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"Let'ssay we believe you for now," Fiona said, trying to suppress her owndoubts. "Is there anything else you can tell us about what happenedyesterday? Anything that might help us find the real killer?"
"Idon't know," Dave muttered, rubbing his temples as if trying to summon amemory. "I mean, I didn't see anything unusual, and I definitely didn'tsee anyone get killed. I wasn’t even here! I just want this nightmare to beover."
"Trustme, so do we," Fiona said, exchanging a look with Jake. There wassomething about Dave's story that bothered her, nagging at the edges of hermind like an itch she couldn't quite reach. "I understand you were 'sick'yesterday," Fiona said.
"Iwas puking all morning," Dave muttered. "I may have had a few drinksin my hotel room the night before, and I couldn't come into work, but thatdoesn't mean I killed someone."
Fionastudied Dave's face, searching for a flicker of dishonesty. His eyes were wideand pleading, and his voice trembled with desperation as he spoke.
"I'mnot a killer," he insisted again, his hands gripping the edge of thetable.
"Thenwhy did you really run?" Jake asked, his voice low and steady, like thecalm before a storm. Fiona couldn't help but admire his ability to remaincomposed in even the most tense situations. She aspired to be an agent like himsomeday.
"Look,I didn't kill anyone. But..." Dave hesitated, biting his lip. "Thereis something I need to tell you." He glanced nervously between the twoinvestigators, weighing his options.
"Whatis it?" Fiona urged, her arms crossed over her chest. She was growingimpatient; each wasted minute felt like an eternity when there was a murdereron the loose.
"Fine,"Dave sighed, slumping back in his chair. "The truth is, I'm a thief. Ireally was sick yesterday, but I came in later in the day, just as that...thing happened. When I heard the commotion yesterday, I saw an opportunity, andI took it."
"Anopportunity for what?" Jake asked, his brow furrowed.
"Somethingfrom the museum," Dave admitted, his cheeks flushing with shame. "Arare artifact that would fetch a pretty penny on the black market."
"Isthat why you were running?" Fiona asked, trying to piece together thetimeline. She didn't want to buy Dave's excuse so easily.
Davenodded. "Yeah, I panicked when I saw you guys coming for me. I thought youknew about the theft."
Fionaleaned forward, her eyes locked onto Dave's. "What did you steal?"
Davehesitated, his eyes dropping to the floor. "It's called the 'Jewel of theRainforest,'" he whispered.
Fionafrowned. She had never heard of the artifact before, but she took out her phoneand did a quick search. It was a rare emerald carved into the shape of a beetlethat was said to have been blessed by an indigenous tribe in South America. Itseemed like it would be worth something to the right collector.
"Thatsounds like quite a score," Jake said.
"Itwasn't about the money," Dave said quickly, his eyes darting nervouslybetween Fiona and Jake. "It was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. I don'teven know who I'm supposed to sell it to yet."
"Right,"Fiona said skeptically. It was possible he was telling the truth - that he wasnothing more than a common thief who'd gotten caught up in a murderinvestigation.
"Let'ssay we believe you," Jake said, his voice edged with skepticism. "Howcan we be sure you're not involved in any way with the murders?"
"Checkthe security footage," Dave said, his voice confident. "You'll seethat I was nowhere near the crime scene when it happened. I know because Iremember exactly where I was going at the time, everyone startedscreaming."
Fionasupposed that was the one thing that could absolve him--the security footage.They were already very confident the man in the black beanie hat was thekiller, but if that wasn't Dave, then it must have been someone else.
"Alright,"Jake agreed, standing up from his chair. "We'll review the footage and seeif your story checks up. In the meantime, you're staying right here." Hegestured to the empty room around them, indicating there would be no escape forDave.
"Fine,"he muttered, resigned to his fate. As Fiona and Jake exited the room, shecouldn't help but feel a strange mix of emotions - frustration at the potentialdead-end in their investigation but also a sense of relief that they might haveat least found some answers. If Dave's story was true, they could focus theirefforts on finding the true killer.
***
Thefluorescent lights flickered above Fiona and Jake as they hunched over theirlaptops in the briefing room. The sterile environment seemed to heighten thetension, both of them intent on finding the truth hidden within the securityfootage sent to them from the museum. Fiona watched carefully as Jake skimmedthrough footage from different angles of the museum.
"Here,"Jake said, pausing the video to show Dave standing near a display case ofancient artifacts. "That lines up with what he told us."
Fiona'seyes traced the timestamp, noting the exact moment the killer was seen enteringthe bathroom after the victim. As she compared it to Dave's position on theopposite side of the museum, her heart sank. There was no denying it - Davewasn't their killer.
"Lookslike he was telling the truth about being a thief, at least," shemuttered, disappointment lacing her voice.
