16 - Time and Place

Jasper wasted no time. The morning after Raoul’s return to duty, they began retracing every step Raoul had taken. The older man moved through the case with methodical precision, reviewing files, re-interviewing witnesses, and examining the studio again with fresh eyes. Everywhere they looked, the evidence pointed in the same quiet direction: Virgil Vale had taken his own life. Jasper’s frustration was palpable, though he kept it tightly leashed.

Raoul followed in silence, the bandage over his left eye a constant reminder of how far he had already strayed from procedure.

The will reading had taken place that very morning. Upon their return home Violet looked exhausted, Vincent looked tense. It should have been a relief to have it over and done with, but it felt more like picking at old wounds.

By the time the two detectives arrived at the Vale estate in the late afternoon, the atmosphere inside the house was heavy and subdued. Violet sat on the sofa in the main sitting room, looking more exhausted than Raoul had ever seen her. Her shoulders were slumped forward, eyes red-rimmed and she seemed smaller than ever. Vincent stood close by, one hand resting protectively on the back of the sofa, almost like a warning. His posture was as rigid as always, though he seemed especially worn thin today.

Jasper paused in the doorway, taking in the scene with a hard gaze. He offered his hand to both of the Vales but pulled back when neither accepted the handshake. “My condolences on the reading,” he said, voice level but not unkind. “We would not be here if it were not necessary.”

Violet gave a tired laugh that held no humor. “Necessary. That is one word for it.”

Raoul stepped forward. “We need to ask a few more questions. Fresh eyes on the case. Standard procedure after… recent developments.”

Vincent’s gaze flicked between them. “You mean after my father assaulted a detective in his own office.” His gaze narrowed on Raoul, noticing the bandage wrapping around the detective's usually covered eye. For a moment he wondered what he'd have done in Raoul's position, then buried the thought. No point, at least the detective still had one good eye. He'd be fine.

Jasper’s expression remained neutral. “Among other things. The case is not closed. We need to be thorough.”

Violet rubbed her temples. “We just buried the last of my mother’s wishes today. You really think now is the time?”

Jasper did not soften. “The sooner we finish this, the sooner you can all move forward. I would prefer to get it done properly rather than drag it out for months.”

Raoul glanced at his father, keeping his voice low. “They are hardly in any state for this today. The reading was this morning. Give them a day or two.”

Vincent shook his head before Jasper could respond. “We do not have a lot of time. I am already feeling the strain and, frankly, the stress of having two detectives barge into my home makes it worse.”

Raoul raised his exposed eyebrow and scoffed. “Barely been a few hours and you already claim ownership of this whole deal. Impressive. Did you actually manage to get anything at all?”

Vincent tensed, Violet paled. Raoul felt himself put his foot in his mouth. This wasn't the time, everyone was still too raw including himself. “I'm sorry, that was uncalled for. Let's just get this over with.”

Jasper nodded once, decisive and eager to get out of this tense room. “Very well. We will split the questioning to keep it efficient. I will speak with Violet. Raoul, you take Vincent.”

Violet raised an eyebrow, a faint spark of her usual gremlin humor surfacing. “Splitting us up like proper suspects. How charming.”

“It is procedure,” Jasper said simply. “Nothing personal.”

Vincent gestured toward the hallway. “We can use my father’s old office. It is quiet.”

As the pairs separated, Raoul followed Vincent down the corridor. Once they were alone in Nero’s former office, the heavy oak desk and dark walls still carrying the faint scent of its previous occupant, Vincent closed the door with a quiet click. He leaned against the desk, arms loosely crossed, watching Raoul with careful intensity.

Raoul remained near the door at first, reluctant to move deeper into the room. He shifted his weight, fingers brushing the edge of the bandage over his eye.

“Why are you so determined to drag this case on and on?” Vincent asked, voice low and even. He gestured toward the files Raoul carried. “Every piece of evidence suggests Virgil chose his end. Yet you keep stalling and dragging out the whole affair! Why?”

Raoul hesitated, gaze dropping to the floor for a moment. He crossed to one of the chairs but did not sit, resting his hands on its back instead. “I'm not.”

“Bullshit.”

Raoul's one good eye shot up to meet Vincent's unusually sharp gaze. With a stunned frown he blinks a few times and shakes his head. “Excuse me?”

“You're stalling. Want to pin this on my father, I'm sure. Whether that's true or not you have to understand you're beating a dead horse by now.”

“Its plain to see Nero had no personal involvement in Virgil's death. This I know. I just need to be sure.”

Vincent narrowed his ever hazy eyes and scoffed under his breath. “Bullshit. Not many people like him, I'll accept that much without complaint, but your particular pursuit of my father was so obviously targeted one would think this was a set up job if it wasn't for the very real damage he'd done to to.” Vincent gestured at Raoul's patched up eye, watching the detective deflate somewhat. He sighed and ran his hands through his hair. “I mean no offense. I'm just tired, we all are. I'm sure you are as well, so just tell me why you're going through these lengths.”

“You're imagining things. Even if I personally don't like Nero's character I can't—”

“So you admit a bias against my father then. Why's that so difficult for you to just say plainly?”

Raoul sighed, letting his shoulders drop. For a moment he remained silent, almost as if looking for his voice before finding the strength to say something at all believable or not. “I… I don't like his character. That doesn't mean I came into this investigation trying to demonize him.”

“Then what was all this for?” Vincent's voice cracked, tension showing plainly on his face. “You almost died at my father's hand for what? Just a bunch.”

“A hunch I know I've the proof to back up!” Raoul's voice was a bitter, strained growl. The detective was as exasperated as the blonde looked. They were both exhausted and he knew it but he'd be damned if he let things escalate further. “I'm many things, Vincent. I'm not a fool. I did a whole lot more investigating than you would ever give me credit, and what did I find? Records of your father sabotaging your mother's medication and doctoring her records.”

Vincent fell silent for a while. His face had somehow paled further, and Raoul could swear he noticed Vincent's grip denting the wood grain table. “Your job was to investigate my brother's death.”

“And in doing so I'd come across information about potential foul play in Eleanor Vale's death. I'm not putting that aside if there's a ghost of a chance this could be a pattern with a dangerous individual. For Eleanor's sake, I can't.”

Vincent’s eyes narrowed. He pushed off the desk and took a slow step closer, head tilted. “For Eleanor’s sake. How noble. You truly expect me to believe your crusade is purely about my mother’s memory and not your own benefit?” His fists tightened at his sides, ready to strike whenever necessary.

Raoul’s fingers tightened on the chair. He looked away, reluctance clear in the set of his shoulders. After a long pause he exhaled. “It is not only that. This is what Virgil wanted.”

“You don't speak for my brother!”

“I never claimed to!”

The room fell silent for a long moment. For a while all they could hear was the sound of a wall clock ticking and the feint mumbling between Jasper and Violet from down the hall. The two were having a much more civil conversation while the standoff between them. Vincent was the first to deflate slightly and Raoul followed soon after. “I mean no disrespect detective, I'm just tired. I'm so tired.” Vincent whispered.

“No, I haven't been very forthcoming. It's a stressful time for you all, honestly we shouldn't even be here.” Raoul murmured with a small shake of his head. “I'll admit, I wasn't the most forthcoming. You're right, I don't speak for Virgil. But I recognize when someone's been done wrong, and I won't pretend I didn't have my reasons for it as well.”

Vincent's eyes caught Raoul's gaze. “Elaborate.”

“We were friends, Virgil and I. Old friends. We talked a lot, so I'd grown to learn about what Nero was like.”

“You shouldn't have taken the case.”

“I know. Truth is, we'd talked about it for a while. I didn't think he'd be serious.”

“You and Virgil?” Vincent studied him for a long moment, expression unreadable.

“Yeah. Just as kids though, as you can imagine I didn't take him serious. Not until the report landed on my desk. A few other officers passed it up.”

“Why?”

Raoul practically scoffed before clearing his throat, not wanting to upset Vincent further. “Who would be crazy enough to take a Vale case? Your entire family's got the kind of reputation that'd set a detective up for life, if any of you got caught on anything without getting away with it.”

Vincent circled the desk slowly, one hand trailing along its edge. “So the bias was always there. You saw what you wanted to see because it served Virgil’s wishes and your own ambitions. Convenient.”

Raoul did not deny it. He finally lowered himself into the chair, rubbing the bridge of his nose above the bandage. “I was too close to the case, I'll admit. I told seniors about his thoughts, his intentions. I. Thought they'd have helped him. So when I learned what happened I figured I'd—”

“No. Enough. I'm tired of hearing it.” Vincent stopped pacing. A flicker of something almost like understanding crossed his face. “I don't need you to justify why you'd risk your entire career for my dead brother's ridiculous plan. And to elevate your own career off my family's own name no less.”

“I'm not apologizing. My motives might be crooked but I won't pretend that the man who attacked me was a saint.” Raoul shouted, taking a step closer to Vincent's still pacing form. “Say what you will but if nothing else, I've proven Nero's a problem.”

“Your words mean nothing.” His tone sharpened again.

“Then surely his words do!” Raoul's voice turned raspy as he tried, though failed, to keep his voice low. “I don't care what you think of me. I know what Virgil wanted me to do, and I pursued it out of my own interest. For better or worse, that's what I've done and continue to do.”

Vincent exhaled slowly, hand pinching the bridge of his nose. “I received a letter from Virgil. Violet did as well. I assume you received one too.” When Raoul remained silent, Vincent’s voice dropped, firm and deliberate. “He mentioned his suspicions about mom's passing. Figured there was some manner of foul play.”

Raoul sighed, hand scratching the back of his head as if waiting for Vincent to let the moment pass. But he never did. After a minute of silence Raoul grew exhausted with Vincent's piercing glare. “I might have a letter insinuating something like that.”

Vincent's jaw tightened but he didn't raise his voice. “How do you know that other detective, Jasper, won't come across it and finding out your involvement.” Raoul had no response to that. He'd been too tired to think much about that possibility.

Vincent shifted, rubbing his temple briefly. His posture betrayed the strain. His condition was slowly worsening under the stress of the past weeks. “I am not feeling well. Talking is draining, but working is draining.”

“If I could've, I'd have stalled my father for a few more days to give you all a break.”

“Pot calling the kettle black?” Vincent mumbled, gesturing at the detective's bandaged head.

“I'm exhausted, yes. But Virgil's case isn't closed yet.”

“And it won't be until what? Until you sign Virgil's death certificate? You could do that this instant.”

Raoul nodded. “I'll try. I'll try get this sorted as soon as possible, so you can finally get this all behind you.”

Vincent gave a small, tired smile. “I doubt that'll be the case. My father's arrest is sure to bring some new issues.” Vincent sighed, slumping down into what Raoul could only assume was Nero's chair behind the desk. “Tell me, please, what did Virgil say to you in that letter?”

“What?”

“The solicitor, Cyrus, already told me there's a letter that went missing. And that it was addressed to you. If Virgil put you up to this I don't care. Just... Tell me, please?”

Raoul huffed, deciding he'd said more than enough for once. He didn't have it in him to say anything else, so instead turned his back to the suddenly wary Vincent and waved goodbye before leaving the office.

Vincent sighed, watched the detective leave, and slumped into the chair. He was tired. He was far too tired to keep this up. Before he realized it, he began muttering under his breath.

“'Whatever you find along the way I leave to your discretion. I think you'll know what to do. I'm sorry things ended this way...'”