I'm so sorry that I haven't updated in nearly four months, but this year so far is not going too well. I've been ill, and then as soon as I recovered my laptop decided to corrupt it's hard-drive, and it took about a month to get the files off it, because we couldn't find them. So it's taken about two months to find everything. Needless to say I'm not feeling too charitable towards technology at the moment.

But here is the next Chapter. I've also updated the previous Chapter, just changed some things around that I thought didn't fit. This isn't my favourite chapter.

Disclaimer: Isn't mine.

Chapter 6- Apartments and Pictures

19:00:00

Glass crunched underfoot, the shards embedding in the soles of his shoes. Leon winced slightly, disliking the feeling, but walked further into the apartment.

It was truly a horrendous mess. The windows were frosted with tiny cracks, the wallpaper was peeling and dust lined almost every surface. What he had stepped on were the grimy remains of a shattered wineglass, the significance belonging to the past. He could tell that no one had been in here for years, nothing had been disturbed. He practically stood in the dust of memories.

When she had lived here, Marie had always been ridiculously meticulous. Everything had been clean, and dust was non-existent. Everything looked pristine, and orderly. Looking at the room now, it was like the world had been turned on its head, bastardising the value that the apartment once held. Leon was strangely wrapped up in the memories that were presented to him. So much had happened here, that he hardly knew where to start.

"Where do you always start, Leon?" Marie's voice floated to him and he turned around just to check that she wasn't actually behind him. He chastised himself roughly. Of course she wasn't in the room, "Come on, Leon, where do we start?" he rubbed his temples, looking around, seeing it clearly. He was in serious trouble if his conscience had decided to take the persona of the most amoral person he had ever known. Someone who didn't understand ethics, "We start..."

"In the bedroom," he finished the sentence, crossing the floor quickly, and leaving deep prints in the dust. He entered the smaller room, seeing that it was as it ever had been. Going to the desk which was in the far corner he found that the drawers had been locked. He hadn't remembered searching them when he had conducted the search on the apartment ten years ago. Now where would the key be? He looked around, where would be the most likely place that someone would hide a key?

"Where's the most likely place I would keep a key, Leon?" Marie corrected him, and he ignored it, preferring to study what was in front of him. He ran his fingers over every surface trying to find anything that would lead to finding a key. Where would you hide a key...? Where would Marie hide a key?

He stopped in front of the desk again. The only place to hide something was where no one would look. And no one would look... "Right in front of them," he murmured, looking at a picture of a desolate landscape. He took it off, turning it over. A key was strapped to the back and he quickly took it off. It would be Marie to have an old fashioned key, not electronic. He inserted it quickly into the desk, "What do we have here, Marie?" he took out the contents, spreading it out on the desk, "Pictures?"

For the second time that day, he stared into the faces of fifteen dead women, all differently positioned. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He didn't need to see these again. He pulled open the other drawers, seeing a few files. Nothing important, these were files from cases that were from long ago. A remnant of a life that had long disappeared. He flicked through them, the memories coming back to him, and he almost smiled at them.

He leant against the desk, looking at the room around him. There was so much here that reminded him of Marie even when she hadn't stepped foot inside her apartment in a decade. Even if they knocked down walls, painted new colours and replaced the furniture, it still would be irrevocably her. Not that anyone would want buy the apartment. It appeared that ever since the arrest and subsequent trial, the whole block of apartments had been vacated rather quickly. He slightly pitied the landlord. He couldn't rent the flats and he couldn't sell the whole block. All for the murder of thirteen...

He stopped, turning back to the desk. Thirteen murders but fifteen photographs. And he had been the first person in here for ten years. Something wasn't right. Searching through the photographs, he placed them into order from memory, finding the two anomalous victims. He didn't recognise them, and he was sure that they weren't Raquel Lighthower or Sara Luxembourg. When they had searched the flat after the arrest of Marie, they had gone through everything, nothing had been left out. So either they had missed the photographs or they had been placed in the desk afterwards. He would have to find an inventory of what they had recovered from the search.

"What do you think, Leon?" Marie asked and he closed his eyes, ignoring the voice, "Make a decision. Look," his eyes snapped open looking around the room, "The desk was locked, and the dust on the floor is undisturbed. To all the world, this room has not been entered. So explain the photographs. How could they have remained unnoticed by everyone?"

"Because they got in through the window," he crossed over to the window and opening it. He looked down seeing a fire escape below them, "Either someone very tall or a good climber," he turned around, "But why would someone bother to place..." He stopped, "This is your doing,"

"Mine?" Marie's voice mocked him slightly, "I am merely a voice in your head, I am not to blame. This doesn't really bode well for you, if you're imagining a conversation with me. You really must miss me more that you allow yourself to show;" he didn't bother to reply to that, "Do you? Miss me?"

"You don't understand sentiment, Marie," he murmured, going back into the living room, holding the photos. Peters would know about the identity of the women, but that was later. He grabbed his radio, "Timekeeper Leon to Ellini," the radio fizzed and spat static at him, "Timekeeper Ellini?"

He hit it and it finally focussed, Ellini's voice coming in, "Timekeeper Ellini here, Leon. I've done what you asked me to do; I've checked the people going in and out of Dayton in the past three weeks. The trouble is that we don't know whether the killer kidnapped and kept the victims for a couple of days before killing them. I've managed to narrow it down to around just under five thousand people, eliminating duplicates,"

"Crossing time zones is unusual," Leon answered, "Especially from Dayton, there can't be thousands of people crossing the lines, every single day. That's illogical,"

"I haven't ruled out any public servants," Ellini's voice was hesitant on the other line, "Fire brigades, doctors, teachers...Timekeepers," Leon didn't answer, "I know I should think higher of our colleagues but I was thinking that I have to keep an open mind. It's just a precaution,"

"No," Leon cut through her, "No, you've done good. You're right not to exclude everything. Check their backgrounds, see if anything stands out, I want information on where exactly they have been within the Time Zones, see if any of them fall off the radar. You've done a good job in this," He sighed, "I'm on my way to Headquarters. I've found pictures of two women that I don't remember ten years ago; I'll need to check the victims again. I think someone's also been at her apartment,"

"She's insane, Leon, of course she's got her people playing games with us," Ellini answered, "The women that were killed were murdered with no DNA evidence and a very precise M.O. It doesn't take a genius to jump to the conclusion that perhaps they weren't her first murders. They do say that practice makes perfect. Howard is a psychopath, she gets off on twisting people to get her own way," she paused, "What does her apartment look like?"

"Dusty," he replied, "I wouldn't say that Marie is insane, she knows what she is doing and deliberately ignores any moral view," he walked towards the window, rubbing some dust off it and looking at the view, "Get back to me as soon as you can about those people. Try to see if any of them have visited Marie in prison, we need to find out as much as we can. Time is ticking down faster than I would like," he clicked the radio off looking around the flat again, and breathing in the musty smell. It was a pity that such a beautiful place had fallen apart.

Not unlike its owner.

He crossed into the living room, searching carefully amongst the dusty furniture. So there was evidence that someone had been in the bedroom. Was there anything that was in the rest of the house? He tapped the table top, thinking heavily, before looking around carefully. Nothing.

Was the pictures just a distraction to him or were they left here accidentally? Well they had succeeded in trying to distract him. These women were going to be a constant reminder in his head.

17:00:00

"They're women that went missing nearly fifteen years ago," Peters told him, surveying Leon through a plastic mask which was painted with flecks of blood from the autopsy he had just been performing, "Cold cases," he stripped off his filthy latex gloves and walking over to the computer in the corner and typing on it quickly, "I remember them because they didn't make sense. Molly Hooper and Stephanie Caelian, best friends. Vanished into thin air before turning up three months later dead. They had been kidnapped, the crime scene pointed to it, but there wasn't any mark on the bodies that showed that they were anything but healthy...happy girls. It was very odd," he looked at the other man, "And you say you found them in Marie's desk?"

"Yes, clearly they were placed there to distract me into finding out who they were," Leon said, smiling wryly, "And it's worked. We've got two women dead in reality and two dead women fifteen years ago. I don't know whether it's connected but I find it very odd that they've just appeared,"

"Ignore these women, Leon," Peters leaned forward, "Focus on the connection...that is all you need to do. Leave these with me," he took the photographs off the Timekeeper, and Leon nodded, "Was there anything in her apartment that would lead to something?"

"Apart from the photographs? No," Leon folded his arms, "What...you think I missed something?"

"Well..." Peters shrugged, "No, I don't think that Leon, but you have to admit that this is playing out to show us more dead-ends than ways forward. We are running out of time and you need to start working on the connection before it's far too late. We can't allow Marie to kill another person, even though it's another person," he tapped his mouth thoughtfully, "I suppose the next step of the journey would be to talk to the victims' families yourself and determine whether they knew Marie Howard in any capacity,"

"Surely they have already been questioned after their relative was found murdered," Leon answered coldly, "Didn't Korsqq ask questions when he talked to them?"

"Leon, I don't think you have noticed but we are very overrun here," Peters answered, "Of course Korsqq asked the family the standard questions to the families that we are meant to ask them. But we haven't even broached the question of Marie to them yet. As soon as we do, you do realise that media will be all over this," Leon sighed in frustration, rubbing his eyes frantically, the other man frowning with concern, "This was never going to be clean and easy for you, Leon,"

"What do you suggest I do, John?" He saw with satisfaction that the medical examiner looked slightly chastised with the use of his first name, "I have seventeen hours left to find a connection and I can't allow any time to go to waste here,"

"I understand completely, you can't allow yourself to step down when you know that there are lives at stake," the British man frowned in worry, looking at his watch which showed the time, "Look, no one apart from us is going to be up at this time of night, so you can't go and talk to the families now,"

"I know, there is something that I'm missing here, Peters. Something staring me right in the face," Leon bit his lip in thought, "There's something..." he shook his head, breaking out of the trance, "It'll come to me eventually,"

"Let's just hope that it isn't too late,"

12:00:00

"Got some sleep, sir?" Korsqq sat down in front of Leon, holding out a cup of coffee and the older man sighed, before taking it, "Managed to get some time to run to the coffee cart. Seems hard to sleep when we're on a deadline to meet, so I thought it would help keep you going," Leon merely smiled, not betraying the connection of thoughts and emotions that were churning around his mind. And the two were silent for a minute that seemed to go on forever.

"Did you do the background checks on Marie Howard?" Leon asked Korsqq.

"Yes, sir," the blond haired Timekeeper said, opening a file, "The guards that were on duty. The psychiatrics that were sent by the state. Her lawyer visited several times, but he usually phoned, and rarely visited," he thumbed through the phone records, "Gabrelli visited several times, and so have the other deputy directors. Then there was a visit by Medical Examiner Peters four years ago, and one eight years ago by yourself," he frowned, "Her phone calls only consist of the minute each month to your phone, and of course her lawyer," he flipped a piece of paper, frowning.

"Letters?" Leon inquired, sipping the coffee.

"Receives subscriptions from the Times and the Daily," Korsqq answered, "Two newspapers, once a day. Oh, and magazine subscription to the National Medical Society, that she started receiving four months ago," Leon frowned at that, "That's a weekly magazine. Personal letters are scanned and read in case there's anything suspicious in them. But there aren't very many. A letter three months ago from a Reverend Paul Simons, replying to a letter that Miss Howard had on the New Testament. I didn't realise that Miss Howard was religious,"

"She's not," Leon replied dryly, "Well she never was particularly religious ten years ago, and I doubt that she has changed her tune. If you have that level of control over people, then you start to think that you're God. She believes in a higher power and that is herself,"

"Why do you think she is writing to a Reverend then, sir?" Korsqq pulled out the copy of the letter, "It seems pretty straightforward to me, 'I saw your letter in the paper about how society must not forget that a man who was crucified next to Jesus repented his crimes, and was forgiven ...' it goes on to inquire what the Reverend's view on how much the Bible forgives a crime. You think that it is a code?"

"No, I think that it's Marie trying to disillusion yet another person, but it definitely needs to be looked at," Leon rubbed his eyes, "And look into this National Medical Society. Something doesn't seem right about that. It's too...banal. Other than anatomy that she used to use, I can't remember whether she was interested in medicine," he picked up the different pictures, "Radio me when you find something,"

The younger man nodded, standing up, before pausing, "We will find the next victim in time, sir," he informed Leon, who looked up at him, "There is a connection between Raquel Lighthower and Sara Luxembourg, and we will find it," he inclined his head, awkwardly, not used to stating something so boldly, before walking away.

Leon didn't have time to ponder the other Timekeeper's words for long as a shadow crossed his path, making him look up, resisting a grimace.

"Timekeeper Dent is there anything I can do for you?" he queried the man politely, inwardly concealing his annoyance at being distracted.

"Deputy Director Gabrelli sent me to inquire how you are getting on with the case pertaining to the Red Petal Killer," Dent informed him, stiffly, "You have twelve hours left, and there is a press pack outside which is ready to tear every Timekeeper that steps out of the building,"

"How did they find out about this case?" Leon asked, interrupting the man, "We haven't released anything to the media. Are we sure that it's about this case and not another one,"

"You haven't seen the early morning edition of the Times today, have you?" Dent held up the newspaper which bore the title: RED PETAL KILLER STRIKES, "It's rather a dull title, but it does its job. We have about fifty reporters camped outside wanting a word with you. They even have a picture of you,"

Leon took the newspaper, "Shit," he murmured, scanning the paper, before throwing it away from him, "I suppose Gabrelli will be doing a press conference,"

"In about an hour," Dent confirmed, "Which is why Gabrelli wants to know how far you've gotten with this case and what information you've managed to gather,"

"Marie Howard might have linked to two cold cases that we have, we think she killed them before she was sent to prison," Leon said tersely, "We now that there is someone that she is working with who is killing these people, and there is evidence of accomplices in the past. We're currently doing background checks on everyone that has interacted with Marie since she's been in prison, and we are still looking for a connection between the two victims that were killed in the last couple of days. Is that enough for you?"

Dent stiffened, "Perfectly, Timekeeper Leon," he answered, "I'll inform the Deputy Director," he stalked away, and Leon ran his hands throw his hair, frustrated. No results made him feel agitated and irritable.

He took a glance at the two photographs pinned on his wall of Molly Hooper and Stephanie Caelian. He knew that they were a distraction to this deadline but he couldn't help but want to start digging through that file, now that he'd hit a block with this case.

He rubbed his temples, feeling a headache threatening to come on.

"You call me a headache now, Leon?" He couldn't help but jump slightly at the sound of Marie's voice in his head. He had to stop with this mental projection of her. It wasn't remotely normal or even classed as sane, "You're going to be labelled as schizophrenic if you carry on imagining that I'm here, Leon. Perhaps we can get neighbouring rooms,"

He ignored the voice. It was merely a by-product of too little sleep and too much caffeine. He checked his watch: 07:34:43. Enough time. He needed this connection.

Sara Luxembourg. Twenty five.

Raquel Lighthower. Forty nine.

And neither of them crossed over into the others territory. Living in different areas. And both seemingly completely random. But somehow they were connected. How? And why murder them now? Ten years is a long time, even if Marie didn't realise how long it had...

Leon started suddenly. Marie didn't realise that it had been ten years. She could have been any amount of time for her, but she had chosen to act now. There had been something...something that had triggered a sudden change in the way that she planned. He rifled thought the file that Korsqq had left him, running a finger down the phone calls that she had made.

He stopped on one that had been made five months ago. One phone call that lasted two hours to Jacques Le Blanc, her lawyer. He picked up the file that contained the Red Petal Murders, finding the file stating that five months ago, the files of the trials and hearing of Marie Howard would be able to be released to the general public. Four months ago she ordered the National Medical Society's magazine.

Sara Luxembourg had trained as a nurse.

Leon was out the door before the papers of the file could settle.

She could hear the sound of heavy footsteps treading their way through the metal tunnel, and she fingered the heavy silver knight chess piece, before moving it on the checkered board. The light blared loudly in the room, making her eyes hurt slightly, but she refused to close them.

All her little white pieces were prepared now. The Pawn. The Bishop. The Rook. The Knight. The Queen, and the most precious piece of all. The King. All of them dancing around to the tune of what she wanted, even though she was trapped in this little box of a prison. Even the man heading towards her was tied up in this game of control.

She couldn't wait to see them play together.

The doors opened slowly and she smiled slightly before stretching up, turning towards her visitor, "Ahh...I've been expecting you," a smile played around her mouth, "Fancy a game of chess, Director?"

So...still not my favourite chapter. But I'm almost finished the next chapter, which I like a bit more.

Next Time: Parents and Reporters