?HIS BALLERINA ?
THEME: {What the heart sees}
✍️Written By Precious Pinky✍️
?Chapter Twenty-Two ?
~A possibility~
?ACE?
“Good day sir.” Hannah greeted with a warm smile on her face. And as usual her boss didn’t return the smile back to her but rather frowned at her, rasing a questioning brow at her. “You have a guest.” She said, answering his unasked question
“Who?” He questioned, looking down at the doc-ument in front of him.
“Mr Derick.”
“What is he doing here?” He asked looking up at her now.
She shrugged. “I don’t know sire but he said he wants to see you for something very important.”
He nodded letting out a sigh. “Let him in then.”
****
Mr Derick have been working together with then even when his father was still very much alive. He doesn’t know much about the man in person but there is something strange about the man that got him wondering about his intentions towards his (Ace) company.
It would be very good if he go about suspecting people of his father’s death but this man… there’s just something strange about him.
When they had met for the meeting the other time, he asked after his mother which was quite suspicious.
What was his business with her?
It’s not bad to ask after your late business partner’s wife but the way he said it was what seem to amuse Ace.
What was he even doing here? Why was he here?
Ace can’t remember asking him for a meeting. He has been very busy investigating about that doc-ument that went missing right in his Café. He has a lot going on in his mind to even think about Mr Derick talk more of a meeting.
The door to his office opened, Mr Derick walked in and shut the door close before walking closer to Ace’s desk.
He smiled at him, receiving a scowl in return.
“Ace.” He said.
“What are you doing here?” Ace asked coldly instead of offering him a seat like every normal person will.
“Is that the best way to treat a guest?” Mr Derick teased, grinning.
Ace rolled his eyes looking annoyed already. “Seat.” He offered nonchalantly.
“Thank you.” Mr Derick drew out a chair and sat down. “How are you doing?”
“I guess that’s not the reason why you came here, Mr Derick.” Ace stated ignoring Mr Derick question.
Mr Derick laughed as if Ace just said a joke. “You are quite funny, my son.”
“I never said a joke, Mr Derick.”
“I love your arrogance. Just like your father.”
“What do you want?” Ace asked again, glaring at Mr Derrick.
“Well…I heard about the investigation,” He began. “I will like to a-ssist you.”
“Excuse me?”
“Listen Ace, you can’t do this all hy yourself, you_”
“Why?”
“What?”
“Why do you want to help me out in the investigation?”
He smiled, shrugging his shoulders. “It’s my friend we are talking about here, Ace.”
“Partner.” Ace quickly corrected. “You both were just partners and not friends.” He added.
“You forgot.” Mr Derick observed.
Ace knitted his brows, confused at what he meant. “What do you mean?”
“What happened that day, Ace?” He questioned now, looking more serious than before.
“What are you talking about?” Ace asked, getting annoyed now.
“I’m talking about that night, Ace. That same night your father died.” Mr Derick explained.
“Why are you asking me that? The one who should be ask that question is Naomi and not me so why are you asking me? Wait, what do you know, Mr Derick?”
Derick shook his head slowly, giving Ace is puzzled look. “Did you lose your memory?”
_
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?PAULO?
“Hey.” Paulo greeted the woman sitting in front of him.
“Hi. I came here earlier but I was told you weren’t around. Thank goodness I’ve seen you now.” She smiled.
“Yeah.” Paul nod his head. “I was told about the case. But firstly, how are you doing?”
She let out a breath. “I don’t know.” She answered sincerely.
“I understand. Losing a husband isn’t easy.” He said, turning pages in the doc-ument Liam had given him concerning this woman’s case. “Why do you think it’s a murder case and not a suicidal one? I heard he wrote a suicidal note before jumping off the building.” He addressed, looking up at the woman.
She shakes her head, crying now. “He will never kill himself, detective. I know my husband, it isn’t one to give up easily.”
“Hmm.” He hummed. “Was he having any challenges before his death?” He asked.
The woman thought for a while before nodding her head. “He had complained about work. He wasn’t really looking great during those times. Sometimes he would zone out whenever we were having a serious conversation. He was always thinking, he hardly eat… he did changed during those period.”
“And did he ever said anything about dying?”
“No.” She answered.
“Did he change back to his usual self before he died?”
“Yes. It got to a point when he started eating well, talking, laughing. He became his usual self. Two weeks later I found him dead.” She started sobbing uncontrollably.
Paulo let out a sigh. He took out the phone which the police had found on Mr Samson’s desk after he died.
He read throu-ghthe note in the phone, trying his best to processed the words written in it.
“Where you really the one who found him dead?” He asked again.
She was fumbling with the hem of her dress, Paulo observed. He didn’t say anything. He just kept watching her, waiting for her reply.
“Yes.” She nod.
“I will investigate on the matter and get back to you.” He a-ssured her.
“Thank you detective.” She picked up her bag and stood up to her feet. She has already taken two steps towards the door when she heard Paulo’s voice again, stopping her right in her track.
“I will like to interrogate your daughter.”
She quickly turned around, raising a questioning brow at him. “But why?”
“Just want to see her. Hope you don’t mind?”
“I..No. But…she… she’s busy.” She stuttered, looking at everywhere but his face.
*Nervous.* Paulo scribbled he word down on the white paper on his desk, in front of him. His never left her suspicious face. *Scared.* He wrote that down again.
“It won’t take much of her time. Or maybe you can ask her whether or not she wants to come for the Interrogation.” He suggested.
“I will.” She whispered before turning around and walking out.
He looks down at the phone in front of him again, he was tapping his fingers on the surface of he desk.
He picked up his phone and dialled a number. It rung for a while, it was picked after the third ring.
“Doc.”
“Paul, how are you doing?” Doctor Hayes responded. He was the doctor in charge of autopsy.
“I’m doing fine. And you?”
“Great. Why are you calling?”
“Um, I called to ask…are you in the morgue?” He asked.
“Yes. Why?”
“I need a favor.”
_
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_
“You owe me for this.” Doctor Hayes said, taking out the body of Mr Samson.
“Yes, I know.” Paulo chuckled. “What about Bella?”
“It’s lunchtime.” Doctor Hayes reminded him. Bella was his a-ssistant. “Here is the body.”
Paulo quietly observed the body. “Have you commence an autopsy for this body?” He asked after a short while.
“Yes.”
“What was the cause of his death?” He asked.
“The fall.” Doctor Hayes replied. “It affected his head.”
Paul nod his head, staring at Mr Samson’s left hand. “Do you think it’s the fall that broke his nails?”
Doctor Hayes observed it before shaking his head no. “I doubt. A fall can’t break nails, detective Paul. But there is a probability of him scratching something before falling which must have cause it.”
“Scratching something…”
“This man should be a left handed person, obviously.”
“Why do you think that?”
“When falling he must have tried to reach out to something or someone…he used his left hand and that’s why it’s his left index finger nails that’s broken.” Doctor Hayes observed.
_
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_
Paulo sat in his car, reading the note over and over again.
There was something odd about the note.
He got out of the car and walked towards the huge building.
He stared up at the balcony Mr Samson had fallen from.
He stayed there for quite a while before going into the house. Mrs Lara, Mr Samson’s wife wasn’t around but her daughter, Jennifer was.
“What can I do for you?” Jennifer asked as soon as she opened the door.
“I’m here for an investigation. I’m sure your mother must have told you about it.” He explained.
“Oh. You…you are detective Paulo, right?” She stuttered.
He smiled. “Yeah. And you are?”
She clears her throat. “Jennifer. The daughter.” She replied, putting on a brave face.
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?BALLERINA?
“You can’t leave the hospital yet, Mr princess. You need rest and more treatment.” Doctor Charles said.
“I know but I promise to be back in time… i just need to see my aunt’s body. Please.” She pleaded, clasping her hand together to demonstrate begging.
He let out a de-ep sigh. “Fine. But you have to go with the IV.” He said.
“Sure. Heather will a-ssist me on that.”
“Alright then.”
****
“Was I a bad niece?” Ballerina questioned, staring directly at her aunt’s picture, tears kept strolling her eyes. She was broken beyond measure.
Heather shook her head. “You weren’t, my princess.”
“Are you saying that because you are afraid of losing your job?” Ballerina questioned, rolling her eyes.
“Of course not, my princess. I’m rather stating fact here.”
“She hates me.”
“Never. Aunt Claire loves you so much and can do anything for you. You were more like a daughter to her.”
“I said mean words to her. I cursed her.” She cried.
“I doubt Aunt Claire hates you for any of the words you might have said to her.”
Ballerina walked closer to her aunt’s picture that was hung above Claire’s coffin. She trailed her fingertip across the picture, sobbing more louder now.
“I’m sorry, aunt.” She kept saying while crying. “I promise to investigate this matter and bring justice to you, mom and dad. I promise to find the murderer and make them pay dearly for this. I swear!” She cried.
“Stop crying, my princess.” Heather pleaded, crying as well.
Ballerina didn’t answer her.
After a while of crying and promising, they both left the mortuary and walked into the car.
“Are you okay my princess?” Heather asked.
“That’s a dumb question to ask, Heather.” Ballerina muttered under her breath staring out at the window.
“I’m sorry my princess.”
-Silence.
-Silence.
-Silence.
“Do you know where I dropped that detective’s card?” She asked Heather after a while of silence.
“Yes, my princess. But why are you asking?”
Ballerina wiped off her tears. *Of anything happens to me during the coronation, don’t relent or feel hopeless. Don’t see yourself as a curse princess, rather see yourself as someone strong.*
Ballerina started smiling, surprising Heather in the process.
Heather stared at her closely. “Are you okay, my princess?” She asked, concerned were evident in her voice.
*Be happy…* Those were her aunt’s words to her.
*Do you know the strongest weapon to fight against an enemy?* Her mother had asked her that question while she was still a kid.
*Sword.* She replied.
Her mother laughed. *Sure. It’s a sword. But that wasn’t the answer I needed.*
*Then what is.*
*Your smile.*
*My smile?* Little Ballerina questioned.
*Yes. Every human smile is their weapon because that way, the enemy wouldn’t be able to detect their move.*
“I’ve found a way.” She said, still smiling. “But I will need that detective’s help.”
*
*
*
#To Be Continued…