Autopsy Of A Mind

"When did you decide you would come to the show?" There was no hesitation as I answered. 

"This morning. Mr. Butler wanted to come to a show to see how magicians perform. He asked me to get tickets, therefore I booked the one that seemed to have a reasonable price."

"Okay. Where did you buy the tickets?"

"I bought them secondhand from an online seller, bidding for two." He looked at me with a thoughtful expression.

"Why didn"t you go the normal way? You could have bought the tickets from the official event website."

"Today"s was the closest show and everything including this was sold out. I went on the other website and brought the ones I won." There was something in his eyes that I noted. A thought that pa.s.sed through his eyes. I followed his movements carefully and realized that the questioning could go two ways. He was looking for a pattern in something and I had either broken it or reinforced it.

I also knew that he wouldn"t tell me. At least right now. 

"If I showed you the CCTV, would you be able to discern who the suspect is?" I looked at him with worried eyes. 

"You looked through the footage and couldn"t find him?" I was sure that was the case. I thought for a bit. "It depends on what he was doing. I can tell you the feeling he gave off, but nothing concrete that can highlight him in a video, especially if he left with a lot of people during the chaos."

"How would you define him?"

"I saw him from very far, but his voice was m.u.f.fled by the mask he was wearing. But I could discern that he had a low voice... " I paused. "Now that I think about it, it sounded like he was trying to change his voice so that no one could hear his real voice, but if I were to guess, it is very difficult to continue doing an accent for a very long time." 

"What do you mean?" Detective Nash asked. 

"Changing your voice for a long amount of time is quite difficult, but with the added help of the mask and the microphone taking away from his real voice, I would bet that it would be difficult to pinpoint him even if I spoke to him. But the accent is something that is distinct. It"s hard for someone to fake that, even if they are a trained actor. It takes years of continued practice to replicate an authentic accent, really."

"Wouldn"t you say that our accent changes when we are around people or stay in a place for a time?" I nodded. 

"That is the case, but when a person is excited and doing something taboo, they usually have stunted inhibitions when it comes to language. Moreover, language or the words they use to frame sentences can say a lot about their position and their upbringing or personality."

I could see Detective Nash look past me and stare at Sebastian. 

"Don"t look at me. She may be my a.s.sistant, but he got her Master"s degree in language studies. She is the boss when it comes to that. You can trust her." From his voice, I would hear inhibited pride. I wanted to scoff. Of course, he had to show off and pat himself on the back for getting someone competent, but this was my talent, not his to write off. 

"You probably have a profiler who specializes in language at your department, if you get your hands on a recording of the show."

Detective Nash rubbed his chin and then looked at me with curiosity. "I"m pretty sure I will have to sign the papers and get Sebastian on the case, I would lose to have you on too." He smiled. 

Stunned, I looked at him. "Thank you," I found myself saying.

"Of course, she is going to be there. We come as a package deal." 

We followed the police officers to the station. I had been there too often, I realized. Most people had little to no contact with the police and there was a fear of them in society. Yes, it was unfortunate, but systemic violence does that to society. 

The process was fast and we were sitting in a room with other people in no time. 

Unsurprisingly, most of the officers were men and I was the only one in pretty clothes, a skirt, and a blouse and a nice bag to go with it. 

There were a lot of things that needed to be thought through.

"I"ll be the one to give you the bad news. The victim pa.s.sed away in the hospital. They went into cardiac arrest even though the doctors did everything in their power to save him." I looked around the room. The people surrounding me were professionals used to hearing about deaths. They were desensitized to it, or maybe they weren"t. But I wonder if they thought the same thing as me. 

When the victim is dead, you just know that there is less chance of understanding what exactly happened. You only find out one part of the story if you catch the criminal. 

The scene was set up and the officers were briefed. 

I turned to Sebastian and asked him under my breath, "Do you think we can see the CCTV footage and ask the people at the show to hand over any videos or photos they have?" Sebastian turned and looked at me and nodded. 

"You ask." My lips thinned. "You gotta speak up. When you are in this room, you need to ask questions. No question is stupid because it could give us a clue or direct us to another avenue and help solve the case. Ask your question and a.s.sert your thoughts. It is the only way you are going to grow. No other way to evolve." He shrugged. I sighed and pushed my hand up.