"That was the last time I saw her." Silence settled in after the woman spoke, her voice choking beneath soft sobs. Six people surrounded a weathered wooden table within a small interrogation room. A large two-sided mirror spread across the wall behind four of them, the door on the opposing wall and closest to the two policemen who sat quietly across from the young adults.
Ballard laced his fingers, his fists resting upon the wooden surface. His brows were scrunched and his mouth itched for a cigarette as he ran their testimonies through his head.
"And you say that you found her purse just around the corner from the pub door?" Ballard questioned again, slightly peeved they had picked up evidence. But they had only thought to take it and return it to their missing friend, hardly imagining its loss was part of a much bigger picture.
The young woman who had spoken last nodded in response, unable to force out words. The group of University students had been traveling for the past week, sight-seeing Europe and settling in London for their last two days. In fact, they were supposed to be on a flight back to the States today, but that would have to wait. There were still stories to collect and alibis to check.
Ballard felt James shift in his seat beside him, crossing his legs and leaning back in his chair to give the students a sense of ease. Ballard found it odd that James was taking part in the interrogation. In his position, he was required to lead the case but not take on a detective's job, especially a Senior Detective like himself. It was annoying. It felt like someone passenger seat driving, and telling you to do what you were already in route of doing.
James spoke, "You'll have to postpone your return to America until we get all of your statements and alibis. It's just protocol, please don't take it personal."
Ballard took this moment to observe them, watching for any change of expression or body movement. They had been introduced at the start and he revisited the information. The first one was Ashley, a petite girl with tanned skin and bleached blonde hair. She was also apparently best friends with Violet Hayes, the missing girl in question. Her upset demeanor and endless tears felt sincere enough, moving Ballard's attention to the next person. It was a young man with dark chocolate hair, eyes that matched and skin that was a warm, light brown pigment. The two appeared to be a couple, one arm embraced Ashley's shoulders and the other, Ballard imagined, was holding her hand beneath the table.
There was one more woman and man sitting next to them, Jessica and Mason had been the names they introduced themselves with. Jessica was a girl of average looks, fair skin tone, medium brown hair pulled up in a high bun, and hazel eyes that never left the table. She seemed frightened and unsure of where to look or what to say, this caused Ballard to watch her carefully before shifting his gaze to the last one. Mason sat farthest away from him at the opposing table corner. Your typical handsome rich boy had been the stereotype Ballard applied after their introductions. Mason was currently making eye contact with James, listening to the next steps of the investigation. Olive skin tone, vibrant ocean-blue eyes, handsome features and sun-kissed wavy brown hair that was just long enough to cover his forehead. He appeared confident in himself while equally concerned with the situation.
"Is there anything we can do?" Mason's voice had a faint accent as he spoke. The sudden statement interrupted Ballard's thoughts.
"Just if you know anything or see anything, contact us immediately." James replied sitting upright, readying himself to leave the interrogation room. Mason opened his mouth, then shut it. Ballard waited, but nothing more was said resulting in both he and James to rise to their feet.
"If needed you can take a moment to calm down before you leave. This room won't be used in the next hour. Thank you for your time." Ballard spoke while eyeing Ashley's sniffling form. The heavy door shut with a thud behind them and echoed in the room along with the women's soft sobs. Mason sat the most quiet, his eyes looking into the distance.
"Even if I have to spend all my inheritance, I'll find her. Don't worry." He softly smiled at the group to reassure them.
"After all, I feel partly responsible. Maybe I shouldn't have said anything." Mason sighed, looking down at his hands.
"Don't say that Mason!" Ashley suddenly burst out, startling Noah who had been leaning close to her. "We all knew you liked her. And I'm sure Violet was flattered! She's just a bit dense...and closed off. It took us YEARS to become friends with her. Right Jess?!"
Jessica curled the corner of her lips up in a faint grin and nodded in agreement. "The fact you're already a friend after just 6 months is record breaking!" Noah joked slapping Mason's shoulder.
They all smiled, including Mason, "Thanks guys." He knew they were just trying to make him feel better. It had been him who found Violet's purse and brought it back inside the pub, fear gripping his insides. He had followed after her when he realized she had been gone for too long. Then they all paid their tabs and left, calling her name and searching the nearby streets and alleys. All of this they had told the detectives.
Ballard's dark silhouette stood on the other side of the interrogation room glass, his arms crossed and his brow furrowed.
"Looks like the story holds true even when they are alone." James commented, his hands on his hips and eyes shifting to look at Ballard. But Ballard was watching the young adults, his intuition prickling the back of his mind. Something didn't feel right. Whether they were hiding something or not telling them everything, it was itching Ballard's conscious like when the bottom of your foot itches inside a shoe. You can't scratch it until you remove what blocks it, but Ballard had no idea what that might be.
-
Half an hour later Mason was walking along the sidewalk. The group had left the police station and all headed back to the hotel, except Mason. He told them he needed some fresh air and a good walk to clear his head, maybe even a good cry when no one was around. They all nodded in understanding before climbing in the cab and leaving him behind with a soft wave.
Mason took a deep breath, the chilly autumn air stinging his lungs before exhaling. His shoulders were stiff, and body rigid, a small hint to the true feelings being restrained behind a calm exterior.
His smooth board jaw clenched, eyes flickering a dark indigo, "I'll find you Violet." Mason whispered, jamming fists inside coat pockets and striding forward recalling the events of that night Violet disappeared. Mason hadn't told the group, or police, everything that had happened...
Mason sat idly in the pub chair, drumming his fingers on the table and watching the minutes change on his phone screen. Of course his confession had been abrupt and shocking, but Mason saw no reason to run away from it, to run away from him. He knew she was a tough one to crack, but it made him want her all the more. Another minute ticked by to signal a total of thirty had passed. Mason stood, throwing on his coat and gloves and was out the door in one swift sequence.
Outside he turned the corner and stumbled hard at a collision in his left shoulder. A frantic man, wide eyed and panting, scurried off leaving Mason's shoulder aching in his wake, and temperament worse off. A crunch sounded beneath his foot and glancing down Mason spotted a tube of lipstick broken under his shoe. There were many other random items all seeping out of a tousled bag. He recognized it as the purse Violet had been carrying that night. Mason's pace quickened in the direction the rat had come from and heard a scream in the distance. His heart dropped. It was a man's voice, but what little relief came thinking it wasn't Violet, vanished quickly when he saw the scene.
A tall figure stood in the belly of the alley, dropping the large form of a body before moving towards the wall. Mason strained his eyes to make out more in the darkness. The unknown person was picking up a woman's body, limp, most likely unconscious, and cradling her in his arms. The next thing Mason knew, they were gone, having slipped away into the vast blackness.
-
When the memory wheel had finished it's replay, Mason realized he had subconsciously walked through the streets, passed the pub, and now stood before the crime scene watching the yellow police tape dance in the wind.
Shifting his gaze down the street Mason took note of the several bars, clubs and restaurants lining the road. His refined form strode forward, pausing only for a moment outside one of the night clubs to read the name Phonox. Mason ducked in thinking this would be the perfect place to distract himself.