The Havenport Files: Book One

Day 4

The apartment complex—how strange it is to set feet on it again. Today's wintry air passes me by differently from before, carrying the true winter feeling with it: depressing and tiring.

Even if this isn't the one where the body of Melinda Kolesov was found, a sense of melancholy embraces me unhurriedly due to the combination of the mental image engraved in me and the freezing temperature all of a sudden.

One look across the street is enough to see the alleyway leading to the south apartment complex, where I had to fight my way through people to move forward, where her body was left to rot—laid across the cement parking lot like a broken doll.

Alexandrina, who's been walking beside me from the now far-away Old Lantern to here, focuses her eyes on the staircase on the side of the building, the one we will inevitably take to go up. I notice her closing and opening her fists in an attempt to keep the warm blood flowing to her extremities.

"We should get this over with; preferably before we end up freezing out here." She says, turning to find me looking at her.

"Yes, just try keeping your calm once we get to her. We first need to be sure she was the one who hacked you; then, and only then, we can do anything about it. I don't want things to escalate, so let me do the questioning."

"Sure. Like I said before, I only want my access back to make sure this won't happen again; not here looking for a fight anyway. If I was, I wouldn't have called you."

"And that was the right decision, I assure you. Because you called, I'll help you get your podcast up and running again before night falls." I mutter the promise out of me in hopes that these words are going to turn true for both of her and me.

If there is one thing I dislike most about this city's management is the lack of protocol being applied to some places.

For example, the moment Alex and I step into the building, there isn't a single person to direct us to the stairs or ask if we came to visit someone; that creates a safety problem as anyone could take the stairs up and do something evil. Well, not that this happens much; still, it is better to care for something that won't happen than to not care and watch as it happens under your nose.

At least the lack of a working elevator makes most that would want to do something like that give up on the first flight. Hell, the sight of it almost makes me give up.

Exhaustedly, we finish climbing up to the fourth floor; even though I am in good shape, the lack of food in my stomach makes me weak relatively fast.

To take a breather, I stare at a long corridor where to our left are the apartments with the number plaque on the door, and to our right, an open view of the city.

It sure is an amazing view to wake up and bathe in taking into consideration that none of the other buildings around even manage to reach this height, leaving whoever wishes to throw their gazes away to see how the city's heart beats and how its lungs breathe to see it without a problem.

Reaching the end of the corridor, I can't help but draw my eyes to the door in question—the infamous apartment four hundred and six. Alex and I exchange a brief look before I raise my hand to knock on the door.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

"Havenport's Police Department; is anyone home?" Silence is the only answer we have from the other side, something that forces me to knock again on the door. "It's the police; open up. I'm here to talk."

This time, knocking on the door gets us something—not from inside the apartment, but from the one beside it.

A figure opens the door to apartment four hundred and five and steps outside timidly, first sticking her head outside and only then stepping out.

An old woman, dressed in a floral dress topped with a kitchen apron, quizzically looks in my direction; her white hair is kept in a tight bun; even so, some strands escape and sway beside her face.

"I'm sorry, dear; my ears are not what they used to be, but, have I heard it right? Are you from the police?" She talks in a shaky and weak voice, leaving me to notice how she seems to put some good effort into speaking alone, masked by a neighborly smile.

"Yes, ma'am; I'm Detective Rivers, and the one beside me is a friend." I step away from the door and take a step towards the old woman with an apologetic smile to start. "I'm sorry if we ended up disturbing you; we are trying to reach the woman who lives in this apartment. Would you know her by any chance?"

"If I know her? Oh, not much. I've seen her around a few times but never exchanged words; the girl doesn't leave her apartment for long. Concerning, to say the least. Someone at her age needs some sun from time to time." The old grandma points to the stairs we just came from with shaky fingers. "I think I heard her go out about twenty minutes ago, right when I started to cock some stew for my nephew. She shouldn't take long to come back; she never does."

To someone who doesn't know our woman that much, she seems to keep a very keen eye out for most things she does. I'm starting to get a picture now: she's the type to spy on her neighbors. Good for us, I guess.

"That helps a lot. Thank you for talking to us, ma'am." My reply comes with a business-standard smile.

"Oh, don't worry, dear. I have to get back to my stew soon; good luck to you and your quiet friend."

With those last words, the old woman gets back inside the apartment, locking the door right behind her.

Then, I look at Alexandrina, seeing her restlessly backing off to the wall nearby and resting her weight against it until she slides down, her butt meeting the ground.

Seeing that I can't help but do the same, only on the wall opposite to hers.

The moment I sit down, I feel the cold of the ground seeping through my jeans and parasite off my warmth.

Concentrating my eyes on my hands as I rub them together, I don't notice Alexandrina's eyes on my face, looking attentively.

"You know, detective; for someone in your line of work, your poker face isn't that good. I can tell since we left my house that there's a question stuck to your throat. So ask whatever it is you want; at least that is bound to help pass some time."

Her words aren't entirely wrong; she is right in saying I want to ask her something. I do, especially after going to her house; more questions got into my head than answers, which makes me want to get to the truth.

"If that's so, I won't hold myself; I have two things I wanted to clear up with you."

Sliding one knee down until my leg is fully extended and one up so I have a surface, I bend my face down and rest my chin atop it. "Let's start with the simpler one. It sure isn't hard to notice your mother isn't around town; her car is parked in front of your house, and she sure isn't there. You don't need to answer if it is too complicated, but, where has she gone?"

"Don't know, she didn't tell me where; the only thing she left before disappearing at this week's beginning was a letter telling me she had 'things to take care of' and that she would not be back for a while. She also told me not to call her phone and that if I needed anything, I would need to send a message and wait."

In a way, I can feel the heaviness attached to her words. It can't be easy for her, to have her mother gone without notice; I know she lived her whole life with her, so being alone must hurt.

"Before you say something; yes, it is strange of her to do something like this. My theory is that she is either having a mid-life crisis or has found someone to hook up with." Her last words make me think about what she just said, leaving me to connect a dot with another.

"Now that you said that, do you think this someone may be Reele? The detective before me. The dates are too close to be a coincidence, and I don't think that is a far stretch considering what the fights I witnessed from both."

"Can't say; she never talks about her personal life to me. No, to be clear, she doesn't talk about her personal life to anyone, period." Alex locks her fingers together and gazes at the ground. "There is a possibility that she did run with Reele to a motel somewhere to spend a week together; I just don't have anything to back it up to confidently say."

"Okay, thanks for answering that. I think now's the time I ask the complicated one."

There's a moment I pause before continuing, re-evaluating if I should ask or not, even if I do end up asking anyway against my better judgment. "Back at your house, there was something that made me think. Actually, it was more that one of the things you said bothered me. The three frames—it isn't that hard to assume what the big failure you talked about was. I want to know and would appreciate it if you were to be honest: is that why you've been helping me so much?"

"..."

No words leave her mouth, so I continue. "Are you trying to compensate for what happened to me after that?"

"...You like to assume too much."

She points out and shakes her head tiredly before locking her gaze on mine. "Well, no point in hiding it anymore. Let me correct you on something; I'm not helping you just because of that; I genuinely think you can do a whole lot of good for this city. My grandma fought for that, to free this city from the greedy people who run it, like our mayor."

There's a small, almost unnoticeable smile on her face as she talks about her grandma, one that stays on her lips until they lose the feeling they had before, becoming bittersweet. "You know, I was twenty-two when I wrote about the Parker's case—just a dumb girl trying desperately to rush her way to success. Impressing my mother was all I wanted, and in my rush, I did the opposite. She was angry at me to the point we fought badly; that was the first time I saw my grandma and mother agree on something."

"Alex, you don't need to—"

"No, let me finish. It took me a whole week to accept that what I had done was wrong; my pride was just too strong, you know? A week that I can only imagine was hell for you. That was when I did an investigation of my own and found out who had lied to me; I needed to know so I could confront them. The rest you know."

"Why didn't you come to talk to me? You could have told me what had happened. You didn't need to hold that for so long."

"Ha... You really think that, don't you? I suppose I can't blame you for forgetting, but I tried. You were so angry that you avoided me, and then again and again until I stopped trying. Not saying you were in the wrong, by the way; I can't say I wouldn't do the same if our roles were inverted. So yeah, your assumption is right, in a way; I'm helping you for my own peace of mind."

"..."

This time, we both stay silent; that creates an uncomfortable atmosphere around us, taking the whole corridor.

There isn't much I could do in this situation, yet I know one thing I could.

I get up to my feet, forcing my hands against the cold ground until I'm standing upright. Alex's eyes avoid mine until I'm at her side; then, I sit down beside her quietly.

"What do you think we forget about it, huh? You and I start from scratch, here and now. We can leave all this shit behind us. I know for a fact it wouldn't be of any good for us to leave this unsettled for any longer."

It is strangely easy how I throw the anger I once had in me away. Maybe it is because I know the truth now, or perhaps it was never meant to be that way.

I see now that she was never an asshole, but instead, the asshole was me. She's right when she says I assume too much; that is something I need to stop if I want to be happy for once.

At the end of my words, I extend my hand to her in a friendly gesture.

"You seriously think that—" The look she gives me is of deep incredulity, and she spends a good minute looking at me with that plastered on her face.

Then, a scoff leaves her lips as she seems I'm nothing but serious, and again she shakes her head in disbelief. "Oh, you do. I see. You know what? This day has been all but strange through and through, so if this is the way you want to solve this, then I can't say anything against it."

The loneliness of my extended hand lasts not for a lengthy period as she inevitably raises her hand towards mine and shakes it in this peace treaty of ours.

A small smile comes over my lips as an invisible, consuming weight at last drops from my shoulder, and even if Alex doesn't show anything, I believe she is relieved of her own weight as well.

"You know, if you ever feel alone or don't want to spend a Saturday night tucked inside your house, I wouldn't mind if you joined Astero, Mel, and I; we could all drink together, play Monopoly at my house, or both. A fair warning though, Mel always cheats."

"Maybe I will; maybe I won't. For now, let's focus on the problems at hand." She responds with a neutral expression, quickly putting her head back on the game. "Thank you for offering anyway; that is nice of you, even if a little unsettling."

A soft laugh bubbles from my chest and is quickly swallowed upon noticing something on the edge of my vision—movement near the stairs puts me on high alert.

A woman, seemingly our age, if not a bit younger, turns in our direction while carrying in her arms a bunch of plastic bags filled to the brim with stuff. Said stuff peaks from the top, almost overboard enough to fall on the ground, leaving me to read the label 'noodles' on one of them.

She sways around in hopes of keeping everything from pouring over the ground, forcing her to pick it all up again; that is all the clue I need to get up and go help her.

Even if she ends up not being the one we are after, it is still good to help someone, especially since I've been in similar situations before and know how badly it can be to end up losing money because you dropped a glass jar of pickles you were planning to decorate burgers with.

Getting up and walking closer to the woman, Alex does the same, only choosing to lean against the wall and stand ready if our suspicion comes true.

"Hi, do you want some help with that—"

I'm not allowed to finish my words before the woman nods her head and pushes onto my chest two full plastic bags, weighing a little more than I expected, making me question if I'm weaker now or if there are really so many things packed in the bag.

"Phew! Yeah, thanks; that helps a lot. You're a lifesaver for real." Promptly, the woman walks to my side and taps my shoulder thankfully. "I feared breaking once I started to feel it on my lower back."

It takes a good moment, but a few grunts are enough to make her notice the difficulty I'm having as well, rushing her to point me in a direction. "Oh, sorry. Follow me. I'll just get these ones inside, so hold on a moment; I'll be back in a blink."

I watch as the figure walks towards the apartment door beside Alex and stumbles to unlock it, confirming our suspicions, and then she disappears behind the door, which leaves me to wait for her to be back to take the bags with me.

Opportunistically, the journalist reaches my side and stares at the door, using one of her hands to push one of the bags that almost escapes my arms to stability. "Tell me, what is your plan to deal with her?"

"We'll just wait for her to get back; then, I'll flash my badge and ask to talk to her inside; that will allow us to talk privately."

Moving my head with an effortful grunt, I make sure none of the neighbors are spying before completing my sentence. "I don't want people speculating anything wrong in case she isn't the one we are looking for here."

At the end of my words, the woman returns breathlessly from inside the apartment. "Uff! Sorry for the wait; let me help you now." To my relief, I'm freed from the chains that are the plastic grocery bags, and I'm allowed a view of the person we are about to question.

I see that if there is a better moment to ambush the woman, it would be here and now, so, without waiting, I produce the unclipped badge from the waistband of my jeans and lift it to guide her gaze to it.

"Miss, I'm Detective Rivers, and the one beside me is a friend of mine; would you mind if I ask you some questions?"

Standard procedure tells me to ask her this, but any doubt I had of this woman being the one we are looking for is washed away when her reaction to my badge, instead of being the usual surprise, is just non-existent, nonchalant, almost as if this was something she...expected to happen?

Without the plastic bags hiding her features, I'm able to study the way she casually adjusts her blue overalls with one hand, which I am quick to notice is secured only by a singular strap as the other hangs limply over her shoulder, further reinforcing this feeling that this isn't a surprise for her.

"Strange. Oh well, I see he was right about you coming by today after all. That makes the whole thing another level of creepy, but it is fine." Hearing her words, I can't help but tilt my head slightly. She signals with her head towards her apartment's open door, causing strands of black and white hair to fall over her big round glasses.

To my unfortunate, that impedes me from asking anything. "If we are going to talk, then come inside you two; there are too many listeners in the apartments around. Old people never seem to have better things to do."

The woman enters the apartment, leaving us no other option but to follow behind her.

In doing so, I keep my instinct to look at every piece of furniture at bay, choosing to prioritize dealing with the problem first.

We reach an open living room where the woman strides towards a puff chair, leaving the plastic bags to rest atop a glass table as she falls onto the soft puff surface.

When she is settled up, I nod my head to Alex and decide to pull a chair for me so I can properly start questioning her. "Miss, could you start up by introducing yourself, please?"

"Sure. My name is Nam, and I work as the IT specialist at the Mountain View Academy." Nam clasps her hands together and looks at them. "Basically, it means I fix their computer and rid them of viruses when a student searches for porn on one of their machines."

"Okay; next question. I need to confirm this before we go any further, but you're the one we are looking for, aren't you?" Taking into consideration the way she reacted to us in the corridor is enough to confirm, yet it is always good to hear from the suspect. "Remember that lying to me will only worsen your situation."

"That's right, but I would like to say that I didn't do it for fun or because I have something against you or your podcast," Nam says, directing her words to the journalist beside me, standing up with her arms crossed, silently starting. "I just wanted to keep my neck in place, that's all."

"You were threatened; is that what you're saying?" Skeptically, I look at her face more attentively, trying to find anything that tells me she is lying or not. "And this threat came from the same person who warned you we would eventually come around, yes?" I take my phone from my pocket and find the photo of my suspect, showing it to her. "This man, I mean."

"Yeah, that's the dude. He came around this morning when I was working on some computers, and pretty early; I don't even know how he managed to, considering I keep a low profile, but he did nonetheless. He had this creepy way of talking, mumbling about how he had been watching and could use the abilities of someone like me. He didn't only threaten me, but offered payment, saying that he would pay me big money to do something for him."

I notice how she gesticulates a lot, strangely so; that detail makes me focus more on her voice, catching a few desperate notes here and there. Maybe she is telling the truth.

She continues. "By the way, he didn't care much for the actual hack. That's why he asked me to wait around for you after doing the deed."

Her words are directed at me, which causes me to raise an eyebrow in curiosity. "Me? You're saying that he wanted me to come here?" That doesn't sound good.

"Uhum." She nods her head in affirmation. "He said that a detective would knock on my door, and when she did so—" Leaning to her side, she grabs something from under the puff chair, bringing it into view. "I was supposed to deliver this."

Extending her hand to me, she gives me a closed letter, smelling strongly of blood and rotten even if there aren't any visible blood stains; holding it on my hand, knowing from whom it came, my body freezes.

My mouth dries, my heart accelerates, and I feel like puking; this is it, a direct letter from our killer.

While I occupy myself with opening the letter, Alex clicks on the voice recorder hanging from her neck, not to record the conversation but actually to stop it.

I had noticed when we entered her hand lingering on it but had decided not to comment about it.

Once with the open letter at hand, I reluctantly gaze at it, feeling wrong, almost as if I'm not supposed to.

'My Dear Muse. I hope you liked the little game I laid out for you. Regrettably, I had to come up with something in a hurry, so sure, it wasn't as big as I wanted it to be; you can thank your friends for that. I grow tired of being apart from you any longer, so I propose you a deal you can't refuse: come quietly back to your house when night falls, or else I'll make sure your sister takes your place in our little promised dance. I'll be waiting and watching.'

When my eyes reach the last words from the letter, I notice Alex and Nam talking with each other; their voices are drowned out by the loud beating of my heart against my eardrums.

I become deaf to all sounds, my palms sweat profusely, and my head hurts from thinking. The image of Mel being captured by this monster makes my heart sink.

With a lot of effort, I unglue my eyes from the letter and get up to my feet, keeping my eyes on the ground. "Alex, could you wrap things up here by yourself? I need to go back to the station and get this evidence to Astero before he goes home."

She nods her head; lucky for me, she doesn't bother to look at my face, which now stands drained of color. "Go ahead. We can talk later about what you need from me." With her arms still crossed, she frowns at Nam. "I think you can help me improve my computer's security, don't you think?"

Nam can only nod her head in the only answer she can muster as Alex makes sure to leave her voice recorder in view, showing that, right now, the woman is trapped on her web and has nowhere to escape.

Using all of my remaining strength, which isn't much, I force my feet to weakly stumble my body out of the apartment.

Outside, the sun begins to set on the horizon, hurting my eyes when they lock on it, a cruel reminder that the time given to me is too little. I need to run as fast as I can, get my car in Alex's house, and drive home before the moon settles on the sky.

There's a moment where, before I start running down the stairs, I'm forced to think about if what I'm doing is right—walking into the beast's jaw so willingly.

It doesn't matter...right? I need to catch this monster and save Mel; the risk doesn't matter.

My fingers grasp the phone hidden in my jeans, as I remember one thing I could do to help me out, or so I hope strongly. Whether I should or not doesn't come into question; there isn't time enough to question that.

So, taking a photo of the letter in my hand, I send it to Agent Yui. After all this agency did to me, messing up my week and my life, the least they could do is help me now, and I won't let them have a choice, like they didn't give me one.

After the image, I send a, 'I know the truth' just to show I'm serious before complementing it with my address, ordering them to meet me there in half an hour, more or less the time I have left.

Then, I shove it in my pocket to be forgotten and start my marathon back home, pulling energy from god knows where just so I can start.