My Brother, as sharp as he is, had no powers of telepathy as far as I knew, so this little confession went unnoticed. The witness was still bawling her eyes out, and the three uniforms standing around her tried to soothe her, but alas, 'twas for naught. One of the uniforms looked up and greeted us with a weary smile. “We'll take over here,” my Brother said sternly. The uniform sighed and shrugged, staggering away with the two others in tow. The witness barely noticed how the uniforms left, but I suppose I'd have the same reaction if I was in her shoes. Her glazed eyes, red and swollen to the brink of disturbingly so, darted between the bodies, the uniforms who left and between me and my Brother. “We would like to ask you a few questions,” he begun in his best “I am a cop and you listen to me,” voice. His voice was normally rather Low-key and calm, but when he attached a little pressure and effort to it he could probably force a confession out of a suicide victim. The witness seemed very surprised and straightened her back, finally meeting his gaze, however, it would seem she had no means of speaking, so she simply nodded. My Brother continued by asking “When did you find your, erherm, friends?” The witness ripped her gaze from him and stared at her feet. They were rather slender and fair, draped in a pair of bright red heels that made her around a decimetre longer than she really was. However, it would seem that they were, in fact, not clocks, and thus she was left to fend for herself.
After a minute or so of her silent interrogation with her shoes, she seemed to have realized when she found her friends' beautifully crafted bodies and her body returned to my Brother. If I remember correctly, it was around 9 'o clock that I saw her gasping and crying and barfing from my hidey-hole of an alleyway. “Um, I-, hic, I think it was-, hic, at Ten?” My Brother looked over at me, and I can swear he noticed my pleasant surprise. Well, I'm pretty sure he didn't, as if he had those kinds of powers he would most defiantly have overheard my little confession. “Are you sure of that, Miss?” The Witness squirmed in her shoes, my Brother continued, “Your call was received at Nine Thirty, are you sure you found it at Ten 'o clock?” The Witness turned pale and averted her gaze once more. “I-, Well-, It was so Dark-, I,” she tried to explain, but she couldn’t create a full sentence. My Brother simply sighed and turned half a gaze to me with a pleading expression. Oh, alright Brother, ill help you. “Miss, did you notice anyone or anything when you found the bodies?” she let a breath slip out and seemed relieved that we left the somehow awkward question of when she found the bodies and instead moved on. “No, I didn't, hic, notice anything, it was so dark I-, hic, could barely even see them,” she answered through her constant tears, shooting an arrow-headed gaze to the bodies before returning her gaze to my Brother, before settling on staring at me. I see. Well, I was rather sure she never saw me, if she did shed have to be a hawk or something, so I was not too worried. My Brother inquire further by asking “What did you do when you reached the scene?”, to which I would have loved to answer “She gasped, she cried, she puked, she snooped around, she called the police,” but that would raise a whole bunch of questions I would rather not answer in the presence of my Brother. Wouldn't want to spoil the game, would I? However, it would seem the witness didn't wish to answer this either, as she said “I would like to stop this here,” by dropping into a puddle of crying and sniffing on the ground, creating a sort of “No Cops Allowed barrier.
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My Brother stared at me with a light in his eyes that whispered “She knows something,” with such pressure I could only answer with a glimmer of my own, whispering “Yes, Brother, she does,” back, in its silver-tounged way. My Brother smiled, a smile I answered with my own, and we strode back towards the crime-scene in question.
As I knew very well, there was nothing to find. No fingurrprints, no hair fibers, no name scribbled in blood saying ”Brian Smith Did It;” nothing. As such, I had almost no interest in what the lab-rats found, my Brother, however, was a different story. He darted about, asking the strangest of questions, such as, ”Have you found anything,” “Is there any blood or hair,” but most were either ignored or answer with a short “no” or “yes.” really, once my Brother had winded down he looked really disappointed, on the border of depressed. I pat him gently on the back. Pat pat pat. He looked up and met my eyes. Pat pat pat. “Stop patting, Brother, I'm fine.” Pat Pat Pa-, my Brothers gaze met mine. “Please.” I stopped patting.
My Brother and I returned to the car and he drove us back to the apartment complex we call our home. The night sky was clear and the moon shone brightly like a second sun, almost blinding me. We drove in silence, my Brother most likely lost in thoughts about what the witness had said. All I was thinking of was what to do next time. I guess now that one of two pairs had been found, it was only a matter of time. I almost chuckled thinking of how they would react, but more importantly, how my Brother would react. A faint but genuine smile surfaced on my lips. And so our evening concluded, my Brother and I parting ways at the door.
It was only a matter of time.
And I was right.
They found them the next day.