Professor Stone always believed in following the evidence, for they can never tell a lie. But even then he would come across moments where he either has no evidence to work with or end up with blank answers.
So he often cheated and tried to read the behaviour of the enemy. Something as small as a victorious smirk or sudden start and stop of tears would give him the necessary inspiration of where the key evidence would be lying within the crime scene.
All of this allowed him to cultivate a strong sense of judging one’s character. Why, he’s used this very skill to determine the honesty in Martial Kim and the sincerity of Keekee during the early case of the Belt Rapist incident.
Without it, this story would have been completely different.
Granted, Prof. Stone wasn’t on the same level as those experts in the criminal Behaviour Analysis Unit, but he was confident he was top 10 in judging good or bad people within this small town.
However, the moment he stepped into the Taxi Driver’s hospital room – he wasn’t sure if he was even top 30 any more.
“Please sir! Don’t throw me in jail! I didn’t mean to kill her! Honest! Don’t arrest me!”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. L-let’s take a breather for a bit. No one is in trouble, the police are sorting that out. Just lay down and rest.”
God. The Motor Patrolman said shaken, but it was a complete understatement.
The Taxi Driver was curled up in layer after layers of blankets within his bed. Any more and he would have been a turtle tucked in its fragile shell. He peeked with eyes wider than saucer, as if they had seen the true horrors of a real exorcism with their eye-lids taped open from beginning to end.
Of course his hair didn’t magically transformed into a bleached white, but his skin was only two shade points away from blending into his own hospital bed.
Prof. Stone felt guilty, just talking to him right now. “Sir, I need to ask you a few questions. I know this is difficult for you, but it is very important.”
“I didn’t want this to happen! I couldn’t! I just couldn’t!”
“Couldn’t what?”
“StOp! I couldn’t hit the brakes in time! Sh-she just appeared, out of thin air, a-and right in front of me! Oh god! The second she entered my lights, I-I couldn’t stop the car in time! Oh god, I killed her! I killed her!”
“.......”
She isn’t dead...is what Prof. Stone would have said.
Hell, anyone in his position would have said the exact same thing, to ease any guilt building up in the person. Who here has ever been in an accident, light or severe, and not felt terrible for hurting the other party – let alone put them into critical care.
However, Prof. Stone wanted to be ABSOLUTELY sure there was no sort of foul play or even hidden intention behind this ‘accident’.
What if this was a hit? Keekee was targeted? Or a crime of opportunity gone wrong? Think about it: a girl far away from home being run over at this time of night? What are the cosmic odds?
So, the forensic chemist had to play the role of villain for now – much to his chagrin.
“After dropping off your latest clients,” Prof. Stone asked, “you were on your way to your taxi headquarters, right? In between that and the car accident, did you see anything? Notice anything completely abnormal?”
“NO! Nothing!” The Taxi Driver screeched from within his shell of a blanket, “I-I was alone – or I think I was. No headlight behind me, no car in front of me either! Why, it got so quiet and boring I...I...uh...”
“Fell asleep?”
“I-it was only for a MiNuTe! I swear!...Oh no. Y-you’re going to take away my license, aren’t you! Oh no, no. I’ll be out of a job! And I’m a murderer!? Oh god, I-I’m going to throw up!”
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“W-wait, wait! Bag! Where’s a bag!?”
Oooooof. Prof. Stone may be used to blood and gore, but people throwing up was never a pleasant sight. Fortunately he rescued the hospital floor and shoved a barf bag for the Taxi Driver to...feel better.
“Bleegh. Uurg...I-I swear sir. I-I only closed my eyes—urg—for a second. I-I didn’t mean for this to happen!...God. I can still see her face! Her corpse staring at me as she hit the window screen! R-right in the eyes! Oh god! Please, sir, d-don’t take me to jail! I-I never wanted this to happen! BLEEEEGH!”
Prof. Stone winced and gave the man a moment before asking, “Was she riding a bike?”
“Wh-what? B-bike?...N-no. I—urg—I told the officer, she came running out of the woods. Like an animal! N-no, that’s not what I—uurg—meant.”
“Then how did she look like, when she ran out and before hitting your car? You’re the only one who would know the details.”
“I don’t know! I-I—urg—told you I shut my eyes! When I opened them, she was already running across the road! W-we were both horrified!”
Now the question is, Prof. Stone thought, was this fear from the incoming impact – or something else? He continued to ask, “You said the victim bolted out, from the woods off the side of the road. Do you know what for? Are you sure, there was nothing out of the blue? No loud noise? No moving shadow? Was she chased?”
“None of it! No! I-if there was someone with her, I would have told the police already! N-not that I saw that is!”
So, Keekee just showed up? In the strangest way possible and went out in the most brutal way possible? What reason? What would have caused Keekee to be so far away from her regular routes, to show up in a random place, and then get ran over?
Not to mention, the Motor Patrolman mentioned that road was usually empty around the hour. Was this really a coincidence this Taxi Driver just so happen to be passing by, or...
“Why Deer Bridge?” The forensic chemist asked, “Why that direction specifically?”
“It’s...the shortest path home?” The Taxi Driver stared, as if asked what is 1+1 at a tragic time like this. “I-it’s the closest way, b-back to the taxi garage. O-otherwise, if I went back the way I originally came, I’d be late to end my shift, or go home and sleep. I-it’s not like Deer Bridge i-is an illegal or off the road shortcut! R-right!? I-I’ve taken that way home dozens of time! N-nothing like this ever happened before! I swear!”
And of all days, the most convenient route happened to be his unluckiest.
As much as Prof. Stone wish to bring up this one in a million timing, this was more Detective Fraulein’s line of work. Prodding and fishing for answers, always judging whether or not the interviewee’s logic was sane and sound. That, or the Taxi Driver was an incredibly good actor... (Press X to doubt?)
Alas, Prof. Stone remembered his promise – he had to disappear in a few more minutes. No time to throw the book at the Taxi Driver like Detective Fraulein would...metaphorically of course.
“The victim,” Prof. Stone tried to finish up, “Anything you can tell me? Did she had anything on her person? Purse? Bag?”
“P-Purse?” The Taxi Driver stared at the ceiling for a long bit, as if trying to search for the memories within the dots of the overhead panels and lightning. “I-I don’t remember. I-it all happened so fast. I mean I stayed with her until the paramedics came but...I-I dare not look at her, not after what I did.”
“...I see. Then—”
“WAIT! PHONE! Sh-she had a phone in her hand!”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes! I swear! I-I didn’t touch her, neither did I move her. Th-they said on the TV, don’t move a body after they’ve had a car crash! Spinal injury and stuff!”
Thank god for T.V., one would guess. Then again, it had always been a double edge sword. It either feeds common knowledge, or common mis-knowledge. For now, the forensic chemist could only thank god it did some good.
In saying that...Prof. Stone still can’t figure out which side of the coin the Taxi Driver really stood on. The coin continued to tumble and tumble in his head, without a definite landing time.
“The poor girl,” The Taxi Driver flopped against the wall of his bed, staring at the ghost in his vision. “She held onto that phone as if it were her lifeline. White knuckled. I saw the paramedics, they barely pried it away from her dead grip...And she was trying to call for someone too! S-so sad.”
“Who? Who was she trying to call? Did you see a caller ID?........................oh.”
Somewhere, in this hospital.
--- ACHOO! Good heavens. How can a hospital be this cold? Are they trying to kill Miss Keekee with a cold shock!? Shameful, most shameful!
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