Fraud
Monday, August 10, 8:40 A.M.
She was going to kill him. Mewtwo Vahan Smith wouldn't be able to run, or hide, anywhere she wouldn't go in order to rip him limb from limb. Top of a mountain or bottom of the ocean, she would find him and he would suffer. She'd point out why she was torturing him first, though. Because, quite obviously, he didn't get it.
It wasn't just that he'd destroyed evidence. It wasn't just that she'd seen a vengeful god on those security tapes, not her partner. It wasn't just that he'd scared her spitless when he'd destroyed the labs. It'd been that he hadn't thought- but Ben was leaving the conference room, and Brenda had to concentrate on the case.
"Got your slaves sorted out?" she asked, growling a little. Mewtwo shot her a look, but she pretended not to notice.
"I think we'll work very well together," Ben said, glad that the chosen two students had the sense to leave her terminology alone. Brenda had accepted them, that was enough. Proper names weren't likely. "Is there anything you need today? I can confirm time and cause of death, but I don't know what else you'll be focusing on."
"Time and cause of death will be enough, right now. Whatever was wrong with the clone, we already know it's lethal."
"Unless the scientists somehow found a way to correct past mistakes, but the chances of that are very low."
Brenda grunted, and gestured at Mewtwo. She continued to ignore him, even when he hurried forward to open the stairwell door. If he thought being polite was going to get him back in her good books, he'd just have to survive the disappointment. "Slaves?" she asked, glancing back at the two students trailing them. "Gonna have to come up with something to call you."
The boy with the piercings looked amused, but the girl only blushed. "When 'slaves' works so well?" he asked. "Doubt that you want names, in any case, when Dr. Ben is Hades."
"Point," she admitted, semi-cheerfully. "You, girl, you're Slave One. Emo Boy is Slave Dark. Everyone okay with that? Good. Hades, why is it the other students were morons?"
"I didn't choose them, I just get a lot of students from the community college." Ben looked to Nigel for the answer. He doubted that Olivia would start talking again until the police officers had left.
"There isn't an interview or anything, not even a background check. All you need is good marks in a few of the criminal justice classes," Nigel said. "I slept through those and ended up here."
"Sounds like me, only without the medical junk." Brenda smirked a little. She had cheated, though. Leon had been all too happy to help her out. "Anyways. Do you need to do anything, like get the bodies out, or are they already on the tables?" They had almost reached the morgue, and Ben was looking a little tense.
Ben distracted himself with the entry pad for the morgue. He relaxed when the door was open, and they had left the basement's narrow hallway. "We should be just fine. I'm right handed, and I won't need to lift any tissues out of the way. Nigel and Olivia also had very high marks in anatomy for their internship to involve me at all."
"That doesn't precisely answer the Detective's question," Mewtwo pointed out. "The bodies on the tables do, however," he admitted, and finished scanning the room. The sterility of the morgue was making his fur stand on end, today.
"The bodies have been on the tables since yesterday. A few lab technicians usually help with that step."
Brenda grunted, and moved to her customary spot near the back wall, out of anyone's way. "So what can you tell us?" She pointed at Nigel. "You. Test time. Freezer girl. Go."
"Taylor had been dead for about five days when she was discovered. No one at this lab could tell from looking at her body, but a contact in another precinct is an expert at cases that involve ice-types. The obvious wound to the neck was probably fatal, because it's not post-mortem."
"We know more about the neck wound." Ben glanced pointedly at Nigel, who only shrugged. "Full marks for the time of death, though. I'm not an expert in any case that involves freezing, so if that comes up in court the coroner from Cerulean has already agreed to testify."
"Fine. Probably won't, but fine. There's another wound?" Brenda's current spot was perfect for looking at the top of the woman's head, but not much else. "Tell me about that one."
"It's not visible without turning the body," Olivia said quietly when Ben gestured to her. "There's a deep gouge in the back, from just inferior to the ribs to just above the right iliac crest. From the look of the marks, it was made by a human hand."
"Okay, I get the idea that it's got to be messy, but what's an iliac crest?"
"And how," Mewtwo added, "could a human do that sort of damage?"
"This part of the hip," Olivia said, gesturing with her hand. "Most humans could do no more than scratch the surface of the skin, but that wound in combination with the snapped neck made us suspect that the clone is again the suspect."
"Lovely," was Brenda's remark. "You, Slave One, clone, test time. Go."
"The latest clone was found in the park, and was killed five days before she was found. The cause of death is the same, blunt trauma to the spinal cord at a high enough level to stop any breathing. The clone's muscled were atrophied in a way that suggested wheelchair use." Olivia's voice remained just barely audible, and she didn't look up from the floor once. Absurdly, Brenda was amused.
"Okay." Brenda nodded, and glared at Mewtwo. "Good enough for now, let me know if anything else comes up. Come, Smith. You and I need to talk."
Nigel watched them go. If Detective Johnson's own partner would flinch at the idea of talking about the case, he didn't want any of her attention.
Monday, August 10, 9:20 A.M.
Brenda drove Mewtwo straight to her home. She'd talked with what's-his-name- Browne, that was it- on the Crime Scene Investigation team, managed to get him to hand over the security tapes without a word. Granted, she might've told him she'd do a few physically impossible things to him if he didn't, but if Browne was too cowardly to hold onto evidence, that was his problem.
"You're going to watch a video," she said. "Rhonwen will make sure you do."
"A video?"
"A security video," she said, quite agreeably. "No popcorn for you."
Mewtwo arched his eyebrows. Wonderful, now he got to see himself destroy a criminal enterprise. "I wasn't aware you enjoyed home movies," he said.
"I don't."
He sighed, and stared out at the passing scenery. Maybe he could arrange to take a vacation after the case had been closed. Surely Brenda would be calmed down after a few days apart?
Brenda parked the car at an angle, half on the street and half in the driveway, and stalked to the front door. Mewtwo followed, making sure to close the car door behind him. "Have you considered the possibility that leaving the door open, keys in the ignition, and engine running is just an invitation to car thieves?"
"In!"
Mewtwo sighed, and headed in. He was met with narrowed red eyes, courtesy of Rhonwen. He glared at the hellhound, and made himself comfortable on the couch. "Do you even know how to work a VCR?" he asked.
You should be silent, Rhonwen said, shifting over to sit within biting distance. Our pack leader is angry. Now is not a good time to try to change your place in the pack.
"You should stay out of it," Mewtwo said, his words for Rhonwen only.
The houndoom snorted, and looked over at the TV.
Brenda started the video, glared at Mewtwo, and then headed for the door. "I don't want to see you for the rest of the day," she said, growling. "And, for once in your life, try to think with your brain and not your emotions, would you?"
Mewtwo's jaw dropped. He never-
You look like you were hit with a fish.
"I'm always logical!"
Rhonwen made a strange choking sound. If what you have is logic, I fear your emotions. Watch the pictures.
Mewtwo frowned. "Just what-"
Watch the pictures. Our pack leader has given me permission to bite you if you don't.
He rolled his eyes, and looked towards the TV. The image was grainy, out of focus, and in black and white, but it was hard to mistake what was going on. A tall, semi-humanoid figure stood in the middle of a nightmarish swirl of debris, moving slowly through the lab. The picture jumped whenever a new camera was used, but otherwise the images didn't change.
Perhaps, he thought, Brenda had a point. He hadn't been thinking, or he would have left most of the lab intact. It wasn't as if they could just throw away evidence.
Now you know, Rhonwen said, when he grimaced. She feared, when she watched.
Brenda had been afraid? He supposed he could understand that. What could be done to metal and plastic could be done to flesh and bone. "I'll have to do something to make it up to her," he said.
Stop being an idiot. Go home. Tomorrow, you can try again.
Mewtwo scowled at the houndoom, and fantasized about breaking her back. Of course, if he tried, she'd just rip his leg open to the bone, and then leave him to Brenda's tender mercies.
He teleported to the forest. He could use some time away from females.
Monday, August 12, 12:00 P.M.
Mark chewed his lip, and kept one eye on the older girl. Brian had brought his three nieces over to stay for a long weekend. The long weekend was technically over, the girls were still in the apartment, and Mark's stomach was twisting itself into knots.
Brian looked nothing like these girls. Brian was short and stocky and dusky skinned. These girls were tall and slender and pale. The oldest looked maybe sixteen, the youngest closer to five or six. And there was something wrong with each of them. Mark had watched her, making breakfast just yesterday. She'd put her hand down on a red-hot burner and hadn't noticed until Mark had yelled. Even then, she'd just looked confused, staring at the burns until he'd fixed her up.
The middle kid was the weirdest, though. The youngest just sat in the corner and rocked and looked terrified the entire time. The middle one watched her sisters and smiled. It was freaky, but not nearly as freaky as what'd almost happened when she'd caught the rattata. Pinned it in a corner and picked it up by the tail. Then she'd turned to Brian and asked if she could play with the knives, with the freakiest grin you ever did see.
There was something very wrong with those girls.
But just what could he do? Brian refused to see anything wrong, and would be returning them to their parents this afternoon. There wasn't anything Mark could do… Was there?
Not for the first time, since meeting the girls, he looked at the phone and considered dialing social services. There had to be some rule. They weren't healthy, they were sick in the head and body. And, well, you only got sick like that if you were being beaten or something by your parents.
It was the fact that Brian was out getting groceries that finally decided Mark. He got up and walked over to the phone. As he was dialing, the middle kid walked over and stared at him.
"Do you know how to flay people?" she asked. Mark shuddered.
Somehow, he managed to impress the chick at social services so much, the police showed up within ten minutes.
End Notes
And life has once more picked up. Meaning, of course, my other stories have stopped dragging their heels and are listening to their mistress cracking the whip. That being said, anybody figured out why Brenda's so pissy with Mewtwo? Anyone know what med grad students are like and why Ben needed to get rid of most of them? And anyone know why I'm asking so many questions when I should be writing?