Autopsy of a Mind

He stiffened and his eyes widened in panic. I noted unsteadily as his eyes moved to the CCTV camera and he kept shaking his head. "No one was helping me. What makes you say that?" The hand on the table slid away as he fit it underneath. His body was defensive and I realized I had made a huge mistake. 

I kept my mouth shut as I waited for someone to show up. How was I supposed to make this situation better? I heard footsteps from behind me. It was Sebastian. He was almost running towards me. He stayed hidden from Dean's side and whispered to me. 

"Come out. It's okay."

"It's okay, Dean. I didn't mean anything by that. I'll leave you for a while," I said with a slightly stiff smile and closed the door. I quickly moved away as if the doorknob was on fire. 

"I messed up, didn't I?" I groaned. 

"No. It's okay. It was not part of the plan, it was okay." He remained relatively silent. "Let's get you washed up. You never know what kind of germs he is carrying around. He might be a drug addict, too. Wash your hands." I nodded and followed him. 

"But why am I washing up?" I said suddenly, realizing what was wrong with his words. "What? Am I supposed to get psychopath germs from interacting with him?" 

We were already at the little monitoring room when I said it. Sebastian pushed me inside and shook his head. 

"Evie," Detective Nash called. He looked unbothered by the last stunt I pushed but the guilt made me speak. 

"I'm sorry for going out of the script. I messed up." I bowed my head. 

"Oh, don't say that! You were such a joy to work with. You followed the signals so well and made so much progress with the suspect. I was astounded." He smiled warmly. "As I matter of fact, I am wondering if I should steal you from Sebastian. What are your thoughts on taking the civil service examination, huh?" he joked. 

"Well, she might have been better than some other detectives but she was way too familiar with him. While you act understanding and offended on the suspect's behalf, don't make him think that he shouldn't respect you at all."

"Did I do that?" I asked. 

Detective Nash nodded. "Well, these videos get submitted to the jury, so if they see someone overly sympathizing, it can look bad for the detective. It was a great tactic, especially in this case, but you'll learn to tone it down a little." 

"I'll study this more," I informed them sincerely. 

"I can't believe a suspect asked you out for coffee in the first interrogation," Sebastian scoffed. 

"It's because Evie is a catch and everyone can see how charming she is," Nash defended quickly. 

"I'm sorry. I don't want anyone to ask me out!" Sebastian retorted. "What's so good about being popular among criminals?" The snort came and Detective Nash looked between the two of us speculatively. I wanted to defend myself but Nash might have already drawn his conclusion. 

This was what I was scared about. This misunderstanding. It was okay. 

"You don't mind me stealing your assistant, though?" Nash asked, surprised. 

"We'll have a three-month school break after the exams and I won't be busy at that time. She can use the time time to productively intern with your team. She'll learn a lot." Sebastian glanced towards me in question. 

"That sounds nice," I encouraged. It seemed he had planned out my future very well. As we were talking amongst ourselves, I saw Dean's reaction on the monitor. 

"What is happening?" I asked, pointing towards the screen. 

"You are seeing a human being experience an emotional reckoning so overwhelming while also trying to process of understanding how terrifying his current situation is."

He was pacing across the room, mewling and wailing. He looked like he was having a breakdown.

"This is unexpected from him. He was so cocky and sure that he had done the right thing..." I trailed off. 

"Usually, the ones like him don't cry. They silently stew in their misfortune. But he..." Nash frowned. 

"It's because Evie asked me about someone helping him," Sebastian interjected. "That put him off-guard."

"What did you mean by that, Evie?" Nash asked me curiously. 

"Something has been bothering me," I explained. "I was trying to ignore it, but the glaring evidence has made me unable to look away."

"What evidence?" Sebastian asked. 

"You must have recognized it, too," I pleaded, my eyes searching for understanding. "He is a violent individual but I don't think he would murder people again. Even if it is possible, the showmanship, the idea of punishment, it wouldn't match with his profile. Medieval torture methods for the punishment of criminals? That is a highly improbable method of execution, won't you say?"

"But it still doesn't indicate that someone else was involved," Nash interjected. 

"At first, it was just a suspicion, now I am sure. Earle is the third victim. There were two others before whose records were not made public. Especially Richard who was in the military. I refuse to believe that the victims would tell Dean about their crimes." I shook my head. "I have spoken to him. He is mildly charming, but not enough to invoke confessions from people. Someone fed him the information. Someone fed him information." 

"Lastly, the fire alarm rang without prompting. There was no fire, but just as people started to notice something was wrong, the alarm rang." I gave Sebastian a pointed look. 

"I suspected the same," he said. "That's why I went running when you asked Dean. I was meaning to ask him myself when I evaluated him and the crime," he informed. 

"Sorry. I ruined it for you," I frowned. 

"You didn't. Seeing him in this state is a good sign. When he feels doomed, he'll tell me more easily to make himself look morally better." I nodded. I would believe what Sebastian said. 

"Is there anything else?" Detective Nash asked, peering at me. 

"There was something that the person sitting beside me at the show said that stuck with me," I told him tentatively. "I bought the tickets on the day of the show. I bid for it and the price of the ticket was the same as what the others bought." I sighed. 

"What about it?" Detective Nash asked. 

"The show was sold out months in advance. Everyone bought it then but I somehow got two resold tickets for such a cheap price." It was really bothering me. 

"You could have been lucky." I shook my head. 

"I have used up my miracle for this life. This is not an easy coincidence to have." I pressed my hands over my chest and waited for their input. 

"Used up your miracle, huh?" he repeated. "Do you have the link to the post you bought it on?" I nodded. 

I pulled out my cellphone and showed him the information. "The seller deleted their account. I have screenshots of everything so... here." I bit my lips. 

"Thanks, just send it to me." I did have the Detective's number, so I sent it to him within a few moments. 

"Why do you think someone targetted you?" Sebastian asked. He was sure there was an ally, but he didn't seem sure about the tickets. It could be a coincidence, I could see his opinion in his eyes. But that was it. It wasn't. I wasn't being paranoid. 

"Not me. They want your attention," I told him quickly. "I made the account in your name. The card details were yours, too. So, whoever this is, was targetting you," I informed him. Sebastian's eyes hardened slightly and then he shrugged. 

"Well, as long as it's not you." He chuckled. 

"You two are so strange," Nash declared. 

"Well, don't worry. I'm proficient in martial arts, I'll protect you," I joked, even though this was not a joking matter. 

"And you can run as fast, too. So, you just run if someone attacks me. I'll handle it myself." He raised his hand to shuffle my well-placed hair. I ducked away, avoiding his hand. 

"Don't rub my hair, all my hair will fall," I warned. 

"Well, I wouldn't want to run around with a bald assistant," he insisted. 

"Okay, break it up, you two." Nash clapped his hand. "What are we going to do with him?" He pointed towards Dean, whose mental breakdown had turned into anger. 

"We'll listen to him rage for another hour. Let him along with his thoughts. I think he's on drugs or was on drugs until yesterday. Let it make him paranoid. The more he spills the easier it will be for us to ask him intrusive questions." 

"Do you want me to go in with you?" I asked. 

"No, you stay outside. Take extensive notes and transcribe the whole interview for now." I glanced towards Nash. 

"Do it. We'll take permission from the higher authority and judges so that he can include the case in his class and next book." Detective Nash chuckled. "You better put my name in the acknowledgments. Actually, you know what? I want to write the introduction to your book." 

I giggled as the two bargained about how important their name would be in the research. It was hilarious. They went from crime-fighting machines to academics really quickly.