A Problem With a Witness

On the evening of May 12, the four gathered in the kitchen again. There was tea on the table, like yesterday, but the mood today was much more positive. Cord could not even believe that less than a day had passed since the murder of Force and the difficult conversation.

"So, friends, as I said, the ending of the story will become known after the start of the investigation. True, I thought I would not receive the data until Monday, but it turned out I got it promptly. Mort, we are going to act on the second version of the plan."

The big fellow nodded.

"I'll tell you the rest now. True, you, especially Dia, won't like this crap. Since the Villain's fate is unknown and I have no idea who he is, his search is canceled. Now my task is not to go to jail. For that, the Villain must eliminate the last threat, that is, me. But let's start in order."

"Wait, in what sense 'eliminate'?" Dia was worried.

"Slow down. First, I'll tell you what Mort's role is in all this. It is he who will become part of my salvation, and there are two reasons for that." Cord took a sip of tea and smiled. "First, on the day Familiar was killed, I asked Mort for a motorcycle, and he gave it to me. During the investigation, it was discovered that I screwed up and left a tire track near the house."

"Come on, buddy," Mort gave Cord a friendly pat on the shoulder. "It's impossible to foresee everything. I'm always glad to help you, and your plan threatens you more than me."

"That's right," Cord nodded. "The second reason is a problem with a witness. Mort was noticed when he was taking Force into the street. Therefore, it will be necessary for him to be the scapegoat for a time. Force is being buried next week, and I think that around the same time, it will dawn on me who might be the assassin. They'll come for you, Mort, on Thursday or Friday if no one guesses before me. That is hardly possible as the case was handled by Force and me, and the others simply do not have all the details that we… I know. Will you have time to finish your business?"

"Of course, I have already agreed on everything with Tusk."

"Great. You know how to act after the discovery, but maybe we will think about it a little more. And further, Fiddler," Cord looked at his friend with a smile, "it all depends on you. You have to kill me."

"What? Can you repeat that please…?"

"A stab in the chest with a knife."

"WHAT?!" Dia and Fiddler exclaimed in unison.

"Between the ribs. To the left lung."

"ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?!"

"Dia, stop—"

"You gathered us here to say that you want to kill yourself to be saved? Cord, you're fucking crazy!" Dia threw up her hands and immediately covered her mouth with her palm. "Sorry," she said without taking her hands away from her mouth and blushed deeply.

"Dia, that's the point!" Cord replied with fervor. "This is pure insanity, and therefore it will work!"

"I still won't subscribe to this," Fiddler shook his head.

"Then who? If Mort had not been burned by Force's neighbor, he would have done the stabbing, but now you have to. Or do you want to force Dia to?"

"You are carrying on as if this is some kind of game!" Fiddler angrily slapped his hand on the table. "Do you really understand? You are actually suggesting I kill you!"

"I'm not suggesting, but asking!"

"Let's say I stab you. You will lie there in a pool of blood and die, and what am I?"

"Run to call an ambulance at the nearest phone."

"And if it does not arrive in time, you will die!"

"No, I will not die!" Cord caught his breath. "You don't understand what I want to do, do you? I want the investigation not to think about my guilt! And for this, I will discredit myself for the last time, accusing innocent Mort! Meanwhile, the 'real' killer will make an attempt on my life and almost kill me, thereby proving that Mort was not involved in any of the deaths. This is a gambit, you know? As in chess, when you sacrifice a piece to trap your opponent. And I understand how it sounds. What normal person would suggest such a thing?"

"Exactly!" Dia exclaimed.

"That's why it's going to work. Nobody will expect this. No one would even imagine that the victim of a murder, even a survivor, is, in fact, the culprit everyone is looking for. Do you know what suspension of disbelief is?"

"That is from literature," Fiddler explained. "When a writer adds a bit of believability to a work, the reader does not look for inconsistencies and accepts the conventions of the narrative. But how does this relate to—"

"It's the other way around here," interrupted Cord, "creation of disbelief. I construct a situation so absurd that none of my colleagues would believe that I could be its author. And foundations are already established. It is absolutely illogical that the crimes were committed by me, and today they agreed with this. Moreover, my boss, Chief, suggested that the killer might try to get rid of me, and when he really does, it will illustrate Chief's rightness, further reinforcing the mistrust that I could have done all this shit."

A thoughtful silence reigned at the table, interrupted by a soft crunch. Dia and Fiddler pondered Cord's words. Mort was drinking tea and eating waffles.

"Understand, friends," Cord spoke softly, "sometimes acting stupid is the smartest option, especially when no one expects such crap from you."

"I… I understood what you want to do," Dia said, "but this is very dangerous! A wound in the chest and even with a knife—"

"Dia, listen," Cord interrupted his wife. "You now think that I want to kill myself. But this is not true. I didn't maneuver and kill my friends and do all this for so long to lose everything in an instant." Cord sighed. "Of course, you can't trust people who say, 'Trust me!' and don't explain why you should. But today, Dia, I have to ask you this: please trust me. Trust in my resilience. Trust in my motivation. Trust in my knowledge. I will survive, I promise. I have something and someone to fight for. But I need your help, friends," Cord looked them over. "I can't do it without you. Everything will have been in vain. What do you say, Fiddler?"

"Aaah, to hell with you," he waved his hand.

"And you, Dia?"

Dia blinked as hard as she could and nodded reluctantly. She had married this… this!