The Fourth Murderer

"Oh! You're here!" Jessica exclaimed.

Hebrew without wasting a second kept his hand on her back and slightly pushed her inside the station.

"Let's talk inside it's not safe here."

Jessica nodded and obediently walked into the station.

"Good afternoon, Mr Hebrew! How can I help you?" Emma Simpson offered a broad smile plastered on her face.

"Looks like we have our celebrity detective's fan here," Jessica whispered in his ear, making him glare at her again.

"Well...we were finding Mr Robert Stone, is he here?" Hebrew asked.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, but...you're not supposed to find him here today, he is...on a leave." She said with a general concern on her face.

Hebrew frowned, "Robert isn't a type to take leaves?" He mumbled.

"Huh?" Jessica asked as she looked at Hebrew.

"Is Mr Winchester here?" He questioned, his brows furrowed.

Emma shook her head. Jessica looked at him in confusion.

"You stay here or either take a taxi I have some business to handle," Hebrew said in a hurry and left Jessica behind.

When Jessica came outside running, Hebrew was already gone.

~~~~~~

"Hello, who's speaking?" The man on the other side of the call questioned.

"Don't you think you know? Haven't you heard this voice before?" The person standing in the telephone booth responded.

"It's you, isn't it? What do you want now?" The man on the other side had a shiver in his voice.

"You are Winchester's driver and only you know where he is right now, so...tell me where he is before-"

"The Ewer Street!" Winchester's driver interrupted without even hesitating.

"He is going to meet a girl named, Amelia. He is going to pick her up from the bus stand near Ewer street."

The man whose muffler totally hid his face came out of the telephone booth as he disconnected the phone. His green eyes shining as he smirked.

"Winchester, I know who you're up to now."

~~~~~~~

Here Jessica was flustered. She sat in the first taxi she saw and headed towards Hebrew's house.

"What are you up to now, Flynn Hebrew?" She looked out the window, anger raging in her eyes. Anger was feeling an outcast suddenly, anger being left behind again.

'What does he think of me?' She thought, clenching her jaw.

"All this time I tried so hard to keep you by my side, I even got drunk just so I could be around you. And you...you left me alone?" She mumbled, her fingernails digging into her palm as she folded them in a fist.

She knew that if Hebrew doesn't tell his intention, there was only one place that could tell about what's going on in his mind, his house. Knowing it was easy to barge in as she had noticed how clumsy he was with locking the door of his house. She had even made sure that he doesn't give a damn about it by warning him several times.

Those times when she had said to keep the door locked. Those times when she warned about his house being checked out by someone unwanted, she realised it was something very least Hebrew had ever cared about.

As she reached outside the four-story apartment, she rushed toward the stairs. Stomping her heels over every step which echoed on the empty floors could tell how desperate she was to search his entire house.

As she grabbed the doorknob and turned it, the door opened, "As expected." She smiled viciously.

She entered his house. Lights were off. His house gave out a dull look as the apartment was quite old. After all, after that one case five years ago, Hebrew had lost everything he had, his wealth, his house, his friends, his reputation, everything. Living in this old and dull apartment was least expected by Hebrew when he got out of prison, but also he knew that his condition wouldn't let him live much longer if he tried finding his satisfactions with only a buck in his hand. And so, he adjusted in the least.

Jessica stepped inside and straightly head towards his bedroom,

"What are you hiding in this old house of yours?" She mumbled as she made her way through the empty bottles of wine, which they had emptied yesterday.

His bedroom was something much more cleans fn bright than his entire house, the whole white walls and ceiling gave out bright reflection making it blinding bright. Now that she came inside his bedroom in a more relaxed way, she realised how organised this part of his house was.

A desk in a corner, a bed in the middle glued to the wall just beside the door of his room. A wooden old cupboard and some cartoon boxes and a dustbin in a corner of the small mirror hung beside the desk.

She slipped inside, opened the cupboard. She...was finding something, something she was so desperate to own. He had his cupboard filled with a couple of shirts and overcoats. Nothing much other than that. Those cartoon boxes she opened one by one. Many pages were there, along with some files. Every file having a label in it, Calloways familicide, Mr Cameron's murder mystery and many more.

"Are these your case records? I bet if you really solved them on your own, you fake!" She mumbled fiercely.

As searched through them, her eyes fell on the dustbin, also full of pages. She walked on her knees towards it and turned it upside down.

As the pages fell from the dustbin, she frowned. They weren't just pages, they were tissues, with bloodstains on them.

"What the heck is this?"

"Does he get mobbed by people often?" She thought for a second, her eyes suddenly filled with sympathy for Hebrew.

But she shook it away, "He is not what he seems, Jessica." She reminded herself.

"Just do what you're here to do, and leave." She put all the tissues back in the dustbin and as she was about to check other boxes, something hustled in the hall.

She froze at her place, her heart jumping in her chest. 'Did he arrive already?' She thought and gulped.

She stood up quietly and made her way towards the hall, her hands curled up in fists in case of self-defence. Who knows what goes in the mind of fake detective Flynn Hebrew.

She steadily kept her feet in the ground one by one, each step stabbing dagger in her heart. She was not and was curious at the same time about who had entered the house; which was ninety-nine percent Hebrew?

As she reached the hall she saw a silhouette, not of Hebrew though,

She pointed at the silhouette, "Whose-"

But before she could finish, someone kicked behind her leg, making her kneel. And they placed an elbow on her back, resisting her from moving.

"Ah!" She winced...

~~~~~

Here Hebrew stood not too far away from Winchester, who was standing at the bus stop, looking at his watch from time to time. Winchester's attire seemed quite familiar to Hebrew.

And as soon as he got a hint of why it seemed so, he quickly took out the notepad he had all this time in the inside pocket of his pullover.

"Black overcoat, black gloves, a hat and oh! An Arabian checkered pattern scarf, too. You made it so obvious, Winchester." Narrowed his eye on him.

"So it was really you, huh?" He folded his arms.

He was waiting to see as if Winchester's driver was correct or Winchester was here for some other reason. He moved a little closer so he could hear and see everything Winchester said or did.

After a minute, Winchester again looked at his watch and muttered, "It is nearly time now."

Hebrew wondered what exactly he wanted to say when he heard a sudden scream coming from a small alley behind the bus stop.

Winchester turned around and Hebrew hid behind a pillar of the building under which he was hiding.

Winchester ran towards the alley and so did Hebrew after him.

Many people had gathered around in the narrow alley with a dead end. As Winchester walked past them stating that he was an officer, he was, for a moment, stunned.

In the centre laid a body of a woman, blood making pool around her, and her eyes wide open as if staring at the killer who did this to her.

"How the fu-" he paused as he saw Hebrew coming out of nowhere and standing beside him.

His eyes stuck on the corpse of the lady.

"What are you doing here?" Winchester instantly asked.

"Trust me, I want to ask you the same question, but I am worried the situation doesn't make me do so." He replied, his eyes not leaving the body, making Winchester gulp. A drop of sweat ran through his side lock...