I still didn’t understand why I was there. I had asked Deb but she just told me she wanted me to watch. Watch what? What could she possibly want me to see on the top floor of this high-end hotel?
She knocked at the door and a few seconds later a man answered. Average high, platinum blond hair that was spiked up, wearing a crumpled up button-down shirt. “You’re not the pizza man.”
Deb glanced at her watch that read 10:25 am. “Were you expecting the pizza man?”
He paused a moment, shaking his head, a fake smile now bright on his face. “No, it just seemed like the thing to say.” without saying anything else he opened the door up enough to say we were welcome to come in as he made it back to the small corner of the room with a television. Instead of sitting on the sofa he set on the ground, resting his feel on where anyone else would have set. He must have noticed the looks he was getting.
Cocking his head, looking is way now. “You have to look at things in a different perspective sometimes.” the attention was back on the screen a moment later. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but there was something off about it. There was no emotion in his smile or his eyes. I wonder if Deb could feel it. Was this the reason I was here?
My presence here now seeming more irrelevant than before. But before I could ask Deb what we were doing her again another man entered the room. “Oh, detective? You are here a little early.” He looked past us and into the kitchen nook that was behind us to a wall clock. “My apologies, It seems I’m just a little late.” he gestured to the two stools that set in front of the counter. “Please take a seat, I’ll make us some tea.”
He had long cherry brown that hung a little past his shoulders. And even this early in the morning he sported a sharply tailored suit, the colour almost matching his hair with an intricate pattern woven in.
“I appreciate you seeing us,” she said as she walked to where he suggested we sit. Before she set down she pointed to me. “This is my brother, Dexter. I think between the three of us we can figure this out.”
He paused to look at me, there was a twinge of what could have been a smile, but his eye was hollow. I found myself wondering if that was how I looked to others. The smirk got bigger as he looked me over. “Dexter is it? Now isn’t that interesting?” the other stared at me for a moment before going back to the television.
Deb got a folder out as she sat down. “Do you want to do this before or after breakfast?”
“Makes no difference to me.” He answered as he set to cups in front of us. He’s stare was so unsettling. Was I seeing things, or was he just as hollow as I was?
“I have to warn you, these pitchers, they are unsettling.” It felt as if Deb herself was trying to delay opening the folder.
He must have picked this up as well. He reached over opening the folder, draping the contents along the marble tabletop. I eagerly looked over as well, not yet seeing what was in the folder myself. There were a few photos. Each with cut-up body parts. It was like a puzzle, all the pieces scattered about, how many people had there been altogether? Three, maybe four? It was hard to say with the way there were piled up. If only there wasn’t so much blood I would have been able to tell.
The man flipped threw the photos, his expression unchanging. Was that how I looked? It was a wonder no one expected anything of me if that was the case. There was no doubt in my mind that this man was a monster.
“Four of them,” he said as he flipped the photo to look at it from different angles. Three women, one man.” he said this as if these were not people, he was looking at a puzzle, just like me. How was he able to tell so fast? And with such serenity.
Curiosity got the best of me. “Doesn’t It bother you? Looking at these photos?” In the back of my head, I could hear him laughing, the dark passenger was right there. His interests peaked in what this all could mean.
“Why should they?” he didn’t lookup. “I don’t know any of these people, I have no connection to them.” he paused for a moment to look up. “I suppose hypothetically, I could have come across one of them, they may have bumped into or someone in front of me. Maybe I missed a taxi as a result.” he paused again, but no, as far as I know, I have no reason to mourn the death of these people.”
I found myself more interested in this man than the photos. Not once did his expression change, he didn’t even bother to fake it. What kind of monster was he? Because there was no doubt in my mind that he was.
The other began to walk over to where we set. “Grendel, Don’t come over here.” the man said, still not looking up. But it was too late, the other hand was over his own mouth, bent over and crouched on the floor. “He doesn’t like the sight of blood” he answered without anyone having to ask.
“What do you think Dexter?” Deb asked she didn’t actively try to look away from the photos. But she didn’t seem too keen on looking at them either.
I turned back to the two of them, but before I could answer he began to speak. “This was for fun, I doubt he even knew them,” he had the same name as me? It felt odd, more than it had any right to. A monster with the same name as me. I turned to the other, he was now back at the television.
How strang, two monsters, so similar to me. I found myself no longer looking at these two as separate people but one. The cold distance face of the man who shared my name. And the other, the false face to hide their true nature. It felt so obvious to me, there was never a question to it.
Despite finding the whole thing, interesting. I was now even more confused as to why I had been there. As if she could read my mind Deb looked over to him, wide eyes. “He’s fucked right, like there is something up with him right?”
I found myself not knowing how to answer her. “Do you think he killed them, people?”
She glanced at the folder, “No, we think we already know who did them. But he has been helping on things like this. Each time, no matter how fucked up it is, he always has the same face on. Like nothing can get to him. I wanted to know Dex.” she looked at me, not wanting to say the words.
“Are they a monster like me?” I said, not thinking anything of it. Deb made a half attempt at a smile.
“Well? Wait, what do you mean they? Like as in both of them?”
I had thought it was obvious, but I guess it wasn’t. “Both of them, yes.” my answer didn’t seem to make her happy.
She lunged back in her seat, “Shit, and here we are giving them all this information on all these crime scenes.”
“If you suspect them of something why,” she grunted before I could finish what I was saying.
“Because he’s good, he had no record and no one suspects anything. The only reason I thought of anything.” she took a deep breath in.
“He reminded you of me?” I asked, already knowing the answer. She looked at me, up and down before nodding her head.
“It’s only a matter of time before we hand him his own mutters, that is if we haven’t already, and how on earth are we supposed to read his face, there is nothing there.”
I was supposed to say something now, but I didn’t know what. Then it hit me, “you want to me to look into this?”
“No shit, no one else is going to be able to.” I didn’t understand why she was so worked up. Maybe she knew something she wasn’t telling me. No, that wasn’t it. Perhaps it was nothing more that he was a monster, but she didn’t know what kind. I smiled as I asked myself the same question. Why kind of Monster are you? And do you want to play?