Murder, They Tweeted #5
Nov. 30th, 2018 07:01 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsUncle Felix provides an intriguing twist to the case.
The day had been a goddamn roller coaster. The low of being surrounded by Quires, the high of a brief refuge with Raph, the stomach-churning drop of Trevor's murder, the rise of some possible evidence to clear Raph's name. And now another drop, as comparison of the fingerprints lifted from the skillet to Raph's revealed a partial match. Nothing remotely conclusive, but the first tangible evidence that Raph could in fact be the culprit. Quentin had nearly lost his lunch when he saw.
Quentin and Hank returned to their makeshift crime lab in shame, considering where to go next, when Quentin, lost in thought, bumped into someone coming the opposite direction.
"Hey, watch where you . . . Oh, it's you." Quentin held back a sneer. Or at least tried to. He was not doing so well in the self-control department right now.
Gone was the self-confidence displayed in the tasting room. Not expecting to bump into anyone, Felix had let his guard down enough that when he caught Quentin's look, the softness in his eyes hardened. "Yeah, me. The one who is managing to keep everything together, thank you very much." Within seconds, the fake sincerity returned and Felix hooked his fingers loosely on his belt loops. "Course, you boys have been helping too, so that's to be appreciated." The older man lifted a slightly shaky hand and brushed back his hair. With a slight awkward chuckle, he shrugged. "Sorry, I'm all over the place. Guess I was more affected by all this than I thought. I mean, Trevor and Raph....." He trailed off, looking away, his thoughts racing.
Reading people wasn't exactly Hank's strong suit, yet even he could tell that Felix wasn't doing all that well at holding things together. Rather than let Quentin's ire needle the older man into dismissing them altogether he jumped in with what he hoped was a helpful interjection. "You seemed close. To Trevor, I mean, not just Raph. It must be very difficult for you, being in this position. You've every right to be upset."
"Thank you, son," Felix said, his eyes welling up a little. It was as if he simply needed permission before he could let himself show any emotion. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a handkerchief and blew his nose loudly. "It's just that Trevor ...well, he was more than simply Raph's friend. I kinda thought of him as a nephew too. Always running around, those two." He wiped his nose again and replaced the handkerchief, his hands now in his pants pocket. "You know, I can still remember it like it was yesterday, their first football game." Felix chuckled at the memory. "They were probably 5 or 6, and just tackling each other....and then they both decided to head butt at the same time. Lord. Thought they'd both have concussions after that, but nope. Fast friends. And smart ones too, you know?" Now that Felix had a listening ear, he couldn't stop talking. "Trevor had this idea for an app, you see, and it was all about evaluating accuracy of Internet news sites. Now, I don't understand all the tech and science behind it, but I know a good idea when I hear one. This one had it all, everything you millennials needs. Was ready to invest a lot of money into it too....." He trailed off, tears starting to slowly stream down his face again. "Sorry boys. I think I need a minute." With a hand raised, Felix left the room.
Quentin was ready to argue about his status of a millennial (how dare Felix, he was not that old!), but the comment about money, almost lost in Felix's tears, perked Quentin's ears right up. He gestured to Hank to follow. "What's this about an app?" he asked, following Felix into the men's room where he was wiping his face. "No one's mentioned it yet. Didn't take him for a tech type."
Felix glared at Quentin. "Didn't your parents teach you any manners?" A strange anger crossed his face before mellowing down again, leaving Felix to look sad and old again. "And I don't know, I didn't get into it too much. He talked about how it was easy to build an algorithm, talked to me about how he had it all figured out, just needed money. The return was going to be amazing... " He was lost in thought for a moment before shrugging. "Guess that's another thing about you young folk -- don't matter what your elders say, you're going to do what you like," he added, providing no further context.
Throwing his paper towel in the garbage, he glared at them. "Now can this old man take a shit in peace, or you going to follow me in there too?"
That was probably the quickest way to make a bad day turn even worse, so Quentin acquiesced and exited the rest room, leaning against the wall when Hank followed. "And now money's put into the mix. It's always got to be money."
"It certainly doesn't help un-muddy the waters," Hank agreed. "I suppose that means we have more questions to ask."
"It might mean there's a paper trail. At least it's an easier motive to investigate than 'he's a fucking jackass and I just had to kill him.'" It did put things into perspective, though, all jokes aside. Money was a powerful motivator for all sorts of depravity. "Who'd kill over an app, though? A co-creator who wants all the credit and profit? Angry investor? Someone who'd be harmed by its purpose?"
"All that and more. There may not be much out there, if it hadn't launched yet, but I can do some searching online and see what connections there might be between Trevor and any other guests involved in the tech scene. You'll be better at questioning people face-to-face," Hank said. "With any luck he wasn't overly secretive about his business dealings."
Splitting the work that way made sense to Quentin. He would go back to the other groomsmen first, he figured, as they would likely know the most about their friend's business venture. "I'll text you when I find something. Good luck getting the wifi here to work."
The day had been a goddamn roller coaster. The low of being surrounded by Quires, the high of a brief refuge with Raph, the stomach-churning drop of Trevor's murder, the rise of some possible evidence to clear Raph's name. And now another drop, as comparison of the fingerprints lifted from the skillet to Raph's revealed a partial match. Nothing remotely conclusive, but the first tangible evidence that Raph could in fact be the culprit. Quentin had nearly lost his lunch when he saw.
Quentin and Hank returned to their makeshift crime lab in shame, considering where to go next, when Quentin, lost in thought, bumped into someone coming the opposite direction.
"Hey, watch where you . . . Oh, it's you." Quentin held back a sneer. Or at least tried to. He was not doing so well in the self-control department right now.
Gone was the self-confidence displayed in the tasting room. Not expecting to bump into anyone, Felix had let his guard down enough that when he caught Quentin's look, the softness in his eyes hardened. "Yeah, me. The one who is managing to keep everything together, thank you very much." Within seconds, the fake sincerity returned and Felix hooked his fingers loosely on his belt loops. "Course, you boys have been helping too, so that's to be appreciated." The older man lifted a slightly shaky hand and brushed back his hair. With a slight awkward chuckle, he shrugged. "Sorry, I'm all over the place. Guess I was more affected by all this than I thought. I mean, Trevor and Raph....." He trailed off, looking away, his thoughts racing.
Reading people wasn't exactly Hank's strong suit, yet even he could tell that Felix wasn't doing all that well at holding things together. Rather than let Quentin's ire needle the older man into dismissing them altogether he jumped in with what he hoped was a helpful interjection. "You seemed close. To Trevor, I mean, not just Raph. It must be very difficult for you, being in this position. You've every right to be upset."
"Thank you, son," Felix said, his eyes welling up a little. It was as if he simply needed permission before he could let himself show any emotion. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a handkerchief and blew his nose loudly. "It's just that Trevor ...well, he was more than simply Raph's friend. I kinda thought of him as a nephew too. Always running around, those two." He wiped his nose again and replaced the handkerchief, his hands now in his pants pocket. "You know, I can still remember it like it was yesterday, their first football game." Felix chuckled at the memory. "They were probably 5 or 6, and just tackling each other....and then they both decided to head butt at the same time. Lord. Thought they'd both have concussions after that, but nope. Fast friends. And smart ones too, you know?" Now that Felix had a listening ear, he couldn't stop talking. "Trevor had this idea for an app, you see, and it was all about evaluating accuracy of Internet news sites. Now, I don't understand all the tech and science behind it, but I know a good idea when I hear one. This one had it all, everything you millennials needs. Was ready to invest a lot of money into it too....." He trailed off, tears starting to slowly stream down his face again. "Sorry boys. I think I need a minute." With a hand raised, Felix left the room.
Quentin was ready to argue about his status of a millennial (how dare Felix, he was not that old!), but the comment about money, almost lost in Felix's tears, perked Quentin's ears right up. He gestured to Hank to follow. "What's this about an app?" he asked, following Felix into the men's room where he was wiping his face. "No one's mentioned it yet. Didn't take him for a tech type."
Felix glared at Quentin. "Didn't your parents teach you any manners?" A strange anger crossed his face before mellowing down again, leaving Felix to look sad and old again. "And I don't know, I didn't get into it too much. He talked about how it was easy to build an algorithm, talked to me about how he had it all figured out, just needed money. The return was going to be amazing... " He was lost in thought for a moment before shrugging. "Guess that's another thing about you young folk -- don't matter what your elders say, you're going to do what you like," he added, providing no further context.
Throwing his paper towel in the garbage, he glared at them. "Now can this old man take a shit in peace, or you going to follow me in there too?"
That was probably the quickest way to make a bad day turn even worse, so Quentin acquiesced and exited the rest room, leaning against the wall when Hank followed. "And now money's put into the mix. It's always got to be money."
"It certainly doesn't help un-muddy the waters," Hank agreed. "I suppose that means we have more questions to ask."
"It might mean there's a paper trail. At least it's an easier motive to investigate than 'he's a fucking jackass and I just had to kill him.'" It did put things into perspective, though, all jokes aside. Money was a powerful motivator for all sorts of depravity. "Who'd kill over an app, though? A co-creator who wants all the credit and profit? Angry investor? Someone who'd be harmed by its purpose?"
"All that and more. There may not be much out there, if it hadn't launched yet, but I can do some searching online and see what connections there might be between Trevor and any other guests involved in the tech scene. You'll be better at questioning people face-to-face," Hank said. "With any luck he wasn't overly secretive about his business dealings."
Splitting the work that way made sense to Quentin. He would go back to the other groomsmen first, he figured, as they would likely know the most about their friend's business venture. "I'll text you when I find something. Good luck getting the wifi here to work."
