A Fool Out Of Me

"We have the situation under control," they kept telling her. She just wanted to see her with her own eyes. Christina was more than her friend, they were sisters, sisters in all else but blood. Blood that she saw streaming lazily down the curve of the tub when  she finally elbowed her way in. Her stomach heaved and she regretted her decision all at once.

Lisa ran back out into the darkness, lit up with police lights like a broken neon sign. She threw up, wiped her mouth and saw Christina's head leaning against the tap and out came the prawns she had eaten for lunch spewing in all directions on the lawn.

"You okay miss?" Not the brightest cop in the precinct, Lisa thought, as a young policeman placed his hand on her shoulder.

"I'm great officer, I just like throwing up on lawns in my spare time that's all," she retorted. The blond officer turned as red as a beet and made to adjust his belt.

"I understand you are hurting. I'm sorry for your loss," he said and walked away.

Lisa spat into the hedges and wiped her mouth with her leather sleeve. Words weren't gonna bring Christina back. No, and neither would indulging the cold, hard knot she felt turning in the pit of her stomach, raw and frightening. Carol she remembered and patted her jeans for her phone. She punched in the numbers with an unintended ferocity and watched as her hand trembled toward her ear. It rang three times before a soft almost childlike voice answered the other end.

"Hey, Carol. It's ummm, it's Lisa."

"Oh hie Lisa, anything the matter?" Said the older woman, her voice like the old civil war recordings Lisa used to listen to with her father.

"Are you home? Can I come over right now?" Lisa mumbled.

"Yes I am dear, is anything the matter?" a streak of worry laced in those last words.

"Be there in ten," Lisa shoved the phone back into her pocket and stomped into her  black 1964 Plymouth Belvedere. The 'gal' had some mileage on her but she could be really fast if it was required. Carol was in a state when she opened the door, her blond curls dishevelled and her face red and puffy. The police had clearly beaten Lisa to the news of her daughter's death.

"Who did this to her Lisa, who killed my baby?" Carol wept and for a second Lisa was at a loss for words and thoughts.

At last she walked into the house, closed the door and let Carol weep into her shoulder. Carol was responsible for most of Christina's beauty, she had been a model in her day, tall and graceful with a natural beauty that needed no highlights.

"I don't know Carol, I don't know," Lisa said helplessly.

After a while the woman was able to control herself enough to take a seat and offer one, although she still coughed up sobs from time to time.

Lisa told her of how her shift had ended at the precinct and she had been on her way home when she got the phone call from one of her police buddies. She had been dead for approximately thirty minutes before she was found. No one seems to have heard anything and her friends had seen her a mere hour before.
Christina had been murdered in her bath tub, she had multiple stab wounds, Lisa judged from the amount of blood at the scene. However, she imagined the one to her chest had caused her death. That or she bled out, the idea of which was far worse. Carol was spared those final thoughts, the details were not necessary to her.

"Oh my poor baby!" wailed Carol, here eyes filled with fresh tears.

"I'll find him Carol, I promise you. I will find whoever did this, no matter what it takes."


********

"Power is like a smoking mirror. In your mind it is real and that belief in it leads you to want it, to crave it, to fixate over it. That obsession which leads you to seek to attain it at any cost. It is then that power becomes dangerous and malevolent." Professor Scheme's voice rang throughout the lecture room.

A lot of students took notes on their gadgets and once in a while a hand would shoot up with a rather pointless question. As pointless as this class, thought Luke. This was sort the of class that he could pass within one week of reading through the text book but he had decided to take classes all the same. Now he was beginning to question if it was all worth it. His eyes then wandered into the front row, as they often did and he saw her. The girl was pure perfection if he had ever seen it. Her green eyes were squinted in concentration behind her glasses, dirty blonde hair tied into a messy bun and her skin shone in the gloom of the podium light.

Luke did not know her name, he still had not gathered up the courage to ask. In his head she was Nymeria, the beautiful warrior queen from his favourite fantasy books. Nymeria was intelligent too, I mean not as half as clever as he was but then again he was not normal. She must have felt his gaze for her head turned and he looked away just in a nick of time.

"Okay guys, next week we need to get through Napoleon. Please prepare," said the lecturer.
The students began filling out of the double door entrance.

"Miss King, can I talk to you for a minute?" said Professor Scheme and Luke watched Nymeria walk to the lecturer's desk. The room was nearly empty and Luke hurried out, lest he attract attention to himself. Outside, he waited close to the door and listened to the voices within.

"I can't anymore," said a female voice that could only be Nymeria's.

"You can't do this, it will ruin me," replied Professor Scheme.

"There is nothing I can do. I can't live with this anymore," were the final words. Luke heard footsteps striding towards the two door entrance. He hurried away and wondered what it was that he had stumbled upon.

*******

"Luke Broderie," said Detective Lance. "Son of billionaire genius inventor dude Luis Broderie. Some neighbours say they have seen a limo circling the block a few times and the plates fit his father's own personal chauffeur service. Turns out the boy took a class with Christina."

Lisa stared at the twenty year old boy in the interrogation room. He wore evidently expensive clothes, although poor taste. His brown hair was an unkempt mop that covered his forehead. Inspite of his shifty eyes and shaking leg, the boy was as calm as stagnant water. He had a sweet, disarming innocence to him
The detective, a small middle aged brunette, handed her the file and walked out of the booth. Lisa watched her walk into the interrogation room from behind the one way mirror.

The first few questions were always pretty standard.

"Did you know the lady on the picture? When was the last time you saw her?" etc.

Lisa was surprised that the boy had not asked for a lawyer, his father could absolutely afford one. She had been a police officer for nearly a year and had seen a few hot shots walk in and out. Those often left behind some law suits and a bad taste in her mouth.
The boy kept referring to Christina as Nymeria, inspite of having been told her name. The whole proceeding annoyed Lisa to death really. The boy was clearly harmless, she could scare the truth of him given the chance. For two weeks she had been itching for a suspect or any lead of some sort, this was their first real one.

After a series of questions and a rather solid alibi, the detective concluded the questioning. As she was making her way out, the boy said something that made her turn. Lisa leaned in for clarity.

"A few weeks ago. I was leaving class and I heard Nymeria… I mean Christina arguing with Professor Scheme. He said something about her ruining things for him. I don't know if it's any help but…."

"Where do we find this Professor Scheme?" asked the Detective.

"His last class ends at five. I don't know where he stays."

Lisa burst out of the booth and out of the police station. The Plymouth hissed down the free way. She was a collision of emotions, anger being the most dominant of them all. She wanted to wring some necks for certain. A bitter autumn wind ruffled against her coat as she slammed the car door. The building itself stood like a grey Victorian castle behind a green field. She had been here before, under very different circumstances.

Anger clung to the back of her throat like a spoonful of peanut butter, only bitter and hot. She swallowed it down, she would need to be calm for this. Her black leather boots tracked up the damp green terrain. The school was all but deserted except for a few over achievers huddled in tiny discussions, Christina would probably have been in one of them. Lisa wiped away a tear and realised how fresh the wound still was.

As she treaded into the entrance, she wished she had her uniform on but she was not 'officially' on duty. In a black leather jacket and boots she looked like just another college student, she was only twenty three after all. She was, however, a few inches taller than the man she was directed to as Professor Scheme. He was teaching a class of nearly sixty students. Lisa could not wait for the class to end, the police would be here by then, flaunting their detective badges around.

"Professor Scheme," he turned towards the door, puzzled. "I'm officer Lisa Deiter. I would like to ask you a few questions if you will."

The entire class had their eyes stamped on this skinny, tall brunette that looked nothing like a cop.

" But I'm in the middle of a class, can't it wait?" said the lean Professor in his casual pants and formal jacket.

"No I'm afraid not sir, could we talk somewhere private please."

"Ummm okay," then towards the class "just read up on the rest of the text and we will discuss it next time. Class dismissed."
All the students eagerly rose from their seats and filed past Lisa. One buff blonde boy even winked at her, she wished she had brought her gun. Truth be told she did not trust herself with it around suspects, not with this case.

"So what's this about?" He asked, his tone seemingly bored and uninterested. He has been expecting this, she realised.

"Christina King," the name as sharp as razors on her tongue.

"Miss King, a bright girl. A tragedy what happened to her."

"Not tragedy sir, murder," she strode towards him and stood a few inches from his face. The arrogant smirk disappeared as she stared down at him. "Now I'll cut straight to the chase, Mr Scheme. What were you and Christina arguing about after class four weeks ago?"

"It's Professor and I have a lot of arguments with students, I can not possibly remember them all."

"No, of course not," she agreed. She moved away from him and slowly made her way around his oaken desk, feeling it's outline.

"Tell me...Professor Scheme, how long have you been having an affair with Christina King." Lisa had figured that out the moment she had seen him. Dark hair with its silver traces on the sides, early forties, big brown eyes and an uncomfortably pretty face for a man, most importantly, well learned. This was definitely Christy's type.

"I ummm it ended a while back. It's…." He was too smart to try and deny it.

"Is that why you killed her? Because she didn't want you anymore,"

"No," he croaked. "She gave me an ultimatum, either I tell my wife or its over. I couldn't kill her, I loved her and she loved me. That's why a week before her death, I, I was gonna do it. I was going to file for divorce and I told her right here in this class. Before that lunatic Luke, came---"

"Luke Broderie?!"

"Yes him, he was yelling something about Nyleria, or something. Christina was pretty spooked. I told the boy to leave but he wouldn't, his eyes seemed like the were popping out of his skull and his voice was hoarse and pretty frankly, scary as hell. After a while he just calmed down I guess and left."

"Has he ever done anything like this before."

"Not that I know of. Listen he is a really intelligent kid, IQ probably higher than both of us combined. He is a genius, he could pass this class with his eyes closed. But most...people like him have demons. I've seen it before in other intellectuals but never like that."

Lisa had heard enough and wondered why she had not seen it before. The calm face, the shaking leg, the signs were right there. She said:

"Thank you sir, we will contact you if we need anything else."

******

Luckily Luke was still in the police station and without a suit to croak about his rights. When Lisa explained her findings to Detective Spencer she was met with a look of disapproval at having broken the rules. But she knew that the detective was just as happy with the newly acquired information. Apparently Luke's lawyer had arrived some minutes earlier and Luke had sent him off. Either the boy had nothing to hide (which was very unlikely) or he wanted to prove a point.

"Let me question him Detective," Lisa suggested. "I think I understand what's happening here."

Truth be told, she hadn't the slightest idea but she had to do it herself. The detective nodded and Lisa took off her jacket and strode into the interrogation room.

"Hello Luke, can I call you Luke?" she asked, taking the bolted in steel chair opposite his.

"Yes, you may," he replied with a smile, a sweet and innocent smile that made his face light up, this was a handsome boy.

"So you forgot to tell us something, about the week before Christy died."

"You knew her?"

"Why do you say that?"

"You called her Christy, the other detective called her Miss King. Were you close?"
She realised that he was trying to play her, there was definitely something lurking behind that sweet, innocent face.

"Tell me about the day you walked in on Miss King and Professor Scheme a week before she died?"

"I don't remember."
Lisa was getting agitated and impatient.

"I've known Christina ever since we were five years old. I was tall, she was pretty. I was tough, she was smart. We were the dynamic duo, I knew her like the back of my hand," the boy leaned in, seemingly interested. "She always liked a certain type of man, a manly man. Older, experienced that always excited her. Even as teenagers, she never dated….boys."
His face remained calm and serene, but she heard his leg shake slightly beneath the table.

"So you see Luke, there was no way in hell she could have fallen for you," boys like these regardless of their IQ, always fell for the same type of girl, pathetic. "She would not have given a second look, not even---"

"That's not true!" He yelled. "If that stupid Professor wasn't taking advantage of her, she would have seen me. Nymeria would have loved me, like I loved her," his voice thick with sadness.

"That's why you killed her isn't it? Because she wouldn't see."

"I didn't kill her, I didn't kill her, I didn't kill her," he repeated holding his head in his hands.

"Yes you did. Confess now Luke, for Nymeria. Do it!" she snapped.

"It wasn't me," he cried. Then there was silence, the sobbing seized and in a flash Luke lifted his head. He wore the most hideous expression, his hair covered part of his eyes, that seemed just about ready to pop out of his head and they seemed to be ablaze. His cheeks slick with tears and a smile so wide all his teeth were visible.

"It wasn't Luke," came a deep voice, like a low piano note. "It was me."

For a while Lisa did not know whether to run out of the room or to crawl into a corner and hide. She cringed for a moment and said:

"And who are you?"

'She said, "get away from me you freak." She was sitting there in her bath tub as beautiful as a dream and I wanted to love her that's all. My Nymeria, she shrieked when I tried to touch her and said she would call you guys," he laughed. "She wanted to make a fool out of me. She wasn't so pretty with so many holes in her."
He looked at Lisa with eyes burning with malevolence and said with a smile:

"Nobody makes a fool out of me."