Deception

"The one in New York city? Why?" said Gale, clearly confused.

"No," said Matt, looking at the ceiling, "The small one in London."

"Ooooh, I can tell you that it's been robbed a few days ago," she said after a few seconds pause, "A file was stolen."

"What kind of file?" asked Chuck.

"As you may know, Citibank extends its services to a select group of individuals who specialize in breaking the law."

"Yes, but we can't prove it," said Chuck, "So what's that got to do with this?"

"Everything."

"What's so significant about this file?" asked Matt.

"That's just it," said Gale waving her hand, "Nothing. It was one about a small time crook."

"Who?" said Chuck, sipping his Mango Marvel.

"Nobody knows," whispered Gale, eerily, "Nobody cares."

"Then why would someone steal it?" said Matt.

"Dunno. Blackmail?" she shrugged, "But as I said, it wasn't one of the big players."

"Then this was a personal attack," theorized Chuck, snapping his fingers.

"So basically from what you're saying, it could be anybody?"

"That's pretty much the sum of it, Matt."

"Spectacular!" said Chuck, crossly, "Got anything else, maybe something we could actually use?"

"I don't really remember ...," said she, screwing up her face.

"Of course you don't!" grudgingly handing over another thousand, "How about now?"

"Ah ... its all coming back to me now," she said, pocketing the money.

"So, what is it?"

"I can tell you that Amy Scaglietti was hot on the thief's trail when she was killed and I gotta tell you miss Scaglietti was one for caution and she was damn good at hiding things, I wouldn't be surprised if she's left a trail of bread crumbs for you to follow.

"I paid a thousand for that?!" cried Chuck.

"Take or leave it, but no refunds!"

Matt and Chuck looked at each other, but when they looked back, she was gone.

"How do they do that?!" said Matt, impressed.

"I have no idea, so, what now?"

"I dunno about you, but I want a smoothie!"

"I'll take a Lime with Sprite and he'll have-"

"A Mango Marvel"

"You got it," said the waiter. A few minutes later he returned with their drinks.

Matt quickly took a huge gulp which seemed to have refreshed him graciously.

"A smoothie really hits the spot during an investigation, eh Chuck?

"Hell yeah!"

"So how's your grandma?"

"Oh she's ok," said Chuck taking another swig, "Turns out she wasn't having a heart-attack at all."

"Yeah? What happened then?"

"Indigestion!"

"Does stupidity run in the family?"

"Huh? What?"

"Nothing," said Matt, smiling to himself.

They sat there sipping their smoothies in silence for a while. Matt, deciding he could contain it no longer burst out.

"So you know how I've been telling you that things between me and Jenny haven't been going so smoothly?" he said "Well, the other day I was at a party with her, one of her friends, Kate, was hosting and we were together for the first half the party; but then as the party progressed in to the night we kinda got separated, I think I saw her in the kitchen getting some cake for the guests and talking to Kate but I was too busy trying to beat this dude at Halo."

"Yeah," he continued, "I know I'm not that into video games, but it was a challenge and I was gonna get two thousand bucks if I could beat him, 'cause he was like this video game god or something. I lost, but then I got a glimpse of Jen having an extremely animated conversation with this dude, Jared. It got me thinking, Jen and I haven't spent much time together lately, I mean, you remember don't you? There wasn't a time of the day when the two of us weren't texting. Now it's just a good morning and a good night. I seriously think we're fallin' apart."

"Dude," said Chuck, "Ever wondered what it would be like if they modeled a football stadium shaped like this glass? That would be bizarre, but I think it would be pretty cool too, I mean, it would definitely be an engineering marvel!"

"Were you even listening to what I was saying?"

"Oh, sorry, you were saying something?"

Matt stared at Chuck as if he were something particularly unpleasant.

"How the hell did you get a girl like Rachel to ever date you?"

"Oh well," smiled Chuck, "I'd have to say it's my attractiveness and masculine charm!"

"There's a spider on the wall behind you," said Matt flatly.

But before he had even completed the sentence, Chuck had leapt off the chair, screaming like a frightened little girl who had lost her mommy.

"Masculine charm? Yeah right!" sniggered Matt.

"Hey! That doesn't mean anything!"

Matt did an impossibly accurate impression of Doctor Evil saying "Right" in the Austin Powers series.

Chuck took up the seat away from the wall. His phone rang and he found the Chief on the other side who inquired him about the progress of the investigation. Chuck recited the details of the crime and suspects.

"Well we found some evidence and have made a profile of the killer," said he, "I'd have to say it could be a female, sir ... Yes sir I understand, sir," now sounding agitated, "But we're gonna need a little more time."

"WE DON'T HAVE THE LUXURY OF TIME, SPAULDING!" the unmistakable yell of the Chief was clearly heard even by Matt who was at least a few feet away, "GET YOUR ARSES BACK TO WORK!"

"Yes sir!" said Chuck automatically, "We will work faster, you have my word sir! We will have a report for you soon."

Chuck sighed and cuts the line.

"Chief seems to be in a good mood," said Matt, sarcastically.

"I'll say."

"What seems to be the problem?"

Chuck started to describe, very animatedly, how the press seemed to be on the mayor's ass, as a result of that the mayor was on the chief's ass, thus the chief was on their asses, and finally he concluded that they'd better be on someone else's ass soon or they were gonna be at the receiving end of some serious ass whooping!

"So no pressure at all, huh?" said Matt, quite unconcerned as he knew that this was the natural order of police work; not to mention he was also quite distracted by the thought of his girlfriend of three years cheating on him with Jared; who in his opinion wasn't even good looking: the bloody pinheaded idiot! He weighed his options for some time, steadily growing moodier by the second.

Chuck had noticed Matt's decline in spirits and had decided to drag him out of his misery; a rare occasion that indicated that Chuck was actually capable of showing and/or understanding human emotions.

"Why don't we come up with a list of suspects?"

"Huh," said Matt as if he were waking from an eternal sleep, "Oh yeah, good idea."

"So what've we got?"

"OK," said Matt, stepping back to reality and looking alert, "So we know that the murder happened around 12 midnight."

"And we know that the bullet that killed Scaglietti was a .45 caliber," added Chuck impressively.

"Yes, and that doesn't help us at all considering it's very common," rejected Matt.

"And we found a rare lipstick roll at the scene of the crime," said Chuck.

"The only two people who actually own a roll of that particular lipstick were Rachel Grant and Sarah Burnley; which gives us two suspects but nothing solid to tie either of them to the crime."

"Not to mention that Rachel has an alibi," warned Chuck, who was beginning to have second-thoughts about Rachel being guilty.

"So she says, she could be lying so that still makes her a suspect."

"Scaglietti's house was a mess, but nothing seems to be missing indicating that the killer was indeed, looking for something."

"Right," said Matt, snapping his fingers, "So that crosses out the possibility of this being an ordinary robbery and Scaglietti just got in the way; and what if the killer never really found what they were looking for?"

"It's possible, we should head back to the lab later and see if they got anything else from the crime scene. From the information we collected about Scaglietti we know that she had a maid do all the chores."

"Which means, she's also a suspect; but we don't have anything against the maid on this."

"I sent a guy from the department to her house to question her about it so we should have something on her soon," said Chuck.

Matt told Chuck that by now they had three suspects.

"We couldn't find evidence that the lipstick belonged to the killer so it could have been Ms. Scaglietti's," theorized Chuck.

Matt however had done some research on his part and had unearthed that Amy Scaglietti wasn't very keen on cosmetics. Chuck said that Matt was repeating what he said earlier but Matt was prepared for this.

"Bear with me," said he; and continued to explain that he had come to his theory thus:

"She doesn't use make up of any kind in all her reports or even in high society parties. I've checked this with lipstick guy and he reckons this might not belong to her as she hadn't even touched it. I've checked for fingerprints, DNA, the whole nine yards!"

Chuck had no other option but to accept that the lipstick had indeed not belonged to the victim. Matt continued and supported Chuck's notion that the murderer was a female due to the simple fact that they may have carried lipstick with them.

"That's still not much to work with," said Chuck.

"But it'll have to do, I'm gonna visit Sarah again," said Matt, "You go to the crime scene and see if you can find out what Tell Tale Gale was talking about."

"Got it, we'll meet back at the station in two hours."

"Okay I'll see you then," Matt stood up, fist-bumped Chuck and left. Chuck however sat there, apparently deep in thought. No sooner had Matt moved a few paces away, he heard Chuck say, "Could you have really done this Rach-".

He felt a rush of sympathy for Chuck, for he alone knew why Chuck had become so emotionally distant from other people.

Four years ago Chuck had seen Rachel for the first time and immediately fallen desperately in love with her, not knowing her dark side. He had acquainted her and they had grown quite close and six months after Chuck first saw her having a smoothie at this very bar, he had popped the question and they had started dating exclusively. The years passed and they had become inseparable, thick as thieves, but Chuck hadn't known that half of them was really a thief.

Life went on and she had taken him to visit her grandfather whom she loved like a little girl; an episode from which Chuck barely escaped with his life! But a year ago when he asked Rachel to marry him, she left him. Merely hours later, Chuck was arrested for a crime he had never committed. He then realized that Rachel had been using him. If all had gone to plan, Chuck would have been sent to prison for a lifetime; but his proposal had caught her off guard and she had been distracted that night and had narrowly escaped.

When Chuck was brought in, Matt was assigned to take notes during the interrogation but, he saw that Chuck wasn't criminal material - the fact that he was crying his eyes out for a whole week might have helped him come to that conclusion - and Matt tirelessly worked and finally proved Chuck's innocence and the real criminal was still at large. The two of them had become friends and Matt suggested that Chuck joined the INTERPOL-

Absent-mindedly Matt, gliding along memory lane, had walked past his destination.

He was greeted shortly after his knock by a pleasantly surprised Ms Burnley.

"Agent Matthew," she said warmly, "What a pleasant surprise, can I help you with something?"

"Good evening Ms Burnley and as a matter-of-fact you can," said he, "May I come in?"

"Oh! Where are my manners," said she, and graciously invited him in.

Matt replied his thanks and sat himself in the love-seat, a personal favorite. He beat around the bush for a while by talking about the weather; lame. But then he geared up and got down to matters at hand.

"Now, Ms. Burnley, I know that this might come as a little bit of a shock to you but I need you to understand that this is a murder and we must assume anyone can be a suspect. That being said, I'm not implying that you did it, but I must verify every loose end; I hope you understand."

"Yes, Matthew, I do."

"Please, just call me Matt.", and she nodded her agreement and likewise asked him to say Sarah.

"Are you familiar with this model of lipstick?" he showed her the small roll of lipstick.

"Yeah, I have one just like that. Well mines #24."

"Really?"

"Yeah, it's supposed to taste different. There are ten of different flavors. You know, like twenty to twenty-nine are the same colour but they taste different. Then the next set is a different shade of the same flavors. I'm a collector you see, and I got mine from Amy in fact."

"So you have no relation to this one here?" he indicates to the one he had brought along.

"No. They are incredibly rare you see. I'm lucky just to have one. And just so you know I have a permit for the one I own."

"A permit?" repeated Matt, baffled; also slightly amused at the idea of a legal document for a lipstick.

"Yes, as I said, I got mine from Amy, and she being a high ranking news reporter has its perks. I can show it to you if you'd like."

"That won't be necessary, Sarah," said Matt, convinced.

They talked about the investigation and Matt filled her in on everything he thought was okay to let out, that turned out to be much less than what he had anticipated so they moved on to talk about general everyday life. When she told him that she absolutely loved the Lime with Sprite he started to notice how most of his interests were mutual.

A little while later, Matt's phone rang, seeing that the coroner was calling him he figured he should take the call.

"Excuse me; I have to take this," said he, "Hello?"

"Ah!" exclaimed the doctor, "Agent Matthews, the DNA samples you sent me were an exact match."

"Oh that's great! But do me a favor and don't tell anyone about it just yet."

"Sure, may I ask why?"

"It's just that I want to confirm a few things first."

"Alright then, take care of yourself Matt."

"I will, doc, later!" and he pocketed his phone, "I'm sorry," he apologized, "I had to take that," he looked at her and when they made eye contact she quickly looked away.

"No! Not at all," squeaked Sarah. She stared at the floor for a few seconds, "Um, can I get you a drink?"

"Oh, thank you, but no," said Matt, feeling strangely warm inside at this offer, "I have to be going now."

"Oh," said she, disappointed, brushing a strand of her hair off her face, "Well if there is anything else I can do ..."

"Of course, Sarah." said Matt. As he stood up, he found himself admiring her figure: her sleek beautiful hair falling gracefully over her shoulders, the curve of her hips and those captivatingly deep black eyes, shimmering like two bottomless pools of-

"OI! WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOIN'!?" screamed a little voice in his head. He shook his head, desperately trying to shake away his thoughts but gave up as her warmth flooded over him as she shook his hand. He said good-bye to Sarah and almost walked straight into a bus as he crossed the road.

Meanwhile Chuck entered the deceased Ms Scaglietti's room to find a couple of people working there; he observed the activities of the people and randomly walked up to the nearest person.

"Hey Haley, how goes the search?"

"Hey Chuck, I'm glad you're here, I think we found something."

"Music to my ears Haley, what did you find?"

Haley went on to explain how he had noted that when he was examining the bedroom for prints, the bed seemed untouched. It alone had been disregarded by the assailant. So he reckoned the killer probably decided it was highly unlikely anything was hidden in it; he however, had had a nagging feeling and decided otherwise and found out moments later, he was right.

"And lo and behold!" cried Haley, "I found a hidden memory card for some kind of electronic device."

"A device you say?" said Chuck, "Like a camera?"

"Yeah," said Haley, "Or a mobile phone or a laptop computer; possibly an mp3 player or even a video game console such as the Playstation two. The Playstation one has memory cards too but they are obsol-"

"That's great man!" interrupted Chuck, "Did you check what's in it?"

"Well I gave it over to Carl to check it out, along with Ms Scaglietti's laptop."

"Fantastic. Thanks. Oh by the way, did you happen to get anything on the maid?"

"She didn't do it."

"How do you know?"

"Because she's been in the Whacky Shack for the last three months because apparently she thinks she's Princess Guinevere."

"Guinevere from King Arthur?"

"The very same."

"OK," said Chuck, in his usual monotonous tone, "That rules her out as a suspect."

He left Haley to join up with Carl, their techno man.

"Howdy Carl!"

But Carl didn't seem to have heard the new comer. He was staring at the screen of his laptop as if his life depended on it.

"OI! Carl!"

Still, no response.

"HEY CARL!" shouted Chuck right in his ear.

"Wha-wha-what? Oh sorry I didn't see you there."

Chuck who didn't take not-being-noticed well made a rude hand gesture.

"Really?!" he said sarcastically.

This appeared to have helped him because he looked quite normal after that.

"Yeah. So what can I do for you?" asked Carl

Chuck suggested that he showed him what was in the memory card they found

"Yeah," said Carl, "About that-"

"What?!" said Chuck annoyed at the thought that something had gone wrong

Then Carl told him that there was something fishy going on because the video they'd downloaded from the memory card had a ten minute clip missing. The clock in the video verified this as it skipped ten minutes. This new information caused Chucks expression to change from annoyance to sheer eager curiosity faster than a 'plasma-powered horse'.

"Yeah," said Carl seeing the look on Chuck's face, "So I figured since that bit's not on the memory card it's in the computer."

"And ...," said Chuck practically shaking with excitement.

"And nothing," said Carl.

"YES!" screamed Chuck before his mind actually deciphered the meaning of the words, "Wait. What?!"

"I've checked everything," said Carl. "She hadn't used her laptop for days; except once when she visited YouTube."

"You've got to be kidding me!" breathed Chuck, looking crestfallen, "So do we know if the killer got the data or what?"

"I don't think the killer got it because then she'd have taken off with the card, I mean why leave it? And besides the bed was untouched; almost like it didn't even occur to them to search there."

"So we can safely assume that the killer doesn't have it?" said Chuck, "And I bet Ms. Scaglietti's the one who hid it. Keep looking it's got to be there somewhere."

"You got it."

"Hey Chuck, hey Carl, how goes the investigation?" asked Matt who had just entered the room and walked over to check up on Chuck.

"We got nothing," said a disappointed Chuck and seeing the dazed expression Matt was wearing, "You in love or somethin'?"

"Yeah me too," said Matt, and then he screwed up his face in concentration trying to remember what they had been talking about a second ago, "I mean about not getting anything. Hey Carl can you do me a favor and look up a person called Alice Longworth and give me a report on anything you find out by tomorrow?"

"Sure thing, I'll leave it on the desk with the other case files, alright."

"Yeah, that's fine."

"Okay," said Chuck yawning and stretching, "I say we head home for a well earned rest and continue this in the morning."