Clean Criminal // l.s.

ii.

Louis sat in a cold, metal chair in a very dark, dusty room. He could honestly say that he hated interrogation rooms and all their filth. Just the thought of how many grimy hands have touched that table or how many pieces of chewed gum were under the chair drove him mad.

Detective Styles walked in through the door and signaled to the officer to exit the room. He walked around to the other side of the table and sat in front of Louis. He dropped a file onto the table which made Louis jump. Today was going to be the worst Thursday ever.

"Are you aware of your friend's death?" Detective Styles questioned in a stern voice. He was completely different when he wasn't running into strangers at the grocery store.

Louis shook his head, because, no, he didn't know that his best friend was killed. He also shook his head because he knew where this was going and he was in no way involved with the murder.

"Are you sure you took no part in his death?"

Boy did that tick Louis off, "of course not! I'm not a murderer. I'm not a killer. I didn't kill him," Louis said, trying to calm himself down with deep breathes. One wrong move and he could end up in prison.

The detective didn't seem taken aback or shocked, "Reports say that your neighbors heard the two of you arguing. Maybe things got out of hand, you pushed him, he pushed you back and then you ended up beating him to death," he hypothesized.

Louis shook his head again, speaking up this time, "that never happened."

"Alright, so then tell me what happened," the Detective asked as he pulled out his note pad to keep track of information, "why was there such a commotion?"

Louis let out a sigh and straightened his back, he kept his hands folded in his lap, tugging at his coat that he kept with him. His right leg bounced up and down as he spoke, "he made me mad. I felt anxious and asked him to leave and he didn't want to leave."

The detective noted Louis' behaviors and answer, "when did this happen?"

"Right around seven o'clock, because after he left I went to watch The Mentalist just like any Wednesday night. It was a good episode actually."

The other man nodded, "alright. Where were you at nine thirty?"

Louis went through his schedule in his mind. Eight meant Criminal Minds, nine meant Stalker, but he hadn't watched much of Stalker because he had to clean up from dinner. Then he went to bed at nine-thirty after he cleaned up dinner, washed his hands and put on a fresh clean pair of pajamas.

"I was in bed."

"Do you have any alibis?"

Was this guy crazy? Of course Louis wouldn't have any considering he lives on his own, in his own apartment where he pays his own rent and isn't dependent on any one else but himself.

"I sleep and live alone. My only friend is Zayn," Louis stated.

Detective Styles hummed to himself as he wrote more down, "what did you do between seven and nine-thirty?"

"Well, The Mentalist had come on so I watched that. Then before Criminal Minds started I popped some popcorn. Then it was nine and I realized I hadn't cleaned up from dinner so I spend a good fifteen minutes cleaning up the dishes and putting them on the drying rack once again. Then it was nine-fifteen which meant I had to get ready for bed. So I brushed my teeth, washed my face and hands, put on my clean pajamas and checked the locks seven times. I was in bed right at nine-thirty like any other night."

"Does Zayn have any enemies that you know of?"

Louis thought about this one. Zayn was a good guy with a heart of gold, there was no way anyone could hate him.

"Not that I know of. Everyone loves Zayn."

That was true. Louis never met a person that hated Zayn because there was nothing to hate. He was a nice person in general and looked out for Louis. Louis respected him more than anyone else in his life and that was truly an accomplishment.

"Is there anyone that could possibly hurt Zayn? Someone who wasn't on good terms with him?" Louis was asked. Louis' leg bounced a little more and his fingers held onto his coat a little tighter. There was only one person would would want to hurt Zayn and that was all because of Louis.

"Y-yeah, there's only one person I could think of, but me moved away a long time ago; switched states a while back," Louis answered. He didn't want to think about it, he couldn't think about it. It was all too much to handle.

"How does Zayn know this person?"

In that moment Louis thought that he could just lie and be done with this. But he kept thinking about the words of his best friend, "always tell the truth. It's easier than telling a lie."

"He's a friend of ours."

Which was half true. Zayn was friends with the guy and Louis was friends too. So he wasn't really lying.

"Does he have any particular relationship to you?"

Louis let go of his coat and started to smooth out the fabric, helping his mind ease, "yes. We were...we were lovers."

The detective nodded and opened the folder that was sitting beside him on the table, "we found these in your apartment," he stated, spreading out the many letters in front of Louis. He let Louis look at them for a second then pulled them back, "is this the person that could have hurt Zayn?"

"No!" Louis protested, "he would never hurt Zayn like that!"

"And what makes you so sure of that?" Detective Styles questioned, his voice raising just a bit.

"Because that means he would have broken his promise and he never breaks his promises," Louis claimed.

"We may have to pay this fellow a visit. And since he never signs his actual name or include his address, I think you better tell me who's been sending you these love letters."

Louis didn't want to, but he wanted justice for Zayn and if--by some sort of misfortune--his past lover was the one to murder his best friend, he'd like to know. So he told the very tall and quite handsome detective the name and his last known location. Then he was released to go wherever he wanted. The only issue was, he had no where to go.

"Hey," the detective said quietly to Louis in the waiting area, "are you alright?" Louis shook his head and tried his hardest not to cry. The detective sat next to him and frowned, "I'm truly sorry about your loss which is why I'll try my hardest to find out who hurt him. He was a nice guy, always giving back to the community and he deserves justice."

Louis nodded, taking one look at the stranger and smiled. He whispered a soft "thank you" and let himself slump into the dusty chair, "these chairs are filthy."

The detective laughed, "I'll clean them as soon as you go home and rest. You were anxious in there and I just want you to feel some relief for a while. Chances are we'll come banging on your door again when we find new information for the case. I could take you home since you don't seem to have anyone to pick you up." 

"Oh, no, it's fine. I can walk," Louis said, standing up to put on his jacket. 

"Are you sure? It's no trouble, really." 

Louis chuckled, buttoning his coat, "I'll be fine. If you find anything, please call me and I can drive myself down here. I don't think I need another police escort."

Detective Styles smiled, "alright, but I don't seem to have your number."

Louis returned the smile and ended up giving the detective his number in case anything comes up. He said that he wants to know the progress of the case and any new information should be shared with him. The taller man claimed that they couldn't give out anything while the case was in progress, but he would try to tell Louis as much as he could. With that, Louis left and he felt something within him that made him make an omelette for dinner even though it was supposed to be french toast on Thursdays.