Chapter 87: Mr. Suspect
"...Just kidding," the man added after a pause.
’This psycho... What the hell are his abilities?’
"Oh, I see... By the way... what should I call you, sir?"
"Detective. Just call me Detective." He held out his right hand.
"Ha-ha, I see... Then you can call me Mr. Prime Suspect." He shook his hand in response.
"..."
"Just kidding. Witness will do." His eye twitched almost imperceptibly.
"Of course. You mentioned that you were injured by the debris, and your condition confirms that... But how did you end up with the worst injuries? At the moment of the collapse, were you on the second or first floor?"
"On the second. I got so caught up in the performance that I was singing along and shouting, almost jumping off the balcony. I ended up right at the center of the collapse."
"Really? I interviewed those who were on the second-floor balcony—the ones who, according to your testimony, should have been right next to you. And, looking at you, every single one of them said they were seeing this man for the first time. Strange, isn’t it?"
’...Please, Liliana, hurry.’
"Oh, come on. Strange? Back then, I was wearing an elegant suit and had full makeup. And now? I’m left with nothing but a pair of pants, and even those are torn. I look like a victim of a real disaster. Even my own family wouldn’t be able to tell me apart from just another homeless guy."
"That makes sense... Describe your version of what happened." The detective lifted his hat slightly, revealing dark green eyes.
"To be honest, I still don’t understand what happened..." He pressed his hand to his forehead. "It’s not that my mind’s still clouded—it’s just that that one moment I was absorbed in the music, then I heard screams in the background, and then... the ground started to give way beneath my feet. I still can’t imagine how I managed to survive."
"...It really is a miracle. You made it out alive from the epicenter of the rubble, while the other five weren’t so lucky."
"Five?! I heard people were only mentioning four..."
"That’s true. We found another body—the lead singer of the band Bengou. The strange part is that his body was found very far from the club... Do you have any theories about what happened?"
"How awful... Theories? I don’t..." He glanced around and lowered his voice to a whisper. "I heard it might have been a contract hit. They say all five members of Bengou were involved in something truly terrible."
"Is that so? Tell me more about it."
...
Each time, the detective made him talk more and more. The chains swayed like a pendulum, and those green eyes never left his for a second.
No wonder that when you’re alone with a cop, the smartest thing is to stay silent until your lawyer arrives.
The less you say, the fewer reasons there are for suspicion and accusations.
The more you say, the deeper you bury yourself.
Even though he sounded convincing, Mr. Nobody realized that with every passing moment, his situation was getting worse.
But that wasn’t something he could control.
’Is that his ability?! What the fuck, he’s pulling more and more out of me, and I can’t stop!’
"How’s your hand? Does it hurt much?"
"Oh, yeah... It’s pretty bad."
"But despite all your injuries, you’re perfectly steady. You have a strong will... Or a strong desire to hide your fear."
"...And you have an interesting job. I heard in a movie that to truly solve a case, a detective has to suspect even himself. It seems you’re a real professional."
"In the first ten seconds, you looked me in the eyes twice. Then again, in the next ten, and third time — only once. In the next thirty seconds, you make eye contact once, for the second time, and thirty seconds after that, for the first time."
"...And what is that supposed to mean?"
"That you have tremendous self-control. If you were a liar... you’d be perfect at it."
"..."
For the first time since the conversation began, Detective smiled... and it sent a shiver down Mr. Nobody’s spine.
"Let’s take a walk." Detective turned his back.
"You see, my injuries still need tending to..."
"...Let’s walk."
"Of course, Detective."
He stood up and, limping, followed him. With every passing minute, more police cars arrived, and hundreds of people were still crowding the streets.
"Do you know how Super Marty was killed? They burned him alive."
"Jesus... Why would they do that to him?" he replied in fear, catching up to him.
"You were injured in the rubble, but I can smell smoke on your body."
"Oh, probably from a cigarette."
"A cigarette? Where did you get it, since you’ve got nothing left but your shoes and pants?"
"Hmm, just borrowed it from a friend."
"A friend... How long do you think it would take for that implant in your arm to burn someone to ashes?"
’He found that out too... When? When he shook my hand? Or just by looking?!’
"...It’s not any more powerful than a lighter, so it’s hard to say. An hour, I suppose."
"Got it. Are you familiar with Ghost?"
’...He’s a fucking monster.’
"You mean the one who lives in my attic and makes all that noise? Or the one who’s always stealing food from the fridge?" He smirked. "Can’t say I do. But I’d love to meet them."
"...Witty." The detective stopped. He lifted his head and took a deep breath of the damp air. "Rain really is something, isn’t it."
"I suppose so."
"You know, looking at you, one question keeps nagging at me..." He turned to face him.
"..."
Looking deeply into those green eyes, Mr. Nobody realized one terrifying thing—this man had been toying with him from the very beginning.
"...What is a scumbag from Southville doing in a place like this?"
Mr. Nobody smiled stiffly.
"The same as everyone else? Listening to music and having some fun."
"Have some fun, you say..." The detective mirrored his smile. "In accordance with emergency protocols, please send me your Concord citizen file. To my Neodeck."
’...This is the end. I’m fucked.’
"Standard procedure, right? Of course, right now..." Mr. Nobody began blinking in confusion and touched his temple. "You know, it seems like something’s wrong with my Neodeck... Apparently, it was damaged in the collapse, and it looks like it needs maintenance."
"Really? I see... But don’t worry." Detective’s smile grew even wider. "You know that only guests were allowed at this event, right? Unfortunately, we’re having trouble finding the entire guest list right now... But for the most part, most of them know each other."
"Detective, this might..."
"One moment."
He took a megaphone from one of the officers and turned it on.
Soon his measured voice echoed throughout the area, signaling only one grim verdict...
Nobody got caught in the end.