him more and more alarmed at the way that the man was reacting to his words. He wasn't to be persuaded, and Isaac had had no qualms about what he had done today.
"You know what you did."
"Isaac, I really don't know what you're talking about... Now please tell me who hired you, you're in severe danger because you are dealing with a ruthless and manipulative criminal."
He earned a low and bitter chuckle at that.
"What exactly is it that you think I've done?"
"Cecilia always told me not to trust you, Mustang... That she was innocent... But I believed in you and not her, and so I lost my fiancée and my job because the promising young officer, the golden boy DI Roy Mustang, didn't like to have his reputation tainted by being stuck on a case for too long when there was a lot of money involved and s-"
"You can't seriously think that I fabricated evidence to frame your fiancée to solve that case quickly?!" Roy asked, feeling anger and horror course through him. It made him instinctively clench his fists, and he gasped at the pain that it caused, bowing forwards slightly. Cecilia had pleaded not guilty, but the look in her eye had made it clear that she was a greedy bitch at times. And it was a look that Isaac's current anger seemed to be forgetting. "The ones behind this are directly targeting me, dammit! They are targeting me and my loved ones and this is just them manipulating you!"
"Don't mess with me, Mustang, I saw the letters and what you did with the case file!" Isaac hissed, holding his hand over Roy's mouth as he grabbed him by his hospital shirt and slammed him backwards against a bookshelf, making him yell with agony into Isaac's hand, feeling his legs go weak from the pain, before the hand was removed from his mouth.
"I swear I never did anything of the sort! Th-" He was cut off as Isaac instead moved his hand to his throat, pressing down hard. Roy was panting heavily, tears in his eyes, the hand restricting his breathing, fear of dying almost taking over. But he was finally able to get some answers, and he now had proof that CID was indeed infiltrated, because someone had stolen the file on the case and altered the contents in order to frame him, as well as produce some unknown letters. He couldn't fight Isaac off just yet. He couldn't let this opportunity get away from him. And Isaac knew that that was exactly what Roy was thinking. "Whatever they showed you must be fake!" he wheezed. "Please, Isaac! Lives are at stake! Please help us solve this! You're a good man and you're being taken advantage of by a ruthless criminal!" If he tried to fight him back now, then it was doomed to fail. Isaac was skilled in martial arts and Roy had a highly injured arm that he really shouldn't mess up even more. But all it earned him was even more pressure against his throat.
"She died last year, you know. Alone. It was a congenital heart disease that nobody knew about. She literally died of a broken heart and she was alone, all because of you... It explains why you've been so adamant about working with your best friend Hughes whenever IA's been involved... He can turn a blind eye to things like that... But not me... And so I'm not going to let you fool me again, Mustang... You're a poisonous snake dwelling inside CID..."
Another flash of fear as the man squeezed tighter. He would have to call off this high-risk interview soon. But he was so close to getting info on who their corrupt colleagues were. On what was about to happen to his life. "Who is it?! Who told you?! Was it Kimblee?!"
Isaac laughed scornfully. "As if I'd tell you the names of those that are trying to bring you down... It explains how you've had such a brilliant career... How many have you framed? How many lies have you told? How many bribes have you given and accepted?"
"None!" Roy gasped. He was getting dizzy by now, his chest hurting, his legs trembling.
"NO!" came a familiar voice to his right, and he looked out of the corner of his eye to see Al charging at them.
"Al! Stay back!" His voice was a wheezy and terrified struggle for air.
Isaac let go of him, and Roy slid down the wall, gasping for air, agony coursing through him from his arm.
What happened next was quick. "That's the beauty of hospital clothes and a messed up arm, because you can't steal a folder from a corpse and hide it under your clothes," Isaac told him as he stepped back.
Then came the two quick shots.
Al screamed as Isaac fell to the floor and something hot and wet began to run down from about an inch above Roy's right temple as well. He was dazed and gasping for air, and Isaac was lying on the floor in front of him, a bullet in his brain and blood oozing from the hole that he had just put under his own chin.
"ROY!" Al yelled, and Roy suddenly had the young boy by his side, looking pale and tearful as he pressed the sleeve of his shirt against where the bullet had grazed Roy's head. "Are you all right?!"
He managed to get himself to nod shakily, still gasping for air, as he looked up at his soon-to-be adoptive son, his chest still aching from lack of oxygen.
Ed, Ross and Brosh were soon there too, and Roy began gasping out orders for Brosh to take Ed and Al with him to the other side of the bookcase so that they wouldn't be looking at the corpse as Ross pressed a handkerchief against the cut. He then told Brosh to instead call Riza and Hughes over the radio and say that they had found the attacker and that he was dead, and that they needed to return to the hospital right away. He couldn't leave with the boys himself in case Ross should turn out to be corrupt, or be blackmailed into it, which was more likely, based on her nature, and he couldn't be alone either because then he could risk claims of being corrupt himself by supposedly tampering with the evidence.
He watched Brosh do as he was told, seeing the slightly pale and terrified and shocked faces of the boys. He wanted to curse loudly. This was all going to hell and it was just like the killer wanted it to. He had the audacity to claim the Elrics as his own, and so he was to be punished along with the boys, mentally scarring them even further, and having them associate Roy with fear, death, and lack of safety.
He was beginning to see just how incompatible his job and his family were when combined in such a way. Though this wouldn't be the standard way that their cases would work. This was a case that was built around the boys being the original targets.
Still, this was horrible timing for just about everything, and right now, his arm was hurting so badly he could barely even think, and he was still not back to breathing completely normally. His chest and throat were still hurting as well. But he needed to do his job because lives were at stake, including Ed and Al's, and so he spoke to Ross in a low and slightly hoarse and wheezy voice. "He's my old work partner and someone used fake evidence against me to convince him to attack me... We're obviously dealing with a corruption case, and I can't risk people blaming me for tampering with the evidence that apparently proves how I'm a dirty cop, also because it's proof that someone is dirty themselves when they can supposedly get evidence like that... He said he carried it on his body, hence it being impossible for me to get away with whatever the hell I've supposedly been up to for the duration of my career, considering how I can't hide it with my arm and hospital clothes... I can't risk you touching the body after helping me with my wound like this, so we just need to wait for backup."
PC Ross was staring wide-eyed at him, obviously shocked and a bit scared. But Roy could see from her eyes that she wasn't corrupt herself, and so he opened his mouth again. "Do you trust me? If you don't, then that's okay, considering what I've just told you, but please just don't leave my side right now. I need people I can trust, because there's someone out for me, and there are far too many lives at stake. If there's someone trying to frame me, then I can't risk any accusations or misgivings about my actions right now."
She studied his eyes for two seconds. "No, I trust you, sir... Considering everything that's going on, I don't think that you're the one who's lying here... You don't strike me as a dirty cop."
Roy leant his head back against the bookcase behind him, feeling fear and agony and tiredness and guilt and grief and just every piece of emotional torment in general sink into him just a bit more. "Thank you, Constable."
He thought back to all those times at the cabin and at the way that this bastardly killer had manipulated a good man into doing something like this.
A couple of tears began to stream down his cheeks.
"I'm gonna catch this bastard... All of them... They're going down," he said angrily, looking at the dead body of his former work partner before him and felt another tear run down his cheek. "I'll be damned if I ever let them get away with this."
kryll45632: Thank you for your reviews, first of all! Secondly, I take it as a huge compliment that you think that the last part of the chapter was sob-worthy, it really means a lot to me to hear that I can write something that can make people cry, so thank you so much for that, although my apologies for making you cry, of course. I know that this chapter wasn't too cheerful either, but I've already started on the next one, and it is going to be a bit more cheerful and open up for more future fluff :) I hope you enjoyed the chapter!
And thank you so much to the rest of you readers, favouriters and followers, and please leave a review because they give me a lot of inspiration!
(But, as always, please no flames as they can be a bit discouraging)