Chapter Six - Interrogation

  Both of us carefully headed out of the room we were told to stay in. I was leading the way, looking out for any security features a multi-million mansion might have. We kept quiet, knowing that the butler is keeping a wary eye on us. If we were to be caught prematurely, it would ruin the whole operation, and burn our only lead on MC-13. The stakes have never been higher.

  There were several cameras watching us from various angles, but unlike the one in Trelton Hotel, these ones seem to only record footage with no one behind the monitor. The alarms would surely be sounding already if that was the case. Paying no mind to the cameras, we snuck through the halls, staying a safe distance from the butler’s tail. He appeared to be heading to another floor through a staircase on the left side of the hallway. Sylphie had the bright, but brash idea to go on ahead to the bottom of the staircase in order to listen to which floor he was exiting on. It was a risky maneuver, but it allowed us to follow exactly where the suspicious fellow was going.

  We made our way up the staircase, me leading the way once again, exiting at the second floor from ours. Our location was at the top of the stairs that pass into a floor that looked much more practical than the previous fancy ones. This one seemed to be the actual living quarters of the residents instead of the assembly of lavishness down at the lower floors. The butler was seen treading inside a room on the right wing of the hall. He is probably going to notify Linda Miller about our visit, and then plan on letting her leave. That is not desirable, so we headed onwards after he left our line of sight. As soon as the coast became clear, we surrounded the entrance from both sides with Sylphie. This position which we subconsciously manifested allowed us to prevent anyone from leaving, and also to eavesdrop on their conversation.

  A female voice shrieked. “What do you mean they found me?!”

  That must be Linda Miller, right in the middle of incriminating herself.

  “I understand, Madame. We must act accordingly,” the butler responded.

  “Hell no! This ain’t the time for me to get arrested, y’hear me?”

  Celebrities get caught up in all sorts of trouble, but what are the chances that they know exactly what I am here for? A conscious decision was made to conceal something, I am sure of it. All we need to do is listen for long enough to gain reasonable suspicion in order to interrogate.

  The nervous butler continued. “I propose I tell them you left for a business trip- “

  “Are you stupid? They know where I live! They’ll just show up again later!”

  Sylphie looked at me with an expression that could only be described as if it was saying “We got them”. She was right to assume that, these two evidently have something to hide.

  “Madame, I cannot escort them away anymore. I’m afraid you will either have to do as they say or flee somewhere else.”

  “You stupid butler! Why would you let them in here in the first place?” The woman cried.

  I think I get the gist of the situation at hand – Linda Miller is reluctant to talk to us since it relates to the Trelton Hotel, where she stayed the night with an infamous politician. No matter how you try to portray that, the news press will twist the narrative to put her in a bad light. Regardless of if she was sleeping with him or not, we need to know what she saw.

  I gesture to Sylphie that now is the time to make a move on them. We have heard enough to have reasonable suspicion of her actions, and if they are made aware that we heard everything, escaping will not even cross their mind anymore. With the plan agreed upon wordlessly, I barged into the room.

  “Detective Capleaf! You are hereby detained for interrogation, Ms. Linda Miller!” I yell out towards her.

  Both of them quickly turned to an expression of fear, only further proving their guilt. The butler’s stance showed that this was his failure, and the celebrity was in shock. It appears that she was in the middle of a skincare routine, since her face was plastered in whatever creams and ointments she had, and her hair was tucked in a towel cone. It was hard to see under the towel, but her hair was undoubtedly long and blonde, just like the evidence.

  “Ah! Fuck! This is all your fault, Alfred!” She screamed at the butler whose name is apparently Alfred.

  Sylphie took a stand in between them. “Sylphie heard everything. You were in Trelton Hotel along with Howard Miller, weren’t you?”

  “Linda, we only wanted a small chat from you, but your reluctance just made that appear worse.”

  The apprehended celebrity stood there in silence, with her skin seemingly gaining wrinkles from the sheer stress of the situation. The butler, Alfred, scuttled away behind us in order to hide from her watchful gaze.

  “Lies! I have never been to any Trinton Hotel!”

  Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

  “On May 2nd, traces of your DNA were present in the penthouse of Trelton Hotel. What do you have to say to that?” I challenged her claim.

  “Huh? I don’t know anything about that!” She feigned confusion.

  “Sylphie thinks you are lying,” the assistant added.

  “A strand of long, blonde hair belonging to you was found in the place where Howard Ritter was murdered. Can you explain?”

  As she slowly came upon the realization that she was screwed, her blatant lies lessened in absurdity and became more grounded towards truth.

  “Look, Detective guy. I didn’t kill no Donald, or anyone else! I don’t even know who you are talking about!” Linda struggled.

  “No one said anything about you killing him – we only know you were there, and we want to know what you know.”

  “It is the least you can do, Sylphie thinks.”

  She finally budged. “Fine! But if you leak any of this to the media, I will sue your ass!”

  After the short-lived battle of words, the situation calmed down, and Linda Miller began explaining her whereabouts on May 2nd, yesterday’s evening.

  “A while ago, me and that politician began meeting in secret. I thought of him to be a powerful man, but he turned out to be a manchild. After yesterday I planned on never seeing him again, but… not in that way.”

  “What way?” I inserted, testing her.

  “When we were in the middle of having a drink, someone entered the suite. At first, I thought it was someone from room service, but they wore some mask. And I was sure as hell that no one from room service would be wearing that! Sure enough, they were not room service to begin with – they were holding a giant fucking nail!”

  So far, everything she said was in accord to the footage I saw. She is not lying, to say the least.

  “They were a girl from what I could tell, but they certainly didn’t act like it! She started threatening Howard about some magnum opus, or something like that, I don’t remember. The worst part is, she never even fucking looked at me! The audacity!”

  “Magnum opus? What do you mean by that?”

  That is interesting – it is the first indication of a motive I have seen so far. Could the killer view his doings as art, or perhaps a project? Linda Miller is no longer a red herring, thankfully. Something of use was actually gained today, and I would certainly not mind learning more.

  “She started talking about something grandiose – I didn’t really understand because she spoke weirdly, but what I knew was that it involved killing Howard.”

  “How did the woman sound like?”

  “Eh, pretty voice, but reserved. It pissed me off to know that someone with that talent is a bloody killer!” She complained.

  The Face’s identity is already half-known, yet we are still so far from the end. A silver-haired female who wears a non-smiling mask. She is the hand of the true mastermind from what we know. There is no saying if catching her will lead to the end of MC-13, but it will prevent a good number of murders.

  “What happened afterwards?” I asked.

  “I would tell you, but the bitch knocked me out before I could do anything! Look – there is still a bruise on my neck!” She exclaimed, pointing at the wound on the side of her neck.

  “I see, go on, please.”

  “When I woke up, Howard was sitting on a chair, and that delinquent was nowhere to be seen! I tried to talk to him, but he wasn’t responding. At that moment I knew, the media would be on this shit. I could see the headlines already! ‘Superstar Linda Miller suspected of murder!’, hell no, I left that place as soon as I called security.”

  “So you were the one who called security?”

  “Duh! Who else?”

  That certainly closes that whole ordeal – Linda was the first person to know about the murder, but because of her famous profile, she could not stay at the hotel because of paparazzi and other pests that could ruin her reputation. The part when she was blanked out on the floor is when the Face killed Howard. It is still unknown how exactly the kill happens, we only know the results of the action, not how it happens. But Linda Miller has certainly proved to be an effective witness. We have managed to scrape up a hint at a motive, something that could be a groundbreaking discovery for a detective. Nothing regarding the killer’s whereabouts could be found, but we did not come out empty-handed either.

  “Linda, Thank you for your time. We have nothing else to discuss,” I turn towards the door about to leave.

  “Don’t forget! A word about me and- “

  “Yeah, yeah, I get it,” I then waved her off.

  The operation was successful. However, it could have very easily gotten out of hand. One small slip up, and the butler would have seen our efforts to catch Linda. Thankfully, we were only dealing with a foolhardy witness, and not a potential murderer. If it was the latter, a lack of evidence would not have been the only consequence of failure.

  Sylphie has also proven to be somewhat capable, even if she stayed on the low the whole time. I assume she did that on purpose, since she claimed she wanted to see me prove myself. Given her newly-found expression of contentment by my side, I assume I succeeded in that side-quest. She also sat in the shotgun seat this time around, that could also be a sign of success. I must admit, I did underestimate her to an extent – she does not behave like your typical detective in the slightest, but she is just as capable as any other A-tier. There are still some doubts, like why her appearance was so sudden to me, a detective who has been here for a long time. Or the fact that she has been repeatedly assigned to MC-13 as the Assistant Detective, that is also vexing. For now, I could rely on her, but keeping a safe distance from her would also be wise.

  I have a feeling that this case will only get worse from here. We are back to the point where we have nothing to put our focus on. The Trelton Hotel has only one question left unanswered, and that is how the keycard door opened on its own. We could investigate the network access, however, that is not my expertise and something more akin to Debrief’s doing. Also, something so simple as a trace of breaching is probably already covered up with the dirt - this is MC-13, after all.

  After a while of driving through Misult City, I dropped Sylphie off at the detective office. As for myself, I think I am done for the day – sitting in office doing nothing is not ideal as of right now. My watch reads ’12:48’, too soon to go to Bammy’s, and too late to go home for the rest of the day.