Under the Layers

2: Deadly Dance(II)

Warning: This chapter contains depictions of violence.

"You don't look like an officer."

Levi turned to see the owner of the blade. His eyes widened only to see a tall curly haired dancer.

Francesca Griffin.

Francesca? The wailing dancer?

"I didn't know dancers carried blades around," he said in a half mocking tone.

"Of course we have blades. It's to protect ourselves from the likes of you."

"From the likes of me?"

"Yes. As in louts."

He scoffed, "What's more lout like than a woman who takes photographs of a man and writes down his daily activities. So calling me a lout is a little hypocritical, don't you think?"

"Who knows? Maybe I took a liking to him," her dark red lips curled into a smile.

"I'm not sure if you're the type who likes those kind of people, considering the things you wrote about him in those notes of yours," he pointed his nose at the pieces of paper scattered on the floor.

"You read my notes?" she raised her eyebrows and her grin faded, "Wow, you really are a lout."

He grabbed her wrist and she gave him a blow on his nose which made him lose his grip on her.

His eyes watered and and he stumbled a few steps back.

"Aw, are you crying blondie?" she mocked.

He rubbed his eyes and scoffed, "I'm just getting started."

He extended his arm to punch her in the face then she arched back, grabbed his arm, flipped him and pinned him down with her foot.

A blade stuck out of her heel and was a few inches away from his face.

Wow she's... actually better than I thought, Levi thought.

"Do you think I killed Swanson?" she realized, pressing her foot harder against his chest.

"Are you going to kill me?" he panted, attempting to shift his head away from the blade.

Francesca let out a scowl, "No. It's against my principles. But I can harm you so you better watch yourself." She pressed her foot harder than before.

"I don't trust you."

"Good, because I don't trust you either, Blue Eyes," she leaned closer to his face, "If I were you, I'd shut my mouth and not tell anyone about your findings or our little meeting and I would never come back," she leaned further until their faces are only inches apart, "now get out of here before I scream 'Lout'."

She kicked Levi with the foot she used to step on him and he dusted his clothes but unfortunately, a footprint was still imprinted on his suit. He tucked his platinum blond hair behind his ear and picked up his hat.

Remembering her threat, he made his leave.

☬

The show had ended the moment Levi walked out of the dressing room and the audience was making their leave.

He crashed into a taller man with tan skin and silky black hair. When the man made eye contact with him, Levi let out an apologetic look, "I'm sorry, I-"

"Be careful next time," he walked away from him.

His tone was calm yet it sent chills down Levi's spine. He didn't know whether he was being nice or mean.

He brushed it off then continued walking home.

The streets were calm and tranquil. Usually few people walked down that area by that time which was why he enjoyed it.

He opened the door to his home and went inside. He washed up, slipped into a pair of pants and a shirt and sat on his bed.

Levi took photos of the evidence he had found earlier so he went through each of them.

Most of them were unclear but the few that were had some things that were unclear to him.

One was a photo of Jacques Swanson with some documents and the rest were his everyday schedule. One of them said in bold:

Meeting with Montgomery at 5:30 p.m. Monday, Wednesday, Friday

Sunday(3:00p.m.).

Montgomery? Who in the world is Montgomery? he wondered. I should check the records tomorrow, they should have something.

He looked at the photo of the man and it was clear that he was of noble blood because of the crest pinned on his suit and the firm expression on his face.

He took down notes in his journal and later thought about the woman, Francesca Griffin. What surprised him was how the woman had somehow made a connection with him. Her kind of people were not to be associated with especially the ones with low class. Maybe there was something about her that intrigued him.

She took down notes of his everyday life and had been keeping tabs on him. What if she killed him under someone's orders? Or what if she did it all on her own. For money maybe?

As he pondered on his dilemma, he drifted to sleep.

. ☬

He got up, washed up and changed in his police uniform and went downstairs for breakfast. His father, Elon Rhodes was already awake and breakfast had already been served.

His dark eyes narrowed at him as Levi sat.

"Good morning, father," he slightly bowed his head and began to eat.

"Where were you last night? I didn't see you."

Oh no, he thought.

He set a rule that he must come home immediately after work had ended which was ten o'clock.

But Levi came an hour late. What explanation was he going to give him?

"I had to handle some things at work," that was only half of the truth. He purposely omitted the friendly meeting he had with Noa because his father would make a fuss about it if he did.

"Don't let that repeat itself. You should finish your work before closing hours."

Levi nodded, "Yes father."

They both are their breakfast in silence which was normal because they never had a normal conversation.

He wiped his mouth with a napkin and left the house. A sense of relief filled his heart. Being with his father in that room was so suppressing for him.

☬

At the precinct, Levi made his way to the archives. The bright lighted room had files organized by year and in alphabetical order.

"Oh hey, Levi," the archivist, Michael Smith greeted, "what can I help you with?"

"As a matter of fact, yes." he slid his hands in his pocket, "I'm looking for a man that goes by the name of Montgomery?"

"Oh really, which one?"

"Which...one?" Levi repeated.

"Yes, the name Montgomery is quite common. I suggest you need an extra pair of hands going through each and every one of them."

"How...common is the name, Mike?"

Mike got out five boxes, "Does that answer your question?"

He tried so hard to hold back his groan.

He failed.

"Alright," he took a box, "let's go through all of these."

"Oh and by the way Levi, what do you need it for?"

He decided to tell him the truth, "It's for Earl Swanson's case."

"Oh alright."

Hours past and they searched men and families with the name but none were the ones he was looking for.

They were down to the last box. Still fatigued, they went on.

"Is this the man?" he forced himself to raise his arm to show Levi another man.

"No," his eyes widened in realization, "wait a minute. Mike, give me that!"

He handed the paper to Mike.

Levi compared the two photos together. It was a match. Same hair, same skin color, same type of glasses and same hairstyle.

"Yes, this is the one!" he exclaimed.

Thank God! he cried within himself.

According to the records, his name was Adam Montgomery, forty three years of age and the marquess of Crackstone.

"Thanks Mike," he got up and ran out of the room.

Levi had to tell Daniel his findings so that they could continue the investigation. Then his mind replayed those words:

If I were you, I'd shut my mouth and not tell anyone about your findings or our little meeting...

And that was exactly what he did, he shut his mouth and went his way.