Johnny Terenkin leaned back in the worn wooden chair, his dark, smoky eyes locked onto Adrian Belinsky's, and a sly smile playing on his lips. He retrieved a cigarette from his inner jacket pocket, extended it towards Adrian, and, with a flourish, ignited it before lighting his own.
"So, Detective Belinsky," Johnny began, exhaling a plume of bluish smoke that curled toward the cracked ceiling, "I heard you've been hunting for me." He gestured with his free hand as if to embrace the shabby room they occupied. "Here I am. But the real question is, how did you end up here?"
Adrian accepted the cigarette, the ghost of disbelief still dancing in his eyes. He inhaled deeply, allowing the familiar embrace of nicotine to calm his frayed nerves. "I didn't choose this rendezvous location, if that's what you're getting at."
Johnny grinned, his golden tooth glinting like a tiny treasure. "Perhaps not, but circumstances seem to suggest otherwise." Rising from his seat, he paced deliberately, trailing smoke in his wake.
"Coincidences happen," Adrian replied with a casual shrug, wincing slightly as his gauzed arm protested the movement.
Johnny halted, fixing Adrian with an unwavering gaze. "I hope you can appreciate the situation from my point of view, Adrian. You've been on my trail. You earned the trust of one of my comrades, and voila," he exclaimed with mock theatricality, "you find yourself here, after a meticulously staged confrontation with the Royal Department's enforcers. Your grand performance, heroically protecting Artemia, left Red and Tima with no choice but to bring you into our fold."
Adrian couldn't help but smirk. "You're giving the Police Department way too much credit, Terenkin."
Johnny's amusement faded. "We do what's necessary to shield our comrades and bring down the corrupt government, hand in hand with the Emperor and his kin."
Adrian extinguished his cigarette with a flick of his fingers. "Thursday was quite the spectacle. How many lives were sacrificed for it?"
Johnny spoke thoughtfully, his voice tinged with sadness. "Hundreds, if not more. But you've got it wrong, Adrian. Our aim wasn't to topple the government, though it did seem tantalizingly close. The protest was our response to the murder of Lady Juliana Zorkin, a woman I knew personally."
Adrian's skepticism surfaced. "It's a bit disingenuous to rally the masses without telling them the real reason they're out there. Most, I'm sure, thought they were fighting for better conditions in the Northern factories, not seeking revenge for a wealthy woman's death."
Johnny's grin widened, and he closed the distance between them. Adrian felt the warmth of Johnny's breath as he whispered into his ear, "Perhaps you're right. Maybe we overestimated the power of the Police Department." He paused, his eyes locking onto Adrian's. "But you're making a grave error, my friend, underestimating the Royal Department."
Adrian shifted his gaze upward, meeting Johnny's intense stare from his bed. The air in the room had grown thick with tension, like the charge in the air before a thunderstorm.
"How so?" Adrian inquired, raising an eyebrow.
Johnny, taking a drag of his cigarette, continued, "The Royal Department is a ruthless organization, answering directly to a shadow government that serves the Crown. They're like well-trained guard dogs, ready to bite anyone the owner commands."
Adrian couldn't help but scoff at the notion. "You believe they murdered Lady Zorkin?"
Johnny's eyes bore into Adrian's, unyielding. "We don't believe, detective, we know." He lit another cigarette, his voice laced with conviction. "The Royal Department understood that Lady Zorkin had significant ties to the League and had to eliminate her while framing the League for her murder."
Adrian's thoughts raced, connecting the dots between Lady Zorkin's murder and the letters Julian had discovered in the Zorkin estate. "What about Alina?"
Johnny's expression grew colder, his eyes narrowing. "What about her?"
Adrian pressed on, staring into Johnny's eyes for any signs of deception. "I was investigating the murder of Alina Kopsky before news of Lady Zorkin's murder surfaced. You were the primary lead, named as a potential suspect."
A sardonic grin crept across Johnny's face, his head giving a faint shake. "And why did you think I was a potential suspect?"
"Tyler Kopsky," Adrian replied, wanting to elaborate, but Johnny cut him off.
"Tyler Kopsky cares about no one but himself!" Johnny's voice rose, his anger palpable. "He always loathed me, and the feeling was mutual."
Adrian observed Johnny's reaction carefully before continuing, "Then why avoid assisting the investigation?"
Johnny's laughter, though brief, was tinged with bitterness. He then shifted abruptly, his demeanor turning grave and melancholic. "It was too late, detective. Alina was my life—my reason for everything. She was ready to join the cause, prepared for initiation, but..." His voice quivered with pain as he trailed off. In a sudden, heart-wrenching motion, he sat down and buried his face in his trembling hands. "It was my fault," he cried out, anguish tearing through his words. "I told her to wait just a few more days until I could settle my debt with Cliffnails." He pounded his leg in frustration, his emotions laid bare. Rising slowly, he loomed over Adrian, his grip on the detective's shirt collar a mix of desperation and regret. "But it was too late, detective. They got her."
"Who did?" Adrian asked cautiously, avoiding any sudden movements that might further agitate Johnny's already fragile state.
"They did," Johnny replied, releasing Adrian's collar. "The Royal Department, acting under the command of that shadowy group, or whatever they are." He paced, his fingers nervously fiddling with a lighter. "And Tyler Kopsky is undoubtedly part of it."
Adrian struggled to reconcile Johnny's accusations with his prior encounter with Tyler Kopsky in his own home. "You're suggesting that Tyler Kopsky killed his own daughter? That's a hard pill to swallow. Do you have any proof?"
Johnny spoke softly, his gaze fixed on the ceiling from which the incessant drips fell. "A few days before her murder, Alina confided in me about an argument she had with her father. She told him she wanted to leave medical school to help those less fortunate in the slums, to join the Alderian League." He toyed with the lighter as he walked back and forth. "The conversation turned into a political dispute rather than a typical father-daughter argument." Johnny paused, his voice heavy with emotion. "For Tyler, having a child associated with the A.L.L. would have been a career-ending scandal. He did what was necessary to protect himself, even if it meant killing his own daughter."
Adrian couldn't help but draw a damning conclusion. "And he framed you for her murder."
Johnny nodded, his eyes shadowed with pain and anger. "Precisely."
Johnny drew nearer to Adrian, his presence almost suffocating. "Now that I've answered your questions, detective, answer mine. Are you still working for the department?"
Adrian's gaze drifted to his bandaged arm as he considered his response. "I don't. Not anymore," he began, his voice heavy with the weight of betrayal. "I was betrayed and thrown out like a used whiskey bottle, left to shatter on the pavement into a thousand pieces with no second thought." Sorrow crept into Adrian's voice as he continued, "My world turned upside down that day. Everyone I worked with, people I put my trust in, evaporated and came back as someone I couldn't recognize or know. If not for Artemia, I don't think I would be talking to you right now."
Johnny nodded, absorbing Adrian's words. "Hate to break it to you, but on that day when you strolled up to Artemia's bar in the Eastern Slums, she told me that a cop had come snooping about, asking questions. I told her to pursue you, and since that day, we've been digging for information on you, just as you were digging for me."
Adrian managed a sorrowful smile. "You outdid me," he admitted before a wave of self-pity washed over him. "I'm really not a good detective anymore. I can't even read people like I used to," he whispered, the words carrying the weight of his disillusionment.
"Perhaps we outdid you," Johnny said with a shrug, "but maybe you're in the game for the long run and have some cards up your sleeve." He scratched his chin in thought. "Artemia says she fully trusts you now, but I'm not so sure. I'll bring it up in our council, and we'll decide collectively regarding your future."
Adrian's gaze held a hint of desperation as he made one final request. "Can I speak with her?"
"I don't see the reason, Mr. Belinsky," Johnny responded, his tone final.
Adrian had one more question burning in his mind. "Why is it Johan and not Johnny?"
Johnny paused, his silence stretching for a few moments before he replied, "The old Johnny is dead. It's Comrade Johan now." With that, he shut the door behind him and locked it, leaving Adrian alone in the dimly lit room, his thoughts swirling like the raindrops on the windowpane.109Please respect copyright.PENANA6ex6mY5En9
109Please respect copyright.PENANAfmrElSiHnQ