Outlanders

Chapter 5: Questioning Backstories

Chapter 5: Questioning Backstories

Lawrence sat hunched in his chair, his mind scattering. His eyes continued to stare at the carpeted floor, the long table that sat in front of him was polished like wood. The legs of black rubber ends. His ears rang loudly in his head, questions filling continuously. Suddenly a sound emerged across from him, his eyes looking up to see who had come. The man was lean and strong, his shoulders wide in his white vested shirt. He wore black pants and work shoes, almost as if he was a secret detective movie star actor working for a real agency. His hair was now dry and more curlier then as it was before in the damping cold rain that soaked his raven hair. His jacket hung over his left arm, turning his head to face the young man he had only just met from last night. Lawrence’s eyes continued to stare at the man, waiting almost impatiently for his questions. The man he had only just met was named Griffin Tears.

Griffin sighed, “You don’t have to look at me that way, I’m not here to sabotage your plan..” Griffin muttered as he placed his jacket on the chair across from Lawrence. Griffin sat on the chair, the chair letting out a slight squeak from the pressure of his body weight.

Lawrence’s eyes seemed to not dare to move even a second, “Why did you bring me here?” His tone agitated.

Griffin shook his head, his fingertips holding up his forehead. “Because you are the only one who really knows truthfully about your fathers murder” Griffin spoke in turn. His composer was calm, not the slightest hint of aggressiveness.

Lawrence's body leaned forward, his arms placed on the long table separating the two of them. His robust arm making a slight clunk sound in the process. His gestures confirmed his slight interest in the conversation.

“Other detectives and police officers had speculated that your fathers death was an accident, saying that it's due to a disruption from the explosion.” Griffin continued.

Lawrence scoffed, “What a stupid excuse of a cover up…” Lawrence muttered under his breath, his eyebrows furrowing.

Griffin breathed out loudly, “As much as I agree with your statement, we don’t want citizens to grow curious about this, especially the press” Griffin answered with tone in his voice.

Lawrence’s expression continued to be cut off from Griffin, as if he were to be a kid who wanted to be in the right from a small argument.

Griffin glanced at Lawrence’s figure, the torn sweatshirt sleeve catching his eye, “I see your arm is a bit different…” Griffin said as his eyes shifted to Lawrence’s face.

Lawrence’s eyes looked at his robotic arm, the sleeve in disarray, “People don’t usually care about something like this. I don’t stay out in the open for too long for people to take a closer look at it.” Lawrence answered, his makeshift fingers opening and closing.

Griffin scanned Lawrence’s eyes, seemingly to fixate on his robotic arm. Griffin looked on to his sleeve, torn and broken up so much that as if cats decided to tear it apart.

“Seems like you’ve never changed out of your sweatshirt…Why is that?” Griffin questioned Lawrence, his hands folded in front of him.

Lawrence suddenly dropped his robotic hand on the table, the clink sound becoming an echo in the small room. “My mother had it made for me, that’s all” Lawrence answered limitedly, his eyes staring straight into Griffins. “She passed away when I was 11..” Lawrence answered once more.

Griffin closed his eyes for a moment, “I see…” Griffin acknowledged. Griffin slowly leaned back in his chair, “I’m assuming that arm is a prosthetic?” Griffin questioned.

Lawrence’s expression turned sour, “Aren’t we getting off track here?” His tone lowered. Lawrence’s eyes seem to burn into Griffin, his rage almost at his peak.

Griffin glanced in turn, his gestures composed, “Yes of course…” Griffin complied. Griffin leaned downward, his hand ruffling through his jacket pocket. A document of papers in a file was placed onto the long table, Lawrence’s eyebrow raised. Griffin leaned over the documents, opening the file and choosing a selection of papers to show to Lawrence.

Griffin slid a paper to Lawrence, “This is an autopsy report, I managed to get it a bit early before they decided to take the body to cold storage…” Griffin spoke as he pointed to a full body picture of Lawrence’s father, the image they both had seen was plastered on a printed photo, the scene playing through Lawrence’s mind. Lawrence’s eyes flickered with anger and sadness, wanting to look away from the horror he had already witnessed. Griffin's finger then glided to the major wound on his fathers body, “This, I know is no ordinary occurrence. A blow that devastating couldn’t have made a large hole in a man's body.” Griffin's tone lowered, his eyes holding his gaze.

Lawrence rolled his eyes, “Like it’s that obvious” He said sarcastically.

Griffin had begun to feel a bit tweaked with annoyance, “As much as it IS obvious…” Griffin spoke with a hint of annoyance in his voice, “You know what could have caused this”. Griffin's tone lowered, his eyes holding onto Lawrence.

Lawrence’s facade turned into an annoyed expression, “And what good would it do if I told you that? You gotta tell me what you’re gonna do with that information, very sensitive you know…” He spoke sarcastically, glancing at the glass window, seeing his reflection looking back at him.

Suddenly, Griffin slammed his hand on the long desk, his other hand grabbing Lawrence’s sweatshirt by the collar. Griffin's face was mere inches from Lawrence’s, His expression mixed with annoyance and impatience. Lawrence’s eyes grew wide in surprise, his jaw tightened.

“If you continued to be like this, I might as well forget about all of your petty squabbling, and your case to begin with.” Griffin's voice heightened in a booming tone, Lawrence’s expression faltered from his change in tone.

“This is important information worth investigating this case, so you better get your head straight, or there will be NO justice for your fathers death.” Griffin's final words sunk into Lawrence, a drop of sweat dripping from his brow.

After a moment of staring and silence, Griffin loosened his grip and sat down slowly, his composure back to his collected self. Lawrence sat in his chair, flabbergasted by the calm collected detective's change of attitude.

“Revenge is all well deserved, but get lost in it and you’ll never go back.” Griffin spoke calmly, his eyes trailing back to the paper in front of him. Lawrence begrudgingly listened to the detective's words, waiting for further details to spill.

“The body’s damage is too large, and something with a powerful force would have blown the inneards to explode on the other side, along with the ribs and spine.” Griffin continued, analyzing the photo from upside downward from his point of view.

“It must’ve been a robotic…” Lawrence spoke from his silence, his eyes glued to the photo, his expression stiff. “My father told me a story of his late boss, he had a similar death…” Lawrence continued.

Griffin's eyes lifted to Lawrence’s gaze, seeing the open stiffness in his eyes.

“I see…” Griffin answered as he lifted his hand to his chin.

“But the robotic’s have been scrapped or destroyed 10 years ago, so I would have no clue how anyone would have gotten any of their hands on it…” Lawrence said, his tone in a drift. Lawrence scanned the report quickly, his mind trying to piece together information that was already set in his head. Lawrence then flashbacked to the William Kingson incident, the documents that his father and Tristan had discussed only from those hours ago.

“Unless…” Lawrence spoke under his breath, Griffin's head perking up from his long silence. Suddenly, his mind clicked, “Unless someone was already building them…” Lawrence’s eyebrows furrowed, his memories piecing together.

Griffin leaned in, his full attention onto Lawrence, “Go on…” Griffin urged Lawrence.

Lawrence sighed, “Well I know I’m gonna get kicked for this…but I got no choice either way…” He spoke to himself quietly. “The NightWalkers are a gang, but not like all the uh…mafia crap about territory and what not” Lawrence gestured. “Let’s just say we take care of the bad guys that had some deal with us…” He continued. Lawrence hesitated, “One of them was William Kingson…a businessman in mechanical engineering, had a bit of a bad backstory, and did gambling in his early days. Had us do a few things for him, but uh…didn't go well for him..” Lawrence’s eyes quickly looked at Griffin before looking at his reflection in the glass window.

Griffin let out a large sigh, “So you were the one who bruised him up..” Griffin speculated.

Lawrence’s eyes grew surprised, his attention fully on Griffin, “You knew?” Lawrence’s eyebrow raised, his face nearly flushed in embarrassment.

Griffin chuckled slightly, “Kinda hard to miss the large bruising on his neck and a nearly broken wrist. Either it was a real big guy or someone who had supernatural strength…let alone the only person in an alleyway with a blue sweatshirt that night…” Griffin's eyes glanced at Lawrence straight on as he spoke. Lawrence’s gaze shifted to the long table, his embarrassment settling into him. Lawrence cursed to himself in the process of Griffin's acknowledging stare.

Griffin's face had turned more stern, “William Kingson…” Griffin spoke out the name quietly, his memory trying to serve him right.

“From what I heard, he has a dinner appointment with the Whites at Rose Withers Restaurant, in Wilton..” Lawrence spoke out from the moment of silence.

Griffin then glanced up from his thoughts, “You know when?” Griffin questioned.

“Thursday at 8:00 PM” Lawrence said, giving a straight answer.

“2 days from now…” Griffin confirmed to himself, his eyes narrowing in thought. Griffin's thoughts began to merge together, his body beginning to stand up from the chair.

“I’ve decided…” Griffin spoke as he gathered his jacket and the document that was placed on the desk, “From now on, you’re going to be an accomplice.

Meaning you will help in this case.” Griffin turned his figure to look at Lawrence.

Lawrence tilted his head slightly, “like a detective? But why have a gang member of a city become your side detective?” He spoke questionably.

Griffin gave a small grin, “Something tells me that you’re not an ordinary person…” Griffin turned away from Lawrence and clicked the door open, “We will do an undercover operation, like you said, at the Rose Withers Restaurant where William Kingson will be at. We will be infiltrating there. But, as it might be complicated for you, It may be up to your standards..” Griffin spoke once more, his figure already outside the doorway.

Lawrence’s expression turned into a state of confusion, his mind fuzzing. “How the hell did he conjure up a plan that fast?…” He whispered to himself. Lawrence shook himself out of his thought process and stood up from his chair, walking to the doorway. As they both had stepped out of the room, many figures passed by. Police officers, dispatchers and the like, walked to and fro, their minds set in their busy work. As they walked to the front French doors of the police agency,

Griffin spoke out from the bustling agency into the lobby room, “I will contact you when the operation is ready,” Griffin said, standing at the French door of the room. Lawrence looked from the door, to Griffin's cloudy-blue eyes, staring into his soul. He then gave a nod, and stepped out of the crowded police agency, Griffin watching his every move outside the door. Lawrence then began to walk the concrete sidewalk, many people hadn’t stepped out onto the road, not many personifications in sight. The cloudy skies blocked the rays of sunlight from shining through, leaving a gray world for the earth to see. Suddenly, his phone buzzed in his pocket. Lawrence’s hand immediately went into his pocket, pulling it out to see who it could’ve been that called him on a day like this. The caller ID read out “The Trouble”.

“Well…what does Tristan want this time?” Lawrence spoke under his breath, wondering what Tristan's plans are for calling him.

Lawrence’s thumb pressed over the green button, only to be greeted by a screeching person on the other side, “LAWYER, Jesus I was trying to call you like 5 times already!” Tristan's voice raised from the phone in Lawrence’s hand, almost pierced by his screaming. Lawrence groaned, “Jeez…Can you scream any louder? I had my phone on vibrate…” Lawrence sighed in startelement at Tristan's sudden outburst.

“Yeah Yeah, But that’s not the point!” Tristan's voice seemed in a hurry, as if he was trying to disarm a large bomb.

Lawrence soon caught up to Tristan's pressing tone, “wait, what’s wrong?” He said concerningly.

“You know the electrical blue arm in the cylinder case?…It’s gone.” Tristan said with a tinge of fear in his voice.

Lawrence’s heart dropped at his words, “W-What? How the hell did it go missing?! No one is supposed to go in there besides my father!” Lawrence’s voice raised in panic and anger. Lawrence bit his bottom lip, panic settling in bit by bit.

“I…I have no idea!” Tristan's panic was settling into his voice, “When I went to check the back room, it was blown open…someone broke in…” Tristan spoke with a low tone, his mind already racing.

Lawrence cursed at himself, “hold on I’ll be right there! Tell the whole thing when I’m there!” Lawrence spoke as he ended the call. Without a second thought, Lawrence darted, his feet taking him to the place he didn’t want to visit back to.