I groaned and rubbed my temples, the frustration evident in my sigh. Of all people, he should know better. The irony of his comment wasn’t lost on me; we used to revel in mocking each other's middle school social media usernames. It was one of the highlights of high school, after all.
"You're username up until eleventh grade was @imnotaserialkiller77 so you can't judge." I jested so as to dispel his absurd theory. He snorts almost choking on some water he took a sip right before. He looks around sneakily making sure no one was listening in.
"You swore not to talk about that anymore!" He whisper yelled with a scrunched up face. Blood rushed to his face as he tried to forget the embarrassment I reminded him of. It wasn't just the username though. That's why he's super mad. You know how life is, especially during high school years. You do a lot embarrassing stuff, sometimes you're forced to by your teachers and sometimes you do it yourself. If I even begin to mention the other stuff Leon will probably put me in his choke hold of death. I don't want to die young.
I put a hand to my mouth and mouthed. "Oops." I unintentionally chuckle knowing it still embarrassed him so much. It's kind of fun to tease him. It's like trying to disarm a bomb. As long as it's simulated and you know you're safe it's fun. But then sometimes you don't know which wire my truly cause a disaster. I might be exaggerating I don't really know but Leon can be intense when he's mad.
He points at me with his hand and gesticulated. "Hear me out." He urged then grabbed the paper out of my hand. "On may seventh, the day of the first murder, he posted this. "If I wrote his book 'A Symphony of Murder ' I would've done better. He shouldn't have mummified the man after he drained his blood. That's basically letting him die as a 'doll' like his little victims that he admired so much. I wouldn't let him die as a 'beautiful doll'." he read it and gave me a smug 'do you agree with me now' face.
I slumped back in the chair. "I mean that's suspicious. I get that the real victim didn't have formalin in his arteries but I'm sure it's not easy to get your hands on that chemical anyway." I played with the straw of my juice. Even though I always drink this pineapple juice but for some reason I'm not feeling it today.
"I'm not done." he declaimed and pulled another folded paper out of his front pocket. "On the night of the second murder he posted: "I hate people who bully and blackmail others. I hope every last one of these self hating, money hungry menaces die a painful death." He puts the papers on the table and puts his elbows on them with his chin rested in the palms of his hand.
"Okay what if it's just a coincidence." I massaged the back of my neck. I really don't want the criminal to be a fan of mine. I hoped it's someone who just read this one book and not all of mine. It hate to think I inspired a fan to commit such horrendous crimes even if the victims are the lowest scum on this Earth.
"He lives around a fifteen minutes ride away from your house." Leon interpreted my thoughts and I glance back at him. His eyes were determined. He's found him.
Okay... That's just too many coincidences. He can't be living so near on top of making such weirdly timed comments on the nights of the murder and just before they happened. I mean I don't know what to think of that.
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Although crazy coincidences do happen every once in a while like with that man who got struck by lightning twice then won the lottery but I'm still not all that convinced. I need to find something solid before I can say he did it for sure. I get where Leon is coming from now though.
"So Is he considered the main suspect now?" I asked, scratching an itch on my temple.
Leon shook his head and pointed at me with a blank face. "No you still are." Leon sighed and rubbed his face in frustration. "Cain wouldn't believe any evidence I give him because he knows you and I are friends." His eyes widen at me and he paused for a moment. "But... if we manage to find any undeniable evidence against him then Cain has to drop you." he snapped.
He's such an over reactor. I wanted to retort with something like 'no shit Sherlock' but he's trying his best and working so hard to help prove my innocence so I don't want to be annoying.
I spun my pen around my thumb. "Easier said than done. I'm not a detective and you're just a junior, how do we get the resources?" I asked
When I was fifteen I used play detective with my dad with walkie talkies and everything. We'd try to solve mini mysteries that my mom would set up. It was really fun. I remember my mom also designed a whole murder mystery party for me and my friends when I was in tenth grade and it was quite literally the most exciting thing ever. I think my parent's love for mysteries and thrillers from Arthur Conan Doyle to Agatha Christie is the reason why I am a mystery writer myself today.
Leon grabs his chair and sat on the side of the table next to me. "You're so old school. At this point of time literally anything the police have we can buy online. From trackers to wire tapes. Everything. I'll order all the things we might need." He pulls out a pen from his shirt pocket and spins it around his fingers but it flys off the table and hits the window before landing in a one of the mini flower pots stabbing the dirt. The flower pots lined the windows panes in pink, green and red. Leon's eyes travel from the pen to me, "Let's work on cracking the code." He snaps his fingers to divert attention from the pen. He laughs awkwardly and I laugh along with him.
He's asked me countless times to teach him how to spin the pen around his fingers but no matter how much I tried to teach him the pen would fly out in all directions because he uses so much force and can't seem to control his strength. I don't know why he wants to learn this useless skill, if it even deserves to be called a skill.
The code that was on the table begin to fly of the table, as if trying to remind us that we don't have time to laugh. Even if he's killing off the bad people we still need law to apply. Even if law has failed us we can't resort to such means but instead we should change the law itself. We need to make sure that the law is able to punish these criminals so we don't have to.
Like Harvey Dent said 'You either die a hero or live long enough to see yourself turn into the villain.' When we feel helpless as we've been betrayed by the very people who swore to protect us whether it is by not doing anything or just doing the wrong things entirely, then we start to find other ways. That's not right and we need to prevent the good people from needing to soil their hands.
I'm no hero, I've never been and I doubt I'll never be but I'd rather die than live long enough to become a villain.
"Hey what's wrong why are you so zoned out?" Leon waved his fingers in front of my eyes and I blinked back into reality. I zone out a lot these days and I can't help it. My head is filled with thoughts about everything and I can't sort anything out.
I shake my head and pulled out my mini notebook out of the pocket of my tracksuit. "It's nothing let's decode this."
"Olwwoh vfuhdpv wkdw vfdwwhr godvv. Zkhq brx kqez rf tke gdrk vecretv ri d suhgdwru, zkb glg brx vtaoo zkloh ke jrw pruh suhb? O'oo surwhfw wke fkloguhq lq brxu vthdg."