Note: Six degrees of separation refers to the idea that everyone is on average approximately six steps away, by way of introduction, from any other person on Earth, so that a chain of "a friend of a friend" statements can be made, on average, to connect any two people in six steps or fewer.
Chapter 13 – Six degrees of separation
Interrogation Room 1 – Blaine and Santana.
"Start talking." I yell at her as I sit on my chair, Blaine stays walking around the room trying to find clues in Sizes that can help us. Scratches, wounds, signs of struggle.
"I have nothing to say, can I go now?" Lauren crosses her arms and gives me the attitude. I can't with this shit right now.
"You go when you start opening your mouth to something relevant like it's the Sylvester's Burger eating competition!" I'm the bad cop, I'm always the bad cop.
"What makes you think I have anything to say?" She raises her eyebrow to me and looks me dead in the eye. She doesn't scare me even if she's twice my size.
"You are a cleaner at all the places that are being targeted by the serial killer, no one knows this places like you…start talking. Have you seen anything strange? I'm having a hard time believing you have nothing to do with this!" I lean on my chair and raise my eyebrow too. Two can play this game.
"You have nothing against me, working in several places isn't a crime yet? Is it?" She's playing dumb, I know it. I need to find something that makes her itch, I've got to put my finger on the wound…I just need to find out where's the wound.
"No, but obstruction of justice is and I KNOW you saw something. You were seen on the video cameras outside of the cinema a little before we found Quinn's car. What were you doing there? we know your shift didn't start until 9pm."
"So now a girl can't go for a walk now?"
"You think this is a joke?! Mi nombre es Santana Lopez y soy de Lima Heights Adjacent. TALK NOW."
"You don't need to go all Michelle Rodriguez on me, what do you wanna know?"
"What were you doing next to Quinn Fabray's car?" I raise from my seat and I put my fists on the table and stare dead in her eye, 2 inches from her face. She raises too and we look like to cats ready to pounce on each other and not in a good way.
Interrogation room 2 – Dave and Puck.
Dave takes the lead of the interrogation because Puck is spending half of his energy trying not to beat the information out of Jesse St. James.
"Yes, Quinn Fabray was supposed to work on the play that we will show on my theatre but that doesn't mean I know who she is… I don't get along with all the minor dancers of the shows." He runs his hand over his curly hair and sighs, like he can't believe we are wasting his time like this.
"She's kind of hard to forget. Blonde, beautiful, perfect bone structure. Good singer, almost amateur, she can be a star thanks to you. A man like you, who likes to take advantage of the good things in life…would you let the opportunity to get it with her?" Dave sits on the corner of the table and his broad shoulders look even broader. You can see St. James shrinking in his seat.
"Well, you got that right. But, as sleazy as you think I am, I'm getting out of a relationship with a rather complicated girl so I think I need some time to get back on that horse." He looks to both of them, waiting for some sign of understanding, finding none he looks down finding his Prada shoes suddenly very interesting.
"Yes, we are aware that you were involved with someone who is the latest victim of the Dancers' Killer. It's really convenient that your relationship ended the night she was murdered." He raises his eyes and frowns looking genuinely surprised. He waits a minute before uttering some response.
"I don't know what you are talking about." He finally says and Dave hears Puck hiss and Dave raises a hand to calm him.
"Of course not. That's really convenient also." Dave gives him his trademark smirk and looks at the ceiling, this is going to be a long night.
"You can't possibly think I killed her." He looks like he is finally catching up.
"Not only her but all those other victims, we can connect all of them to you!" Dave says calmly as he gets up from the table, getting ready to give the control of the talk to Puck.
"IT'S THE SIX DEGREES LAW, you can connect ANYONE in the world by six degrees of separation." St James starts to blush and he yells waving his hands.
"That's honestly your angle on this? C'mon St. James. You are too vain to even see how deep in shit you are. That shiny blue blazer will be a great success in jail." Puck starts walking towards him and raises him from his coat's collar.
"You have nothing on me…" He struggles to say as Puck raises him from the ground.
"Yet." He hisses before letting him fall on the floor.
"And you'll have nothing because even though Sara and I had a fight, and you possibly found some of my skin on her nails because she scratched the living shit out of me on our make up sex, I would never hurt her like that!" He says trying to get up.
"You didn't seem very emotional when we told you she was dead." Puck pushes his shoulder so he stays sitting on the chair.
"Well, she was a beautiful girl and was amazing in bed. That doesn't mean I actually cared for her." St. James rubs his hands on his jacket trying to eliminate the wrinkles and adjusts his tie.
"You are a sick man." Dave says, leaning on the corner of the wall.
"No, I'm driven and egocentric. I would never kill a person. My suits are all to good to let blood spoil them." He raises his finger to correct them.
"And how do we know you didn't go all American Psycho because the girls refused you?" Puck paces around him and stays behind Jesse.
"Because, like I said, even if I hit on them and tried to tap some of this guy's victims, the person I might one day consider killing for is none of them." He says in a matter-of-fact tone.
"So you would kill someone?" Puck is talking to the guys ear or sneering would be more like it.
"No, I would kill for someone. Clean your ears, you are going deaf and step away or you'll make me."
"Is that person Quinn Fabray?" Dave walks to the table and puts his fist to the table with a loud bang.
"GOD no!" St James shouts disgusted. "It's Rachel Berry, obviously."
"So what's your thing? You'd think someone who works so hard would have less to eat your feelings. What feelings are you eating? It says here that you once beaten a girl to a pulp because she got a part you were auditioning, do you wanted to be an actress?" Blaine is way to calm for this bitch. Bringing up this bitches past is not the way.
"How's that any of your business?" she looks bored, she asked for a bag of chips and we got her one. She's chewing loudly and I'm a inch away to beat her head into the table.
"You were around a lot of beautiful girls in the gym and the theatre? Did any of that old rage against queen bees came to the surface?"
"Have you been to a shrink? Because Freud would have a lot to say about that outfit." She says calmly as she eats the last chip.
"I beg your pardon?" Blaine says confused and looks at me and I know I have to do this before his head implodes.
"Leave me alone I have nothing to do with this and please put a collar on that bitch over there before she eats a chunk of me. There's a lot of girls in a stripper club that look like her, maybe if she keeps failing at being a cop she can work that pole. And on Thursdays it's transvestite night, I think you can go all Chaka Khan when this investigation goes down the drain, I can put on a good word for you too." Look at this person's nerve, she thinks she's got it all on her hand. I'm going to twist this one around.
"You know what Blaine? We are wasting our time. The girls that Dancers Killer goes after are strong and beautiful and lively, there's no way someone like her could even plot a against them. She's white trash, trailer park sort of person. There's no way she could manage to even catch on of them if they sprinted on a run." I remembered the writings on the black swan murder scene, if she's the killer she hates perfection. So I rub her flaws on her face and wait for that little bug that is eating her away to eat his way out of her skin.
"I think you are right Santana. I don't think that chubby hand can force a knife into anything other than a pie, let alone a person's throat." Blaine catches up with me and follows my lead.
"Besides she looks so harmless, Blaine, like a lovely pink little pig."
"One of those to have in a home as a and I are thinking of getting one for our anniversary."
"At least she has something in common with them, she seems to eat everything she can get her hands on, or should I say paws." We keep bantering and smirking and chuckling of our own jokes, talking about her like she's not here and I know it's working because her face is getting redder and redder.
"I bet she envied those girls as she cleaned their floors. "
"Maybe she even kissed the floors they walked on."
"NO, BUT I MADE YOUR FRIEND QUINN KISS THOSE FLOORS. I MADE SURE SHE STAYS ALIVE SO YOU AND PUCK COULD KNOW SHE'LL DIE BECAUSE YOU FAILED TO FIND HER. SHE'LL HEAR THE TICK TOCK OF HER LIFE RUNNING FROM HER AS YOU TOO BUTTHEADS RUN IN CIRCLES AND SHE'LL KNOW THAT NO AMOUNT OF BEAUTY CAN SAVE HER."