Veil of Crimson

The Phantom Killer

“Mr. LeBlanc, I appreciate your hospitality and all that, but leave the car alone,” I tell him, sending him a nasty look, before turning the car on. “Now, tell me where I have to go, please,” I then add, turning my gaze towards him in expectation.

He has that smug smile on his face again, pointing to the back alley. “Around there and behind the corner. I’ll open the door for you,” he lets me know. I glance at him shortly, then turn the car and drive to where he’s pointed at.

As we get into the back alley, he tells me to stop. He then hops out, unlocks the gate and opens it for me, motioning for me to drive in. As I do that, he shows me where to leave the car, then goes back to where he just came from to close the gate.

I get out, realizing that I’ve found myself somewhere near the backyard. I can see the pool from here and I realize this whole area is way more luxurious than I can afford. Is he really giving this house away for fifteen hundred per month? Isn’t it a little … I don’t know … low? Elise, stop complaining, it’s not like you can afford anything above that price.

He points me to the right house as he realizes that I’m a little confused about where I’m supposed to go. I finally see the back door, recognizing it from the way it looked from the inside. “Thanks for everything. Can we meet in the afternoon to sign the contract?” I wonder, wanting to get rid of him now that he’s shown me around the property.

He nods in response, shoving his hands into his pockets again. He seems to do that a lot. Hiding something? There’s no other way I can read his body language. “Anything for a pretty lady like yourself. You can stop by Fleur de Lys after your shift. I’ll prepare everything,” he tells me.

I stare at him blankly, just letting out a long sigh. “Yeah, okay. Sure. Good night, Mr. LeBlanc,” I tell him, hearing him clack his tongue in a mixture of disappointment and disapproval.

“It’s Adrian, Detective, I’ve already told you that. Good night,” he greets me back. I turn around and walk towards the back door. Before I grab the doorknob, something tells me to check if he’s still standing there.

But as I turn my head, he’s nowhere to be seen anymore. I furrow my eyebrows in confusion. Where did he go so fast? I shake the strange feeling off, then head into my new home. Apart from the part where LeBlanc is my newest landlord, I actually like this place very much.

It feels nice, being able to stay at my own place, but I’m still a mess when I wake up the next morning. I feel strange, because I’m not in the bed that I’m familiar with. However, I soon remember that this is the bed that I’m going to be sleeping in for a while now. And it’s a really comfortable one.

I haven’t managed to unpack yet, because I was too tired yesterday evening. I simply locked up the doors, took a shower, then fell asleep as soon as my head touched the pillow. I also know that the fridge is empty, so I stop at a nearby diner before going to work. I passed it yesterday evening and I couldn’t help but check if it’s open before my shift starts.

I spoil myself with eggs and a milkshake, knowing that I’ll have to cut down on the carbs a little. I’ve had too much of them in the past few days.

On the bright side, my new house is now so close to my workplace that I have some time left to spare before I head to the station. So, I end up doing the one thing that I’ve been meaning to do since the moment I left Brandon. I go to the nearest pawn shop and sell my ring.

It hurts to be selling what I thought was my future. But I know that I can’t think like that. Not if I want to stay sane. Perhaps I should be grateful that I managed to get rid of the man who I thought would bring me happiness, but instead hurt me in the worst way possible.

I force myself to stop thinking about Brandon the moment I sit in my car. I shut off all those feelings that keep stirring inside me. Sadness. Anger. Shame. They’re not who I am at the station. At least I’m trying to achieve that.

As I come in, I get met with a thick file of reports on my desk. I ask the nearest officer what this is all about and he explains that they’re interviews of potential witnesses. I don’t like the adjective at all, and I have no one else to release my frustrations on … So, I end up snapping: “What are potential witnesses supposed to be? Either we have witnesses or we don’t!”

The officer doesn’t even flinch at my tone. Yeah, well. I guess we’re all used to being shouted at. “They’ve been interviewed after we got the tapes from traffic cameras and ran recognition on their faces. Most were locals,” he explains.

I take a deep breath, feeling a little hopeful, before an alarm rings inside my head. “Wait a minute. Why were you interviewing witnesses? What about the killer? Weren’t they visible enough on the tapes? Were they masked?” I keep questioning him.

He seems hesitant for a moment, then lets out a sigh. He motions for me to follow him. “I’ll let you see for yourself,” he says, making me get a feeling that I’m not going to like this one bit.

I follow him down the office, passing through the hallway to get to the room, where out techs are. I’m surprised when I see Didi there. “El, hey! What’s up? How’s life as a big bad detective?” she greets me.

I can’t help but smile at her enthusiasm. “Hi, there. Well, my mood depends on the tapes that I’m about to see. But judging by what Kirk here has hinted at, I’m guessing I won’t be liking detective life all that much,” I respond.

She frowns, patting my shoulder in a friendly way. “Aw, don’t ya worry about that. I’m sure ya’ll get a break in the case sooner or later,” she assures me, her friendly gaze making me feel a little better about myself.

“Thanks, Didi. What are you doing here, though?” I then wonder, making her shrug. She gestures at the lads, sitting behind the computers.

“I’m here to brighten the days of these lonely fellows,” she declares, earning herself a look from one of them. “Just kidding. I had to check some security tapes for the latest case I’m looking into. I’m telling ya, people would do just anything to cover their tracks,” she sighs.

I nod in response. “Yeah … I can feel that,” I murmur, then turn towards Kirk, who’s already instructing one of our colleagues which tape to pull up. As he turns towards me with a solemn face, I’m not in the mood for jokes anymore. “Well, I guess that’s my cue. I’ll see you around,” I tell Didi, who offers me a sympathetic smile.

“Sure thing. Good luck with ya case, Detective,” she tells me before leaving. My face falls at the way she addresses me, because it reminds me of LeBlanc. I’m already dreading the afternoon, when I have to meet up with him.

“Thanks, Didi,” I still mumble before turning towards Kirk, who’s waiting for me to get closer to the screen. Once I do, he motions for the guy behind the chair to hit play. I look closely, soon noticing the running clock. “That’s right around the time of the murder,” I observe.

Kirk nods, then says: “This it right when Roberts got in,” he explains. Not even a couple of seconds later, I can already see him entering the restaurant through the main door. The tape is as clear as the day. With any luck, we could see the face of the killer clearly.

I wait and wait, but nothing happens. People pass by the door, but no one goes in. Why is that? We’re getting way too close to the time of murder now. I watch anxiously, already getting a dreadful feeling that we’ve hit another dead end.

“What the hell is this? Why is nothing happening?” I voice my thoughts, while Kirk watches the tape with his arms crossed against his chest. He shakes his head.

“Wait a second,” he tells me, making me squint my eyes to see everything more clearly. As the exact minute of the victim’s murder passes by, I can’t help but feel completely hopeless. There are people walking by, but no one got in. Until suddenly, the door of the restaurant swings open from the inside and reveals a familiar face that makes all blood disappear from my face.