Under the Layers

Levi Rhodes and his partner Daniel Raleigh were in the Diamante investigating a murder that had occurred. Levi checked the closets looking for evidence then he slammed it shut to see that he had found nothing. They had searched every part of the room and found nothing. No traces of evidence, no weapon...nothing. He asked the owner for the owner of the dressing room so that he could interrogate her. Levi checked the vanity already knowing that Daniel had checked it a few moments ago. He went through the drawers, the surface and decided to check behind the mirror. It seemed awkward but you never know what you might find behind there. He held the mirror at both sides, preparing to pull it out then he heard a creaking sound. Immediately he heard the sound, he jerked his hand. Is that supposed to be normal? "This is strange," Daniel slid his hand in his hat and scratched his head, "this person left nothing behind after killing him." "Which means he knew what he was doing, " Levi crossed his arms, feeling tired. "Let's go talk to the dancer." They went to another room that is similar to the crime scene and they leaned their backs against the wall. This was unusual. A murder in this part of the city? There hadn't been any homicide cases for many months so why now? And the the victim is an Earl for that matter. But he was more than that. The police had been on his trail for months if not years but they couldn't find any evidence against him. Now he's dead and they didn't know what to do. His thoughts were interrupted when the owner came in with a dark skinned woman with her long curly hair decorated with pearls and giant feathers and her sleeveless red dress exposed her legs. Her mascara was smeared all over her eyes and tears mixed with black mascara slid down her cheeks. "It's alright now," the owner coaxed her. "Let the kind officer talk to you." He made his leave and she settled on a chair. "He's gone," she wailed, "Jacques is gone!" Daniel's expression softened but Levi remained firm, unshaken by her cries. "And he died in my dressing room!" she went on, blowing her nose. Levi detested the dancer's overdramatic expression of grief. Well that's a woman for you. "May you tell me your relationship with Lord Swanson, Miss..." Daniel tried to get her name. "Griffin. Francesca Griffin." she replied in a raspy voice. He nodded at her response. Francesca retrieved another handkerchief from the table standing in between her and the detective, "Well, we were close. He came to most of my shows and he came up to talk to me and we became friends from there." "Did he show any suspicious behavior, Griffin?" Levi asked her. "No. Not that I know of," she began to tear up once more, "and I don't even know what he was doing in my room!" Levi couldn't take her wails anymore, "That's alright. Thank you for the information. " She got up and left the scene. Levi rubbed two fingers on his temples and muttered, "I've never seen a woman that cries that much." Daniel slapped his back. "Argh!" Levi shot a look at his friend. "Have some pity on the poor girl," Daniel chided. "Her friend just died." "I could barely hear a word she was saying." "That's because you're so irritated by everything. You're also very condescending." He winced. He'd been called many things but never condescending. Was he really that bad? Daniel patted his shoulder, "Come on, let's search backstage." They both made their way out of the dressing room. Levi stopped in his tracks when he noticed the dancer he had just interrogated strutting past him. She didn't look like the same woman who had been grieving for her friend a few moments ago. Infact, she looked pretty fine. Maybe it's just his mind playing tricks on him. He recalled the time he checked behind the mirror and he heard that noise. Maybe there's more that met the eye. "Hey Levi, are you comin'?" Daniel called out. He came back to his senses and nodded his head, "Um, yes. Let's go." ☬ After the investigation and some hours of work at the police station, Levi and his friend, Noa Reagan went out for dinner. They usually go to the cafe during their lunch breaks or to avoid the stress from work. Overtime, they stopped meeting each other as often as they used to because she'd go out early or used her lunch breaks to wander off to who knows where. "Sorry we don't do this anymore," Noa cut a piece of her cake, "I have a lot of things going on in my mind." He dabbed his chin with a napkin, "Like what?" "You know, family drama." "I see what you mean." "Oh and speaking of family, how has your father been?" His father was an uncomfortable topic for him so he pursed his lips. "Oh sorry," she gaped, "I didn't mean to-" "No it's alright," he took a sip of his coffee. "It's fine." "So about your investigation, how's it holding up?" "Awkward. That is all I can say. There are no traces of weapons, fingerprints...nothing." "Have you checked the compartments?" she blurted out. Levi gave her a glance, "What?" She started to explain, "During my regular visits at the Diamante, I heard some workers and dancers say something about compartments in the dressing rooms. Oh well, maybe next time then." Compartments? he echoed in his mind. He recapped the time he tried to move the mirror and the creaking sound that came out of it. So could it be... Levi slammed both sides of the arm rest and got up. "Levi, where are you going?" Noa questioned. "I just need to check something out," he walked towards the coat tree and got his coat. "See you at work." "Levi-" before she could finish her statement, he had left the cafe. ☬ Levi slipped into his long coat and made his way to the cabaret. The only way to come into the show was by a ticket and since he didn't have any, he decided to take the back entrance. He entered Francesca's dressing room and faced the mirror once again. He took sometime to stare at himself then he pulled the mirror like he did before and settled it on a sofa. He noticed a small handle and pulled it open only to see sheets of paper. He made up his mind to go through each of them one by one. All he saw was fan mail, photographs of herself until he found something interesting. Photos of the victim and notes on on his whereabouts for the past three months. What had Francesca been doing? Friends don't track their every movements. Unless she had some sort of stalker behavior. He took photographs of them and put them in his coat pocket. Levi felt something cold and sharp that pressed against his skin that made him pause his search. Was it a knife? A sword maybe? Whatever it was, it wasn't good. "You don't look like an officer."