OUT OF THE INVESTIGATION
“His original clothes… the real janitor was wearing them.” He remarked, gaining attentions from the policemen, especially the new sergeant, seemingly begging an explanation from him.
“To avoid being caught, he forcefully exchanged clothes with the janitor in hopes to fool me and disguise himself. Unfortunately, it was late for him to do so as I recognized him right away.” He explained, which furrowed the brows of the new sergeant.
From kneeling down to have a closer examination of the body, the new sergeant stood up. “Your first statement was a speculation, Mr. Gomez. You spoke like you have seen what actually happened inside the comfort room, although you haven’t. You’re aware that what you’re making is circumstantial, aren’t you?”
Troye flinched at his response. He thought that he would ask further about his insights, but that doesn’t seem to be the case as he appears futility to him. He was about to reply and defend his insights, when he noticed someone on his peripheral vision that ceased him from doing so.
He turned his head to that side and there he saw the familiar man wearing the clothes of Warren. The real janitor and the owner of that bloody uniform. The man was heading towards them until he saw his uniform soaked in red liquid.
“Oh, crap!” the real janitor exclaimed in dismay at the sight. “I don’t even have another spare uniform!” he was prettily at his middle age, making his wrinkles visible on his expression.
“I’ll buy you a set one.” The new presence and voice interrupted. Hailey had her eyes glued to the body with unidentified expression on her face.
The janitor widened his eyes in surprise when he saw her presence and even heard what she said. He was starstruck that he could barely move.
“Excuse me, ma’am, but you’re not allowed here. And you,” Sergeant Steven blocked her sight and turned his head to Troye. “You’ve done your thing here and no longer part of the police force. Thus, your presence is not in need anymore.” He remarked, making the inspector heaved a sigh.
Troye stared at him for a moment and instinctively recalled what Luke said over the phone. He really is strict. They locked each other’s gazes for a moment, until Troye initiated to break and left the restricted area where there’s a barricade tape.
“Did he realize that I’m partly owner of this company—no, does he even know me?” Hailey ranted.
“It’s one of the etiquettes when dealing with a corpse in public.” Troye responded. “Regardless of who you are. A single contamination from civilians could lead to failure of the investigation.”
Hailey didn’t reply. She knew well who she’s with after all.
Due to the circumstances—unlike previously where Troye just let her by herself to go to her office, this time, he’s accompanying her. Cautious of something might untoward happen again. As they reached the entrance door of her office, Troye took a step back, indicating that his accompany ends here.
Although, it includes staying with her even inside the office—wherever she goes, exactly, Troye couldn’t fulfill that for now as he’s up to something important.
After a few exchanges, Troye then immediately headed to the seventh floor and went to the comfort room where the decease went last. The police didn’t know this, but Troye is trying to find some pieces that can lead him to another set of suspicions. It’s a work of instincts and deduction.
The fact that they didn’t find anything on the janitor’s uniform nor Warren’s clothes, means that his things might be hidden somewhere.
Besides, Warren cannot come here unprepared, can he?
Unfortunately, though, there were other people using the comfort room. He didn’t want to appear as suspicious nor weird in their eyes, thus, he also went along with the others by pretending to take a pee. He paced towards the sink right after and washed his hands.
“I heard there was an accident.” A man who seemingly with his friend asked.
“Yeah, but I doubt it was, he kinda seemed pushed off.” The other replied, ringing Troye’s ears.
“Nah, he simply committed suicide.” Another man joined in who seemed to be their colleague.
“Well, it’s the police job to draw conclusion.” The first man replied and dried his hands.
After a few chats of theirs, they then went out of the comfort room, leaving Troye all alone. He really did not take his hands off of the flowing water until all of them has left.
Just the moment the last man went off, Troye immediately closed and locked the door gently to prevent drawing other attentions. He didn’t know where specifically did Warren hide his things, but it is certainly here.
He checked each cubicle and every corner of the comfort room but he couldn’t seem to find what he was looking for.
“Perhaps, he didn’t bring anything—no, it cannot be.” Troye shook his head of that absurd idea. But where can he find it?
He roamed his eyes around until it landed to the trash bin. A flashy grin formed on his face.
Before getting in contact with it, he brought out his gloves from the pocket first. Due to his old habit of always bringing gloves during his police force era, he also brought that habit even now. And it came to a point that it is actually worth the space of his pocket.
He rummaged the trashes on the bin and looked for something suspicious and unlikely thing. Something that would relate to the deceased.
With his natural skill of detecting something doubtful things, not long after, he finally found what he has been looking for. Although he had to go through a sickling smell, one of which is the smell of the man after pleasure.
Pretty gross but those comes with a price.
Well, quite a victory. Consequently, aggressive knocks on the door woken his spirit up from being so dwelled up by the case. He abruptly pulled off that thing from the collection of trashed and quickly cleaned it.
“What the fuck are you doing, man?!” a madman showed up upon him as he opened the door. “I was crazy restraining my pee.” He annoyingly remarked before heading toward one cubicle.
Troye didn’t say a thing, but only left the comfort room with no trace after washing his hands.
He was about to head toward the ground floor, when he received a call from his boss. He almost forgot about her.
“Yes, ma’am?”
“Bring two lattes to my office—”
A familiar voice cut her words short. “I prefer caramel macchiato—” but his boss just ended the call without acknowledging that guy’s preference.
But… “that voice…” Troye murmured upon the realization of his recognition to that voice. He furrowed for a moment before brushing it off of his mind.
He might receive another complains from a dragon.