Deception

A bolt of pain searing through his head indicated he was still alive. He opened his eyes; bound to a chair, he was, unable to move anything except his head, which now felt heavy, he looked around. There was a candle suspended above his head, its wax falling on him, hot. But he wasn't in immediate danger; or at least he thought he wasn't. He felt wet: someone had splashed water on him, but he doubted whether it was water at all: it felt strangely oily. It was a few more minutes before his sense of smell returned to him, now though the innocent little candle didn't look innocent at all; for he recognized what he had been splashed with.

Petrol.

The string suspending the candle above him was tied to a small but heavy metal box placed on top of a desk. Inside the metal box, there was another candle placed directly above the string. The box too was filled with petrol; and when the candle got short enough, it would burn the string holding the former candle. The candle would fall, setting Matt on fire. He tried to move the chair but it was stuck. Panic-stricken, he decided it was best to do what everybody else does: shout. But the assailant had seen to that as well: there was a piece of duct-tape over his mouth.

Regardless of the gravity of the situation he felt a sudden urge to laugh at the irony: how had he not been aware that his own mouth was taped shut? He looked at the candle on the desk, any second now it would touch the waiting petrol.

Then everything happened all at once: the flame cracked, exploding the little box. Something crashed onto him from behind pushing him forwards, and away from the deadly candle. Fire erupted where he had been mere seconds ago.

"Man am I glad to see you!" screamed Matt.

"I got your message and thought you might need a little help," said Chuck. He was smiling, using a fire extinguisher to put the flames out.

"Well you thought right, I think the killer knocked me out and tried to kill me. He almost succeeded!"

"I hate to say I told you so," said Chuck, "But I think you've got something to say to me."

"Alright," said Matt, as Chuck freed his hands and began to untie his legs, "I admit it I was being small-minded."

"and ..."

"and I'm sorry I said the things I said."

"and ..."

"and you deserve to be a detective just as much as I do, maybe even more."

"and ..."

"and I was a blithering idiot!"

"OK, now that makes it a bit complicated 'cause I was gonna make a buzzer sound and say you're wrong," said Chuck, "But that works too. Anyway I was gonna say 'Let's go catch that killer!'"

"I missed you, man," said Matt.

"I missed you too, mate."

"Oh and uh, one more thing," said Matt and slapped Chuck as hard as he could in the face.

"What was that for?!" cried Chuck.

"For trying to act cool and waiting until the last minute to save me!"

"But you've got to admit it, it was cool."

"Yeah, OK. Let's go catch ourselves a killer."

"YES!" said Chuck, triumphantly, "But first, more importantly, let's go get a smoothie!"

"HELL YEAH!"

"When did you come to your senses?" asked Chuck, sipping his favorite, the Mango Marvel, which had had all its powers returned.

Matt took a swig and started to give the details of his dream and the questions that had formed in his head. He explained how he had weighed out the scenarios and had no choice but to accept Chuck's story.

"How the hell did you accomplish all that in a dream?" asked a bewildered Chuck.

"The inner mechanisms of my mind," said Matt and he paused for dramatic effect, "Are an enigma!"

"Is actually another way of saying 'I happen to be crazy!'," said Chuck, a matter-of-factly.

"The point is: I reckon you were right. This isn't Rachel's style and if you really look at it, the evidence doesn't add up."

"Alright, now that we've established that, what is the plan of action?"

"Now we move in for the kill."

"And you have a plan do all this?" the tone suggested that Chuck seriously doubted Matt's abilities.

"Chuck, who am I?" asked Matt, smugly.

"Pirates of the Caribbean – At World's End when Jack was talking to Becket," said Chuck, and seeing the look Matt was giving him, "Okay, fine. I'll do it"

Chuck pretended to be confused.

"I," said Matt, "Am Sebastian Matthew Desrosiers the Third."

"Alright Sebastian Matthew Desrosiers the Third, what's your grand scheme to apprehend our elusive friend?"

"Glad you asked."

"Since the investigation is ongoing we cannot reveal much, but I will say that a witness has come forth and is willing to testify against the murderer, but as the killer is still out there we cannot disclose any information about the witness. All we can say is that the witness had acquired photographic evidence of the murderer. As soon as the witness comes forth and testifies, this individual will be placed under 24 hour witness protection. No further comments!" said the Chief on National Television.

Matt closed the live broadcast on his phone and after pocketing it, he knocked on Sarah's front door which swung open rather quickly.

"Good Morning, Sarah," said Matt, "I hope I'm not interrupting."

"Oh Matt!" she said, staring at him in mild surprise, "Oh no, of course not. Please, do come in. Have a seat."

"Thank you," said Matt as he entered, "I see you've heard the latest development."

Matt gestured to the television which was showing the news.

"So is it really true?" she asked as they sat down on the couch, "Is there really a witness who saw the murderer?"

"Oh yes, he says he even has a photo of the killer, seems he is a paparazzi photographer and was trying to capture a night time picture."

"A photo?" repeated Sarah, "Now that should definitely help you catch this killer, I hope."

"Well maybe, I mean we first have to identify who the person in the photo is and besides, we don't exactly know who this witness is or even if he's telling the truth: we only managed to reach him and convince him to testify because of a another criminal we interrogated recently.

"Oh another criminal?"

Matt told her about Rachel Grant, how she was a professional thief and how she had been originally accused of being the murderer.

"However," he explained, "We figured out that it was someone else; and since during the interrogation she had mentioned that she thought she had a pretty good idea who the real killer was, we, my partner and I, tried to weed that information out of her; but her accusation was desperately unlikely, but then she said she knew this paparazzi guy. So we made a deal with her to let her go in exchange for giving us the information we need. Better yet: she said she'd present us with a witness with photographic evidence; apparently he was a personal friend of Rachel's. So she talked to him and arranged a meeting at the abandoned parking lot behind The Hill at one o clock tonight."

But realizing had said too much he added, "Oh, but I've said too much! It'd best if you keep this to yourself, Sarah."

"Oh, yes of course," she said.

"So, only this Rachel person knows the whereabouts of the witness?" asked Sarah,

"Afraid so, but don't you worry we are pretty sure she's not lying because she'd be convicted if he didn't turn up."

He then changed the topic of the conversation by asking her how she was coping and they kept talking for a long time and she told him how they had been friends since college but as she kept talking about Amy she finally lost her grip and started to cry. Matt moved over to her side and comforted her and she rested her head on his shoulder and Matt wrapped his arm around her. He thought of Jen; how she had never really expressed herself to him, but he loved her; and once upon a time, so had she. The two of them sat together in their silent company occasionally disturbed by a sniff from Ms Burnley.

He retracted his arm and she stood up to go to the bathroom and when she came back Matt told her that it was time for him to leave.

"OK and thank you for everything," said she.

"Just doing my job, ma'am," said he, dramatically putting on the mysterious hat which had just appeared out of thin air. She was rattled by the sudden appearance of a hat, but thought the better of it and didn't question him.

"If it wasn't for you, I would never be able to get over this," said she, and abruptly hugged him; they broke apart rather quickly and she moved several paces back, blushing.

"Good bye, Ms. Burnley," said Matt, smiling and tipping his hat.

A hooded figure emerged out of a car and leant on it. It was a dark and silent car park. The surrounding trees whispered soundlessly to each other and The Hill casted a long, ghostly shadow over it. Nothing short of what was expected during the night; except for the unusual behavior of the man in the cloak, but he was not alone. A second person walked up to the former, appearing out of the shadows. The latter too was wearing a hooded cloak but was shorter than the man leaning on the car and also thinner, with a build that of woman, but just as she had reached him, she pulled out a gun and pointed it right at the man's head.

The man however remained calm; for unnoticed by the woman, he had back-up. A second man crept up from behind the woman and pointed his gun at her head.

"Drop it," said he.

The woman hadn't expected this and the moment she let her guard down the man took the opportunity to wrestle the gun from her. The second man locked the woman's hands behind her back and held her steady. The first man reached out for the hood and removed it.

"Sarah Burnley," said he, as he moved close to her until they were just inches apart and removed his own hood.

"Surprised to see me?" asked Matt, coolly; Sarah gasped. Chuck rolled his eyes at Matt's behavior, "You thought you could get away with it, didn't you? Well you don't mess with the law," said Matt, "Justice is a non-corrosive metal!"

"Hey that's good. Where'd you get that from?" asked Chuck.

"Megamind," said Matt, happily, and then resumed his act of being the 'cool' detective. As he stared in to those deeply gorgeous eyes, he noticed that Sarah was looking into his own; and hidden in the deep depths of those two desperately pretty black eyes, he saw relief.

"Take her away," said Matt, confused and as Chuck pushed her into the car, he stood there blindly gazing at a tree, "I'll never understand how a girl's mind works."

The light was switched on in the interrogation room where Sarah was seated at one end of a long white desk. Matt assumed seat in front of her and Chuck paced the floor. The silence was deafening, so at long last, Chuck broke it.

"OK, this silence is eerie," said he.

"So why'd you do it?" asked Matt. Ms Burnley didn't appear to have heard him.

"WE KNOW IT WAS YOU!" screamed Chuck, "How was that?"

"It was good," smiled Matt.

"Thanks."

"Can't remember, eh?" asked Matt, turning his attention to Ms Burnley who seemed to have lost her ability to talk, "Well, Chuck, I think we need to jog her memory."

"Oh yeah," said Chuck in a very odd manner, "I love jogging memories."

"What does that even mean?" asked Matt, utterly confused.

"It's for effect," said Chuck, apparently he thought that that was common knowledge. Matt rolled his eyes and rested them on Sarah, yet again.

"You wanted to kill Amy Scaglietti for days because you were the brains behind her success," said Matt, "You were the one who solved all the puzzles, the riddles and you were the one who truly devised the plans to bust all the criminals; yet she was the one who got all the credit. One day you decided enough is enough, and plotted to kill her. You were just too smart to get caught, what could go wrong? How did you do it? You learned about Rachel Grant after Amy bought you the lipstick and you posed as Alice Longworth."

"It wasn't hard for you to befriend Rachel," contributed Chuck, "You two are very much alike, you're smart, she's smart, she likes what you like, you like what she likes; and I like smoothies!"

Matt looked at him, perplexed.

"Then," he continued, "You borrowed her lipstick and then fell of the grid; not a difficult thing for you: after all, it was your previous job to help people disappear and start new lives."

"And after that, Sarah," said Matt, Chuck looked at him from the corner of his eye, "You used an untraceable line to contact Rachel and hired her for a job and anonymously tipped of Amy about this theft."

"The unsuspecting Amy thought it a great idea to catch the infamous Rachel Grant on video," said Matt, "No doubt this would make her a legend among reporters. Regardless of her flaws, she was a skilled field reporter so she was able to pull it off; but you knew that didn't you: that she'd get it? So, shortly afterwards, you killed Amy and placed the lipstick you got from Rachel there as evidence and wrecked the place to make it look like she was searching for the video. But of course you knew where the video was, so you didn't check the bed because you wanted us to be intrigued by its curious state so that we would eventually find the video and think that Rachel hadn't. Then you tipped off Rachel by telling her that there was a video so she would behave a bit odd.

"After that," said Chuck, "All you needed to do was place the murder weapon in her apartment and she would have gone to prison for the murder of Amy Scaglietti. You chose the day before yesterday to plant it considering the fact that Rachel wouldn't be home, but you never expected Agent Matt here to be at the apartment, so you, hastily, improvised. You incapacitated him and attempted to burn him along with the apartment and incriminate Rachel even further. Ingenious, the accused burns the accuser in her own apartment. Little did you know that by then, we had already figured out that Rachel didn't do it."

"You see , once upon a time Chuck and Rachel were as thick as thieves."

"And after we parted ways, so to speak, I went on to become a cop and specialized in criminal profiling. And in my eyes, the crime just didn't fit Rachel's profile, because for one thing, you used a .45 caliber gun, a Jericho 941F in this case, but Rachel only use's her father's 1973 Ruger Vaquero single shot .347 magnum revolver, sort of her trademark; all the big ones have it you see. They don't want to lose the credit for something they did to someone else, do they?"

"If you had done your research a little bit more thoroughly," said Matt, "You would've figured that out."

"And secondly, she's an impeccable shot; I've never known her to miss her mark. EVER! Mostly though Rachel is a bit of a pacifist so she don't kill, she just impediments them; besides, Rachel is too good to get caught."

"Which is what led me to suspect you: I mean it's simple, really, you have the spare key to Amy's apartment; there were no signs of a break in so obviously the assailant used a key."

"So we set a little trap for you," said Chuck.

"First, we got the Chief to make a false statement about a witness to the murder."

"We knew you'd take the bait."

"When you heard news about a witness, you panicked; and when I turned up at your place, you were clearly surprised. And then, you confirmed with me if it was true, albeit you were pretending to be the grieving friend, worrying about the progress of the investigation of your dear friend's murder. And you did it very well."

"Unaware to you, Agent Matt here is an expert on body language, well he knows what he'd doing, and was able to see through your deception."

"Deception, nice word," commented Matt.

"Thanks I thought so too," whispered Chuck, "Then purposely began to reveal critical pieces of information about the case. Having majored in acting in college, in attempts to become an actor, Matt was too good for you to see his lie."

"After I told you that Rachel was the connection, you thought you could still get away with it because I said that she was under arrest until we got the information."

"And when Matt here accidentally gave you the time and date of the meeting, you decided to dispose of the witness so that Rachel would remain in prison."

"So," asked Matt, "Did we get everything?"

There was another long pause. Nobody spoke; Sarah appeared to be contemplating her options.

"OK! I did it!" said she, finally, "But it wasn't because she was famous or anything."

"Then why?" asked Matt.

"It's because she never showed me any gratitude for anything. After everything I did for her, not even a 'thank you.'"

"You killed someone over a thank you?!" cried Chuck. Sarah looked away. Matt frowned.

"I think we're done here."

"Maybe we'll see each other again," said Chuck, "In a few decades!" and he left the room but Matt remained seated.

She didn't speak; just sat there looking at her knees, her hands resting on her lap. Matt saw a tear roll down her face but she made no attempt to hide it. As he looked at her he felt an unconditional happiness inside. He stood up and walked over to her and slowly wiped her cheek with the back of his hand and she turned to face him at his touch. Her eyes were red but no less mesmerizing and as he looked at her, she stared back; her bottom lip quivered and she dropped her gaze to the floor. Matt stood there next to her; her face just barely touching his hand. He could feel her heat radiating on his hand.

He decided it was time to leave and he gave her shoulder a small squeeze just before he started to walk away.

"I didn't want to hurt you," said she, in an almost inaudible whisper, "I knew he'd save you."

Matt stood there rooted to the spot, his brain had stopped working. He couldn't decide what to do. He just stood there watching her sobbing silently, wanting to reach out for her. He didn't know how long he stayed there but as he watched her cry, no matter what she had said, he knew there was something more: something that she wasn't ready to let out. He regained control of his legs and walked out and as he opened the door, she turned around to face him one last time and he smiled at her and tipped his invisible hat.

"Good bye, Ms Burnley," said he, softly, and amidst her tears, she smiled back and Matt felt the strange warm sensation return to him as he closed the door.

"Chief," said he, automatically when he saw him standing next to Chuck.

"Boys!" said the Chief, clearly impressed, and he put his hands on their shoulders and spoke.

"You've really out done yourselves this time, I never thought that you had this much potential. And I'm terribly sorry for dismissing you earlier, Chuck, I was wrong."

"Water under the bridge, Chief," smiled Chuck.

"You boys are in for a promotion: starting tomorrow I want you to handle some very high profile cases."

"Sir, yes sir!" said Matt and Chuck together, enthusiastically, but in Matt's point of view; this case was yet to be solved.

"You know I've been thinking," said Chuck; they were back at their apartment, lying on their beds, Chuck was browsing Facebook and Matt was reading Lipstick District, "And I've realized two things."

"Yeah? What?" asked Matt.

"First, and more importantly," said he, absolutely bursting with laughter, "YOU GOT BEAT UP BY A GIRL!"

Chuck laughed as hard as he could at a flabbergasted Matt.

"What's the second?" asked Matt, frowning.

"We both fell in love with criminals."

Matt looked at him, about to argue but realized there was no point in denying it. And as he looked out the window he began to think about what had happened earlier. An eternity later, he looked at Chuck.

"I don't think we got it right," said Matt.