Detective

13

"It's not the first time I've made a speedy conclusion," I said, wetting my lips when Vahlov stood up threateningly. "I've actually done that quite a lot lately. I'm ashamed of myself, but then you come along and decide to give my brain a boost. I really do thank you."

"I am not terminally ill," Vahlov sneered in English, probably in hopes that his Russian comrades wouldn't understand.

"But you are. All the signs are there," I said, tilting my head to the side. "Wouldn't you say it's odd for a big-time mafia lord like yourself to not be in charge of doing all the brutal beating? You carry a seriously grudge for me and you obviously like getting your hands dirty if we go by your line of work."

"You little--"

"And don't you think it's odd that a seemingly intelligent man like yourself who can come up with clever metaphors is still stupid enough to refuse medical aid when his leg is clearly in need of it?" I wondered rhetorically. "Unless of course there's something you wouldn't want a doctor to discover by a simple examination. Something like... cancer?"

Vahlov's eyes glinted with wrath. He didn't speak, just stared at me with the promise of a long sufferable death.

Well, if I was going to die, I might as well get my last words out. "Death is an expected but unfortunate part of life, yet when it comes before the senior age, it's considered a sign of weakness. You no doubt hid it from all within your little 'corporation' here, because nothing like illness makes people look at you with pity." I spoke from experience. "If your men knew you were dying or your enemies for that matter, your metaphorical throne would be theirs to easily take. My guess is that you wanted to ensure your noble linage to continue to sit on the throne before you died, so you made sure you had an heir. Sure, a girl might not have been the best option, but given the circumstances she would have to do. Am I getting close?"

Vahlov still didn't speak. I took it as a sign to continue.

"Then of course, all you had to do was capture the one person who could stand in the way of your plan succeeding. The one person who would eventually figure it out and bring you down," I said, meeting his eyes with a little smirk. "Me."

Vahlov's eyes glinted again but this time not from anger, but from excitement. He took two steps closer to me and then shoved his hands into his pants. "Very good, Detective. You should feel proud of yourself."

"I do, continue."

"But aren't you forgetting one thing?" He said and cocked a brow, growing a sly smirk on his lips. "Why do you think that it is that your precious police force haven't stormed this place yet? We know they are out there, waiting."

My mind crunched the various answers, but alas, I came up lacking. I hated that. For once, he had an answer that I didn't. "Alright, I'll bite, Vahlov. Tell me; Humiliate me if you must, my ego can handle it."

"I wouldn't be so sure," He chuckled. "How did you put it..? Ah yes; Don't you think it's odd," he said, mimicking me, "That I haven't put you and your little woman in the same room yet? That I haven't showed you what I've done to her? It must have crossed your mind by now. 'What has he done to her, is she still alive, where is she?'" Vahlov mused. "To answer your question; She's at home. We never took her from you. I told my men to speak offensively about your woman and I guess their imagination ran away with them. But truth be said, detective Crane, she is home in her happy little apartment, doing happy little things, while being happily unaware of your heroic gesture for her," He smirked. "You gave yourself up for nothing."

I closed my eyes and cursed silently in my head when Vahlov began chuckling maliciously. I should have known. No, I should've checked first. Should've called her, heard her voice. I didn't. I blindly took their crass words as truthful and went charging into the battlefield for her.