-SPD (Silvan's havan city police department)
"So according to your knowledge he's shifting?" Lieutenant Arjun takes the seat at his desk. Ali and I were already in Lieutenant's office, waiting for him to arrive.
"Affirmative" I say.
"Did you discover why?"
"It has to do something with Sam."
"How?"
"That information isn't properly collected yet."
"I'll talk with our authorities to give you permit and cost of renting an apartment, near his."
"That's what you've thought?" I blink shockingly. He isn't serious.
"Yes, We will conduct surveillance on the target, monitoring their movements and activities, and you'll record anytime you are both having a conversation."
Great, I had to tolerant his sob stories like that wasn't a headache, now I'll even have to live near him.
"The closer you are to the suspect, the more knowledge you gain about him, his past, and his future mottos." Lieutenant Arjun states.
"Is living next to him, really necessary?" Ali interrupts us.
"Yes, Ali. Our operative must establish proximity to the target in order to elicit a confession. Once he acknowledges his involvement and implicates Faisal, we'll have sufficient evidence to apprehend and detain them. We will have them where we want them to be." He places his statement. It's the right thing to do so why do I feel guilty?
"Thus that being said we have given you the parsona of a Dentist, along with being his neighbour, Dectective Faiza. To futher blend in with them, including all three of them."
"Yes sir" I say.
"I'll get the authorities know, we will arrange the apartment for you, and inform you, when its done."
The door behind us opens, the Commissioner walks through and we both stand straight right away. I'm pretty sure he's here for details. He's a rude, strict man, far alike from our lieutenant. Arjun is a gentle man, he works causally with patience, whereas Commissioner Vuran, he's ruthless, he wants what he orders in seconds, as if that can be practical.
"Sir." I say.
"Agent Faiza, I want comprehensive debriefing regarding yesterday's encounter with the suspect." He stands infront of me, crossing his arms.
"Yes sir."
For more than an hour or so, I gave all the details, tiniest bit, everything. He said he'd keep checking up from time to time for the next four months. While all being said I can surely tell that, Oh my God I hate that man.
. . .
The apartment has been arranged, the team sent me here to provoke Ifan before actually shifting. I take the elevator up. His room is 032, mine they fixed 031. The operation has nearly started, and I'm already so pressed at everyone.
Elevator door slide opens, making a ding sound.
It's a corridor, almost ten steps away our apartments begin. I walk, my heels are making a soothing sound.
Boxes are laying everywhere infront of his apartment door, and the door is wide open.
"Sam, Are you here?" He yells from inside, and his voice hit me like a gun. I guess by the sound of my footsteps he thought Sam had arrived. I wonder if he'll also show up.
My feet clashes one of the box over. "Pardon me."
He comes outside. "Faiza?" He tilts his head side ways to see if he's dreaming.
"Ifan!?" I act surprised.
"You? Here?" He looks like he has seen a ghost. "Oh God! What a coincidence." I say. Yeah what a preplanned coincidence.
"What are you doing here?"
"I just rented an apartment here!"
"Wait- Here?" He's stunned. "When are you thinking of shifting?" He rubs his elbow.
Nervous?
"I'll see, maybe tomorrow."
"Oh that's good, I can help."
Why would he? He barely knows me.
"No I wouldn't want to burden you." I say. "You have all this unpacking to do, I can't ask you that." My spirit animal is officially a dramatic cat.
"It'll be my pleasure, please let me" He gives me a warm smile, as if he knows me. "Then it'll only be fair if I help you unbox some of these." Look at me- finding any reason possible to get close to him.
"If you insist." It's unique how his smile is contagious, how can someone have such warmth in their eyes when they speak?
"I thought Sam's here" his eyes switching between boxes.
"No, your brother's not here, only me" I chuckle. Tell me who Sam is.
"Understood" He smiles.
"He is your brother, no?" I ask, because he's not telling me himself.
"So we're back with the assumptions already" He chuckles under his breath, looking at me. I nervously laugh.
"Grab that one, it's lighter." He says. He didn't answer, so he's smart when it comes to his family.
"Now you're just underestimating me." I cross my arms. "Okay, then grab whatever you find easy." He's so easly compelled. Or extremely manipulative.
I grab a box by its handles, one quite big, because I am a fully trained officer—
And—I'm fully an idiot as well.
But what am I doing?
I'm grabbing a loaded box in front of the guy who I'm supposed to fool-
He can't know I have such strength.
But I'm already in middle of pulling it up. Ugh-
I act to not be able to carry it all the way up.
"I still won't underestimate you." He throws his hands up in the air, as if he's held at gun point. He's being sarcastic? Isn't he?
"Haha, now help me out."
Says the one who can pull it up easily, It's not even heavy. He walks closer and leans in besides me, his scent spreads all over me- lavender.
He carries it up and walks inside. "I won't say I told you so." His voice echos from inside.
I can carry him with my single hand.
But I have to be patient. I carry a small one and head inside as well. "Where should I put this?"
"Just here" He sits down for a water break. Looks like he's been doing this for a while now. "Sorry for the mess." He said. There's paint, a sheet underneath a canvas which is splashed with paint stains everywhere. He actually started painting? Or he always did, never stopped doing it, only pretended to put a fake sob story infront me to gain sympathy, classic thug behaviour. It's a pity this guy doesn't know I don't give free empathy to anyone, especially him.
"Faiza, there's my bottle behind you, can you please get me that?"
I move to it, it's a water flask, half drained. And it has— my heart skipped a beat. It has spongebob stickers on it.
A thug who likes cartoon? But then again he is in his mid twenties, more a like a child to me.
"You like spongebob?" I ask, passing him his bottle.
"Yeah—I.. uhm.. yes."
He's embarrassed? He drinks from his bottle, basically gulping all that is left, waterdrop drips down his neck, under his shirt and collar. He's sweating and so am I. How thirsty is that man?
"If you want some, I have a few drinks in the freezer." He stands back up.
"I'm good."
"You sure? You don't look so good."
"What?" I wipe my face with my hand. I'm burning hot. Its october why is it still hot in here—
He turns on the air conditioner placed near his TV stand. "It's October why is it yet hot in here." He says,
it's like he read my mind or something.
"I know right."
"You're being stubborn, otherwise I had something for you." He walks to his freezer, and takes out a can. "When am I being hard?" I frown. "Here, its cherry." He hands me a can of cherry sparkling water.
"How did you—" Knew I like cherries.
"How did I what?" He raises his eye brow in skepticism. "Nevermind." I say.
"How did I know you liked cherry?" He completes my question, I look up at him.
"Well, let's see. You have cherry cola hair- you're smart, you have that tendency of being righteous, and when I first saw you I noticed a hint of cherry red tint beneath those exquisite freckles- So of course I assumed you like cherries."
I'm stunned. He got all of that within a four hour conversation with me?
Who does he thinks he is? My freckles are barely visible- no one has ever pointed them out..
"Wow You're so wrong." I laugh.
"At least now I know that much about you."
"I beg your pardon?"
"I now know my previous assumptions about you were wrong- which means, more space for me to think more about you ma'am."
What a forward young man he is-
"Even if you assumed I like cherries, what was it doing in your freezer? Did you assumed I'd be moving in, too?" Come to think of it, what if he's two steps ahead of me?
"I was thinking of you when I bought those." He chuckles softly. "I didn't think me remembering you would manifest you here."
He was remembering me?
"Why?" I ask.
"Has anyone ever told you, you talk too much Faiza?" He squints his eyes sarcasticly. He did not just say that- I'm the one who talks nonstop? He talks like a dying person telling their will. He's the one to say that to me.
"I'm offended." I sarcasticly gasp.
"I beg to differ ma'am." He sits infront of me. "You're not offended, you're surprised someone noticed that."
He's definitely playing mind games with me, poor him doesn't know who he has infront of him. A cop.
"You're surprised somone said it to your face- your eyes show that people often keep things from you inorder to play safe."
"Has anyone ever told you that you're too straight forward?"
"Plenty of times." He says. "But I don't take it as offence because it's true. You shouldn't as well."
"Well following a man's way, just isn't my style. But come to think of it, you play it safe, too—When it comes to your family."
"Why would you say that?" He scoffs in confusion. Did I got him in the gut? I've only met with his family once or twice, but I wanted him to speak about Sam, our prime suspect, these questions can get him to talk about his career.
"I noticed you were a little awkward when I met with everyone at the brunch..and—uhm after that crazy lady left." I chuckle.
"Yeah, that was embarrassing" he's fake scoffing.
"I'm only saying that because you didn't quite seemed like the man I met in the convenient store that day." My voice stayed calm.
"No, its not that." He's fidgeting with his fingers.
He stayed quiet.
"Too forward?" I ask.
"No, you're right. Things sometimes get complicated, it's okay." He sighs, lifting his face up to me. "I do that, I do play safe. Not because we have our differences, but because I respect them for everything they've done for me." He forced a smile.
"Complications like these can happen between brothers" I smile back.
"He's.. not my brother."
"Oh?"
"We're friends."
"You guys don't seem like friends."
"That's because it's been a long time."
"How long have you two been friends?" I ask.
"For as long as I can remember."
"It must feel good to have someone through thick and thin" I finally drink my sparkling water. He sighs a deep breath.
"He's still the Sam he was fiveteen years ago. I just think I grew up to be ungrateful." He tried making his clenched hand unnoticeable. "Well I think there's always two sides to a story, neighbour" I say, soon realising that was the most cringe thing I've ever said, or called someone in this case.
Despite everything. He does have a charm- fraud charm but it still counts as charm.
"Neighbour?" He laughs, his gaze narrowed. I know he's cringing because I am too. But he finds it funny.
"Yes, I think it can be debatable." I repeat, because I need my answers, that's all I'm here to do.
"How would you know, you've only known me for two days." He inhales a sharp breath.
"Though one thing to another, how did the conversation turn back on me?" He laughs. Because you're the suspect, not me.
"I don't know." I laugh, sometimes I cringe myself to death, I can't keep acting like this, It's awful. His fake stories, the awful work he has done behind his rubbish face and his stupidly large grin, the things he may have took part in which led to my brother's accident. Its all irritating me, every ounce of my body can feel my muscles rejecting his fraud, idiotic smile, I hate it when people act like someone who they aren't, this is one of those cases and I'd love to pull that mask off of his face. Once I do that I'd be more than glad to handcuff him in no time, that'll erase the stupid grin off of his face. Only imagining that pleases me, but patience is the key. It's only been two days, it will take months for him to trust me and I'll have to bear talking with him.
"Okay so now that our conversation has already drifted towards you, may I ask another question?" I ask, the sooner I get close, the closer I am of getting out of here.
"Depends, what type of question?"
"In general."
"To know me?"
"That, too."
"Shoot your shot." He says.
Weird hearing these words coming out of a thug's mouth.
"If you could have anything in the world, what would you choose to have?" I ask.
"Time." He tilts his head back, his eyes on me. That took him a second to answer.
"The power to create, spare or skip time." He finishes.
"Why?" My voice barely above a whisper.
"To skip right through the sufferings and to be able to pause movements like these." He smacks his lips, inhaling back a breath. "Where I'm sitting in a two room apartment, half furnished, too messy, incomplete, with someone I barely know, but to yet feel at home for once, at peace." His pupils grew tender.
"That is- something to consider beautiful." I'm speechless. I never thought I'd have this kind of sit to sit with a criminal, a thug, a drug dealer and who knows what more he must've done.
I have to keep reminding myself these things in order to not become a fool, the type of fool he's trying so hard for me to be.
I won't let him. He may have a charm but I'm certainly not stupid.
I'm so annoyed at how he feel things. He doesn't deserve that.
He deserves to be behind bars. In lockup.
"That is beautiful." He says. Well guess what? so is he.
But not every beautiful thing is considered a good thing.
I have a living example of it, right before my eyes. Which is why my faith in beauty is slowly dying within this case.
It's illegal to be a criminal.
It's even more illegal to be this charming.
Talk about false reality,
He's proof of it.
The more charm he shows, the more I can surely assume he may just be ruthless and soulless inside.
And I hate him for it.