21 Days

1

"You complicate things."

Cord shrugged. He never thought that he would be in the interrogation room in the place of a suspect one day. Force continued:

"If you have an alibi, why don't you want to use it?"

"Because it's an alibi that's best not to dwell on."

Force sighed wearily.

"Do you personally believe that I am a murderer?" asked Cord.

"Of course not! But the orderly and the nurse recognized you and—"

"Yes, I see. But I passed the 'dog test' twice, which resulted in nothing."

"The dog test" was the name of the police dog's alternating sniffing of an object belonging to the killer (this time a knife), then the suspect. Finding the person with a matching scent, the dog would stand at attention. This method was not often used: criminals rarely stay at the scene of the crime. Still, sometimes it allowed for the significant reduction of investigative work: the animal's sense of smell rarely failed.

Ten minutes after Cord was charged, he passed the test. Neither the dog from the Central Police Department nor the dog from the local precinct reacted to him in any way. Under normal circumstances, that would have been enough to let Cord go and not interfere further with his work, but…

"The news has reached the journalists, so Chief is now forced to keep you here until the real criminal is found. Do you understand?"

"I will consider it a vacation. By the way," Cord spoke in a lively manner, "when you go to my apartment, please do not break down the door, use the keys."

"Hold on, why should we go to your apartment?"

"To find bloody clothes."

2

The standard solitary confinement cell in the temporary detention center to which Cord was sent measured six square meters (2x3), not counting two squares for the sanitary facilities, those being a toilet bowl and a sink. The furnishings were sparse: a metal bed, and a table bolted to the opposite wall.

Since no one seriously thought Cord could have committed the murders, he was not sent to a pre-trial detention center. But Chief explained: until the noise from the media subsides, or they find the real culprit, Cord would have to hang around there; otherwise, the journalists and public activists would devour them.

That is, in a maximum of twenty-one days, he could return to work. Not so bad. Everything was better than fifty years ago, when the term of imprisonment could theoretically be eternal. (That is, until the case was closed or the suspect could be marinated behind bars. This quite often led to abuses of power by high-ranking police officers.) Regulations were then begun: first, they held suspects for a day (during which the police did not really have enough time to do anything because of the bureaucracy), then two days (a little better but often still not enough). Finally, the following wording was adopted: "In the case of investigative necessity, a suspect may be detained for up to twenty-one days."

Dia would have to be told about the trouble that had befallen him. He was supposed to get one call a week, but until next Monday, he didn't think it was advisable to bother her as she was probably still recovering at her country estate.

***

On August 16, the evidentiary hearings into Cord's case began as the days of forced idleness dragged on. For entertainment, Cord had a daily one-hour walk in a special fenced-in yard, his reading and endless reflections on what had transpired.

How had the killer managed to accurately copy my face? The most obvious answer was a mask or makeup, but are there such realistic masks that a person cannot distinguish from a real face? The skin, the wrinkles, the facial expressions… Something should have given away the artful fakery.

Why did the killer even do all this? To set me up? That was possible, but according to Force, nothing connected to the murder was found in my apartment. Why didn't the killer plant evidence since he was so professional? After all, he had at least half an hour after escaping from the hospital and before when I returned home. He could have done it if he had really wanted to damage me.

Then there is the question of who it could be. The name of only one person who might wish to cause me troubles is Familiar. But a month later? Although… Someone killed the driver who caused the accident a month ago! And killed him exactly when he came out of a coma. If the circumstantial evidence, in fact, points to the planning of that accident, then the three disparate events are all tied together.

Event One: Familiar kills Piala.

Event Two: Familiar organizes an accident to remove or scare me and end the investigation.

Event Three: a certain killer eliminates the driver, the culprit of the accident, so that he does not talk. But why didn't the killer get rid of the driver sooner? Well, in a coma, a person is not very talkative. Perhaps the person who ordered the accident thought that the driver would depart this world by himself, but it didn't work out, and then the killer had to act urgently.

On the other hand, was it so urgent? I don't know how long it takes to produce one super realistic mask, but it is hardly a quick matter. Surely you need to take measurements of the face and then thoroughly work on the product and fit it onto the customer's head. Although, of course, this is all just speculation…

***

However, during the next interrogation, he shared the thoughts with Force.

"It seems to me that you are just thinking things up," said his friend thoughtfully. "I mean, take Familiar. You and he are too different in build, so I doubt that the witnesses would have confused you. In addition, the footprints found on the lawn near the hospital do not match any of the footprints found in the park."

"He could have hired someone to carry out the killings."

"Someone inexperienced? Judging by the wounds he inflicted, the killer was inexperienced and impulsive."

"He managed to hit the doctor in the thigh with a knife throw," said Cord.

"Yet he couldn't hit the nurse. Indeed, the first time he just got lucky! Then again, there is the artery… Is a professional going to cut the carotid artery if he has no goal of killing the victim as quickly as possible? After all, there is a high probability of getting splattered with blood."

"But no prints were found on the knife…"

"For putting on gloves, you don't really need a lot of intelligence."

"And after that, you could not find the killer, although he left traces on the ground, and his clothes were probably covered in blood."

Force sighed.

"I can't comment on that. The killer was seen by so many people, but as soon as he jumped out of the window, he disappeared into the night."

"If that is not professionalism, then I don't know what is."

"Luck."

"Yeah, sure, he hung horseshoes around his neck and went to work."

Force smiled.

"Maybe that's it. Or you're right, and we're trying to catch a super highly trained professional who pretends to be ignorant."

3

In the early days of his detention, Cord spent little time in the cell: he was constantly summoned for interrogations and identifications both by his own people and by employees from another department. But then a week passed, and everything went quiet.

On August 23, Cord tried to call Dia but failed to get through: apparently, she had not returned yet. Okay, we would get in touch next week, no big deal.

In the end, there was no need to do that. Dia visited him herself on Friday.

They met in a specially designated visitation room. Slightly larger than the cell, but significantly more comfortable: the room looked like an inexpensive hotel room. There was a sofa bed, two upholstered wooden chairs, a round table, a black-and-white TV (seeing it, Cord grinned: even in the isolation ward, the furniture was better than his), and finally, a door at the far end of the room that led to a separate toilet with a shower.

In a business-like manner, Dia surveyed the surroundings.

"I thought it would be horrible."

"Our insolation hold is exemplary. So it's almost like I'm in a resort here," Cord chuckled. "In that regard, everything is new here as they remodeled it last year. Since then, there haven't been many people here in the isolation hold, and the room has only been used something like two times. So don't be afraid, it's clean in here."

Dia, who had been gazing at the sofa with apprehension, nodded and sat down, putting her bag on her knees. Cord sat down beside her.

"Searched?" Cord nodded at the bag.

"Uh-huh. They looked through it, but I only have a book in there."

"An interesting one?"

"So-so. I don't really like humorous fantasy, but at times it is funny."

"What is it about?"

"It's about a knight who killed a princess and saved a dragon." Dia giggled. "Allegedly, they are rare beasts, and princesses are a dime a dozen. I cannot but agree."

"Why?"

"Well, have you ever seen even one dragon?"

Cord chuckled.

"By the way, what's going on out there in the world?"

"Nothing really. Everything is the same as before." Dia smiled. "Although there is one thing, I will show you a little later. First, tell me, are you going to be in here for a long time?"

"I've been here for thirteen days already, and the maximum can only be twenty-one. In other words, in eight days at the most, I will be free."

"Is that legal?"

"Do you even know why I'm here?"

"Well… For something related to the hospital murders…"

"Yeah. Except at that moment, I was being driven home, and the driver could have confirmed my alibi, but I didn't use it. It is better, unless it is necessary, not to let it be known that you are familiar with Tsar and his daughter."

"Dad, by the way, was surprised that you did not turn to him for help."

Cord shrugged.

"If the killer had planted evidence of my 'guilt', I would have revealed my alibi. As it is, Force has conducted a good investigation, but the culprit has still not yet been found."

"Force? Are you talking about Force Majeure?"

"Oh. Have you met him?"

"Yeah. I had to speak to him at the police department, and now it turns out he is your partner. An amiable man. Like a bear. A teddy bear!"

"Don't tell him that," Cord smiled. "He will be offended."

"Is he also an investigator?"

"Yes, he is my partner. True, not for fieldwork anymore, but for office work. Regardless of that, if anything happens, I can be replaced. By the way, have you been back long?"

"Since Sunday. I called you in the evening, but you did not pick up the phone."

"Well, I'm sorry," Cord chuckled.

"There is nothing funny about it!" Dia stamped her foot. "I even went to your apartment to see you on Monday, but you didn't open the door. I knocked and knocked and then left and was really hurt by you!"

"And you sulked all week?"

"Sulked? Did I sulk?! I thought you were ignoring me! And then I read something in a magazine and realized that it was you who had been so unlucky."

"In which magazine?"

Dia reached into her bag, pulled the book, and handed it to Cord.

"Smuggling?" he smiled.

"Yeah. There are three clippings from different publications."

Cord opened the book and turned it so that the pages were hanging downward. He shook it, but nothing dropped out. Dia smiled slyly.

"They already looked at the book, but the papers were nowhere to be found. Why do you think that is?"

Intrigued, Cord began to examine the book. He looked down the inside of the spine—it was empty. He felt along both edges of the pages—no bulges or cuts and nothing out of the ordinary. Maybe a false cover? No, it had a factory cover, tacky, no doubt, with a princess and a dragon on it. Cord quickly flipped through a few pages, shook the book a few more times—still nothing. Dia giggled into her palm as she watched him.

"Do you give up?"

"No, give me a hint."

"Open page forty-three."

Cord opened to the page. The page looked like any other. Dense, yellowish, not translucent. Cord flipped to the next one. Page 46. Hmm?

"Have you guessed?" Dia looked as happy as a quokka.

Cord rubbed the page between his fingers, and then it dawned on him.

"Glued?"

"Above and below!" Dia announced triumphantly. "It turned into an envelope!"

Cord looked inside. And yes, there was a colored piece of paper with text on it between the pages.

"Ha, now my oranges don't look like such skillful contraband!"

"Nothing special, really!" Dia blushed with embarrassment. "Do you remember before, in old books, there were sometimes uncut pages? I drew inspiration from them. I spread ordinary PVA glue between them, and they turned into an envelope just like that."

"PVA? But the pages do not even have waves on them!"

"You just need to know how to glue," Dia winked. "I told you I'm not a workshy woman!"

Cord pulled out the piece of paper that had been laid inside and began to read it.

___________

The New Ripper?

A beautiful young girl taking an evening walk in the park was attacked by an unknown assailant. He inflicted numerous blows to her body, from which the girl died. The killer, of course, disappeared.

How long, dear ladies, how long will innocent girls be abused by men? How long will they, sisters and mothers, wives and girlfriends, be subjected to endless pressure from their brothers and husbands? Husbands who are supposed to protect them and not use them for selfish self-fulfillment at their expense?!

Later the investigation revealed that the girl who was killed was a representative of one of the oldest and concurrently one of the least respected professions (along with journalism) in the world, namely prostitution, whose girls are known by many names such as priestesses of love, ladies of the night, working girls, whores and of course prostitutes. In our modern society, can it be that girls who have chosen the path of delighting men are somehow worse than those who have not chosen to do so? Is a priestess of love the scum of society worthy of blame and condemnation?

Is a priestess one who must disappear and never be noticed?

According to information received from an anonymous source, the investigation of the murder has not moved at all and is literally frozen. Law enforcement representatives hide behind a lack of evidence and witnesses, but don't you think, dear readers, that the servants of the law are, in fact, obfuscating? Do you think that they have decided to hush this case up to not spoil their statistics?

Do you think that the case will be limited to one murder?

Forever yours,

Asking the wrong questions

Pink Flaminga

__________

"What is this?" Cord was surprised.

Dia blushed slightly.

"It is from a magazine for women, called 'Women's Secrets'…"

Cord, meanwhile, pulled out the second clipping, which was slightly smaller.

__________

Settlement of Scores?

I'll be brief today.

Recently, the car of the lead investigator working on the case of the priestess of love, which I wrote about previously, was rammed by the other car. All the participants in the accident were hospitalized.

An ordinary everyday accident, right? But doesn't it bother you, dear readers, that the investigator, according to rumors, who had almost caught the killer, the next day accidentally (?!) gets into a car accident in which he almost dies?

I don't remember who said "accidents are never accidental", but he was damned right.

The killer is covering his tracks. It is obvious. But he failed! Is it karma? I don't know. But now, as I write these lines, I find a smile on my face. A smile because this, sorry for the expression, bastard and scum, this villain, failed. The investigator survived, and now he will definitely catch him!

I pray to God, I wholeheartedly pray that the investigator will succeed!

Forever yours,

Wishing you a world of love and happiness

Pink Flaminga

__________

"Pink Flaminga…" Cord drawled thoughtfully. "Who is that?"

"A local columnist. She mainly writes all sorts of essays, and even if she reports the news, she does it in this style."

"As if communicating with her girlfriends."

"Uh-huh! But everyone loves her for it. And the clippings, by the way, are just from the news, not her column. That is why they are so small."

Cord pulled out the last clipping.

__________

Has the Killer Been Caught?

An anonymous source reports that a man suspected of killing three people has been detained. It turned out to be a police officer who was identified by two witnesses.

The bastard clearly and in cold blood killed the driver who was the perpetrator of the accident, which I have already told you all about. By unfortunate chance, the doctor on duty caught him at the scene of the murder. The enraged assassin chased after him and brutally dealt with him as well.

While trying to escape, he psychologically traumatized a nurse who encountered him on the stairs and almost broke the skull of an orderly who attempted to detain him. Then he jumped out the window and disappeared into the night.

And then, imagine if you will, he returned to the scene of the crime in the uniform of a police officer!

How insolent!

This ended his reign. Although he did not admit his guilt, the fact remains: two people cannot be wrong.

Forever yours,

Sighing with relief

Pink Flaminga

__________

"Hmm… I need to think about it. You have no idea how much you puzzle me."

"Is it good or bad?"

"Well, now the rest of my term will pass a little faster. Can I keep these papers?"

"Of course!"

Cord scanned the texts again.

"Listen, does this magazine come out often?"

"Twice a month. I'm subscribed to it." Dia blushed a little again.

"If it's not difficult, can you gather the writings of this journalist for me? The ones about this case? You don't have to cut them out, just bookmark them."

"Good! Oh, so was I helpful?"

"Very much!"

The bell rang, warning that it was the end of visitation.

"Well, we really didn't talk. Sorry."

"Never mind, it's nothing," Dia smiled. "You'll be out soon, and we'll talk then."

She put her arms around Cord's neck and kissed him goodbye on the cheek.

4

In the cell, Cord read the notes several more times. If the first one contained nonsense, then the next two contained some very interesting facts.

How did the journalist know I was in the car? How did she know I had already pinned down the killer? There was nothing to say for the third one; she told the exact version that the investigative follow up and analysis could show. Guesses? Let's say they were, but then how were they so close to reality? The same with the detail that the doctor on duty caught the killer in the act or that the killer disappeared into the night…

By the way. Where did I hear that phrase recently?

5

On September 6, Cord was released.

Finally, standing in the boss's office, he waited for him to sign all the paperwork.

"I beg your pardon, sonny, for all of this confusion." Chief handed the documents to the investigator. "We can do nothing without these journalists being around! They poke their noses into everything with their questions, and then they only create lots of noise!"

"No news about the killer yet?"

"Unfortunately, nothing. Force did a great job, but it wasn't enough. The killer appears to be very cunning."

"So now I can go back to work?"

"Starting tomorrow," Chief nodded, slightly wiggling his mustache. "We need a fresh look at the case. Has Force kept you informed?"

"Yes. I already have some ideas for the investigation."

"And I must also tell you that the first case, the murder of the prostitute Piala, will be officially suspended on the thirteenth of September."

Cord nodded.

"I think now we need to focus on the massacre in the hospital. I already lost a lot of time because of the imprisonment."

"Right, sonny, right. I'll be waiting for you at work tomorrow. Today get some rest."