Murder Case #201

CHAPTER 4- PRIME SUSPECT

We leave Detective Ace unconscious at the house. I entrusted him to my mother. I still need to work, and so does Lesia.

As I enter the Faculty Room, I immediately notice a group of female lecturers gathered in one corner. Ma'am Flynn looks at me. She's the teacher I mentioned earlier, my friend.

"Come here!" she calls out to me, urging me to join their daily gossip against my will.

"What's happening?" I casually ask them.

"Do you already know about the murder case at Xell Hospital?" Ma'am Pau asks me. "What happened to Doctor Kira is horrifying," she adds.

"How did you find out about the Xell Hospital Murder Case?" I ask curiously.

"How could we not know? It's all over the news, even on TV. We really have no control over someone's life. I spoke to Kira just yesterday," Ma'am Niña says.

"Huh? You know Kira?" Flynn asks in surprise.

"Not that well. It just so happens that she's a friend of my cousin who is also a doctor at XH. I went there yesterday morning, so we greeted each other," she explains.

Everyone breathes a sigh of relief upon hearing her answer.

"That's good then because we might later find out that the police have arrested you for being involved in the case," Ma'am Irene comments.

"Oh, come on! I don't have any criminal tendencies, okay? I'm just nosy," she quickly defends herself. Everyone bursts into laughter except for me.

I subtly return to my seat and start reflecting. I take out my cell phone and begin typing.

Killer: Male

Mastermind/Accomplice: Female

I close my eyes and recall the voices of the killer and the woman involved in the crime.

"I love you, I love you so much."

"You're the one who killed Kira."

They appear to be roughly the same age, perhaps in their early thirties, around 30 or 31. The killer's voice resonates with an eerie abnormality, a chilling manifestation of anger and deep-seated hatred. Such a depraved act could only be carried out by a disturbed psychopath, devoid of empathy and consumed by darkness.

I wonder what Kira did to the man.

The woman's voice possesses an intriguing peculiarity, an enigmatic blend of sweetness and manipulation. It carries an alluring charm that masks her underlying motives, subtly weaving her influence over the man. Their ability to exert control over one another suggests a profound connection rooted in shared secrets and hidden agendas.

Childhood friends? Lovers? Or perhaps they both have resentment towards Kira, so they conspire together?

The killer possesses an unnerving devotion, a fanatical obsession that marks him as a deranged psychopath. His mention of the word "love" betrays a twisted sense of emotion, proving he is not a mere emotionless monster. It is plausible that the woman cunningly exploits his affection for Kira, leveraging his turbulent emotions to manipulate him like a marionette.

As for the woman, she belongs to the perilous ranks of the Leader group of psychos. With her calculated demeanor and treacherous nature, she poses a significant threat. Her presence alone is a chilling reminder of the depths of darkness that dwell within this twisted collective.

"Lynn, don't you have a class during the first period?" Flynn interrupts me. I scratch my forehead. I almost forgot that I am still at school.

"Thanks for reminding me. I have a class in Grade 7 now."

"It seems like you haven't slept again, huh? Have you eaten?"

"I didn't sleep, but I have already eaten."

"Well, in that case, I have some multivitamins here. I'll give you some so your pale face can have some color. Tsk, are you still alive?" she jokes.

"I'm still alive. Bad weeds take a long time to die, right?" We locked eyes for a second and burst into laughter together. I envy cheerful people.

I say goodbye and head to my class. I walk quietly toward the Junior High Building. The Faculty Room and Dean's Office are located between the Junior and Senior High Buildings. The Director of Dammon Academy also has a separate building. The meeting room is situated there as well. The School Canteen, Clinic, Library, and Gymnasium each have their own designated spots.

This academy stands apart with its impressive scale, surpassing others in sheer size. It serves as a refuge for students who have proven resistant to the control of conventional institutions. While not all students exhibit rebellious tendencies, a striking 90% of the classes I oversee display an underlying attitude problem.

Behind the facade, a hidden reality unfolds within these walls. Here, the privileged elite holds sway, wielding their wealth and power to shape the school's dynamics. It is this very phenomenon that has earned it the moniker of the Black Sheep's Home, a domain where societal misfits and the influential collide in a delicate dance of authority.

Taking a deep breath, I redirect my attention to the class, fully immersed in the swift passage of time. The uninterrupted flow of the lesson carries on until the realization abruptly hits me—it's already time for recess.

With a sense of urgency, I hastily navigate my way back to the faculty room. In my rush, my eyes catch the sight of Detective Ace engaged in conversation with Flynn. Pausing for a fleeting moment, I contemplate whether to proceed directly or momentarily postpone my approach.

Suddenly, Flyn's voice pierces the air, exclaiming with enthusiasm, "Oh, there she is!"

The detective's gaze swiftly turns towards me, his presence commanding attention. Despite the compelling urge to retreat and escape from his intimidating presence, my unwavering determination to confront him prevails.

As the weight of the situation settles upon me, I realize that if I truly desire to bring justice to Kira's untimely demise, I must join forces and collaborate with Detective Ace.

Despite the swirling reservations in my mind, I mustered the courage to approach him. Tentatively, I step forward, hoping that he won't pose any harm. The absence of his uniform and his casual attire offers a semblance of reassurance.

"Detective Ace is looking for you," Flynn calmly relays the message. I simply nodded, my curiosity piqued.

"Follow me," I assert formally, taking the lead.

We navigate through the school grounds, arriving at a secluded private garden. Its lush greenery and tranquil ambiance create the perfect backdrop for our clandestine conversation.

"Explain yourself," he demands with a blunt tone, wasting no time. A nervous chuckle escapes my lips, betraying the tension within.

"I have nothing to explain. If I were to do so, I'd confide in Lesia..."

Suddenly, his hand tightly clasps around my arm, causing my words to falter. Time seems to stand still as our eyes lock in a silent standoff. Eventually, he releases his grip, the intensity of the moment lingering in the air.

"Touch me again, and I'll dismantle your life," I retort, my voice laced with determination. His jaw tenses, an unspoken warning lingering beneath his gaze.

"Who killed Kira?" he asks with heightened emphasis, his eyes ablaze with a potent mix of anger and anguish.

"I don't know," I confess, the weight of uncertainty burdening my words.

"What? Are you kidding me?" His incredulity fills the space between us.

"Stop pestering me and grant me a respite, so I can reveal the truth of her murderer," I implore, my voice tinged with urgency.

"If you fail to uncover the identity of the killer..."

"Come on, Detective Ace," I taunt, a hint of playful defiance in my tone. "Don't rely solely on me to solve Kira's case. From the very beginning, you never placed your trust in me, did you? Between the two of us, you bear the title of detective, while I remain merely a humble teacher."

I walk away from the aggressive detective, feeling the weight of his piercing gaze on my back. The tension in the air is palpable, and I can sense his restrained anger, like a coiled serpent ready to strike. I find it difficult to decipher his thoughts and movements, which only strengthens my resolve to keep my distance from him.

"Did Lesia tell you anything?" I ask, meeting his gaze head-on, my voice filled with a mix of curiosity and apprehension.

It seems he already knows, his eyes betraying a glimmer of awareness that sends a chill down my spine.

"We'll meet later at your station. I have something to do before I give my statement. You don't need to come to this school. I'll come to you," I assert, my words laced with determination.

A deafening silence engulfs the space between us, amplifying the intensity of the moment. His expression remains inscrutable, leaving me to wonder what thoughts lie behind that unreadable mask.

"Is Kira your girlfriend?" I suddenly ask, unable to ignore the deep connection that emanates between them. The flowers he brought her last night, the ones he carried to the hospital, speak volumes about their bond. They were meant to share a dinner together, but fate had different plans.

"Who are you really?" he counters, his voice tinged with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion.

I find myself at a loss for words, unable to provide a satisfactory answer. Apart from my uncanny ability to hear the desperate voices of those fighting for their lives, I am just a fallible human, vulnerable to wounds and death.

"I'll accept whatever you think of me," I reply with a hint of resignation, accepting the inevitability of his judgment.

His eyes momentarily shift upward, searching the grayish expanse of the sky. Uncertainty lingers in the air, making it difficult to discern whether he is genuinely amused or if it's just a figment of my imagination. As his gaze returns to meet mine, it locks onto me with an intensity that sends shivers down my spine.

His stare grows even more piercing, a display of restrained aggression that reveals the immense effort he exerts to prevent himself from harming me again. To regain clarity, I avert my eyes, seeking a moment of respite.

Something is amiss. He possesses knowledge that eludes me, and it seems to fuel his anger directed at me. My thoughts race as I gulp, contemplating the urgency of visiting the crime scene.

Just as I'm about to turn away, he breaks the silence with a chilling remark. "I'll give you time to come up with an alibi, Miss Ainslynn Quezon. If you don't provide a solid reason for your premonition of Kira's tragedy, I won't hesitate to add you to the list of prime suspects."

I feel as though an invisible force is pulling my head forward, forcing me to face the arrogant detective.

What drives his persistent suspicion? I already proved the validity of my words last night, so why does his doubt seem to intensify?

Alibi? Prime suspect? Me? The words echo in my mind, incredulity seeping through every fiber of my being.

"There are consequences for false accusations, Detective Ace," I retorted, my voice laced with determination. "If you plan on using such tactics to incriminate me in Kira's case, don't even think about it. I can outsmart any trap you set because I know I'm innocent of last night's crime."

And yet, his willingness to grant me a chance implies that a fraction of my words holds some semblance of truth, however reluctant he may be to admit it.

With a gaze as sharp as a blade, Detective Ace meets my eyes, his determination unwavering. The weight of his words hangs in the air like a storm cloud, promising to shatter my life if I'm found implicated in Kira's tragic demise.

"Bring it on, Detective Ace," I retorted, a surge of defiance fueling my words. "Talk to me when you have concrete evidence to present. I won't flee or hide. I am ready and willing to cooperate fully with you. Take a moment to reconsider your choices. The killer has already deceived us once. Let's not allow them to slip away due to baseless conjecture." With that, I swiftly make my way out of the garden, leaving behind an atmosphere tinged with unresolved tension.

Shaking my head in disbelief, I can't help but mull over the intriguing puzzle that Detective Ace presents. There's an undeniable peculiarity to his demeanor and his choice of words. I can't shake off the suspicion that the real culprit is cunningly manipulating the investigation, weaving a web of deception to ensnare the innocent.

This case, like the countless others before it, threatens to join the ranks of the unsolved mysteries, leaving the true perpetrator free to roam in the shadows.

Pull yourself together, Detective Ace. I am not the killer you relentlessly pursue. Gather your wits, for there's a web of deceit waiting to be unraveled, and the truth yearns to be set free.