Book 3: Chapter 20 - Performative Integrity

A “suspect” isn’t, like, the person the evidence leads to. 
It’s honestly just the least powerful person connected to any given crime.
You know?
—Kassie Lockwood

Lyle was furious.

He rested his head against the window of the train, closed his eyes, and let himself get lost in thought for the duration of the trip.

He'd been pushing for months to have access to Chromatic Academy. He'd argued with Detective Knight. He'd had a girl's corpse exhumed. He'd tried to pressure Bouvier, and he'd encouraged public protests. He needed his investigation on campus, and he was willing to do nearly anything to get it.

He knew he would eventually. There was a killer hunting innocent people and using the school for cover. The academy only had as much leverage as it did because it made people feel safe. And that leverage slipped more every day. Yet it still felt frustratingly far away.

He'd already been close, but there was always another obstacle. 

At least, until there wasn't.

He hadn't made any major moves himself. Not the day he finally got the news he'd been waiting for. He woke up, and John had called tell him what had happened. The police were finally going to have full, unrestricted access to Chromatic Academy. And Lyle was included in that. The chief of police had gotten off his ass and forced the issue. And even Abel Bouvier couldn't deny an angry Category Violet. 

Lyle was getting exactly what he'd wanted. Everything he'd been fighting for and more. And he was absolutely livid about it.

Because his efforts with the Garnet family had helped, but they hadn't been enough. Public pressure made a difference, but it hadn't been the deciding factor.

Instead, a cop had been killed. In the cyan district, of all places. The circumstances had been… suspect. An officer had been arrested for murdering his partner. But they'd been investigating a tip on the Cruel Ivy Killer together. And Lyle's talent didn't lie. These deaths were undeniably related. Considering the shooter claimed his partner was the serial killer in question, that alone wasn’t particularly surprising. Reading through the two officers’ files, it was always possible the shooter had created the story as an excuse to heal past wounds to his pride. It would be petty, but not impossible. Especially with the Prism City police. 

But that didn’t line up with Lyle’s threads. The new corpse was tied to the Cruel Ivy victims. It was always possible the shooter was right, of course. It would be a bit... anti-climactic, but Lyle still wished he could believe that.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t an idiot. The story made no sense without intent from a third party. Two students from Chromatic had been involved, for one. A boy who’d drawn the officers out, and a girl who instigated the attack. Reading through the shooter’s summary of events, something was obviously wrong with the entire scene. There were other witnesses, but none with enough information. Just those who’d heard the gunshots or saw the girl fleeing the scene. They weren’t useless, of course. But they inspired more questions than they answered.

The boy who’d sent the officers had covered his face, and the girl at the motel had done the same. That was a difficult detail to ignore. Although, the bright hair peeking out from under the girl’s hat would likely make her just as easy to identify as her face. At least, if the shooter hadn’t been the only one to see it. It was a significant detail, but not a reliable one. Nothing the officer had put in his report was completely reliable, in fact. 

Because... with this sequence of events? Lyle could only think of one reasonable explanation. And an officer pulling a gun out and shooting his boss the instant an accusation was made? That didn’t fit. No. The only thing that really fell into place was simple. Especially if Bouvier had been honest. Lyle didn’t have perfect lie detection as a talent or anything, but he did have a good eye for dishonesty. And those words, more than anything, had felt earnest. Bouvier seemed to believe every word.

If the killer was violet, then there were a few options for the way targets were being chosen. This murder fit into one of them better than others. Everyone in Category Violet had some way to sneak into the lower districts. It wasn’t even difficult for them. There wasn’t much question as to how a violet might hunt in other districts. But there was a question as to why they’d stayed in green and below up until this point. 

The most likely explanation, however? The killer wasn’t actually present at any of the murders in question. The Cruel Ivy Killer was less likely to be defined by vines as much as a talent for mental manipulation. That was Lyle’s working theory, and it was why he’d immediately requested a mind cleansing for the shooter when he’d heard the news. That had been inconclusive, unfortunately. Enough so that John was willing to dismiss the idea already. But there were any number of reasons for that. A talent from a violet wouldn’t be overcome by a cyan’s attempt to cleanse it, for one. Or it might require a specific attribute to fix. It was even possible the talent was subtle, so even when it was removed, the victim wouldn’t be certain anything had changed.

Lyle didn’t know. But Bouvier was helping the killer. Two separate students had helped as well. A man had been convinced to murder his coworker with a single unsubstantiated claim. Maybe the headmaster was the killer. Maybe one of the kids involved in the incident was. Maybe all three were under the influence of a fourth party, or one of the other two. He didn’t have enough information to know for sure. But he was almost certain he was on the right track. 

He needed to find those kids and ask them a few questions. The girl first, if he could. Despite the universal uniform, she seemed like she’d be easy to track down, based on her description. Considering the distinct color of her hair and eyes. She might not have existed. Those details could be planted by the same talent Lyle was imagining. But if they did... well, it would be a start, at least. 

And it was a better lead to follow than the more obvious idea, if his theory was right. Considering the only violet known to have mental manipulation abilities was Cyan Asher. It was too soon to be certain of anything, of course. But if a violet with mind-altering talents was responsible, that left exactly one name to investigate. 

Several of the victims were suspected of working for the Asher family, which made that slightly less likely. And Lyle was honestly latching onto that.

“The killer is not an Asher.” That had been an order when he was hired, and he was honestly hoping to follow it. So he was going to investigate every other angle first. 

Which would take plenty of time, since he had so many threads to follow. And he was finally on his way to their epicenter. The school which remained connected to the killer in a way Cyan wasn’t. That was encouraging. Of course, there were no other violets who fulfilled that condition, either. But he’d worry about that when he ran out of safer leads to follow.

He was just furious it had come to this. Cops killing other cops on quiet nights. It was leverage Lyle needed, and he wished to God he didn’t have it. Because it wasn’t fucking worth it. And worse? If this didn’t work? It meant there was a chance he’d actually have to confront the Asher family. And he would not survive them.

At least for the first part, he could make Bouvier regret letting it go that far.

“I need access to all student files and psych evaluations,” Lyle demanded.

“You don’t actually believe one of my lancers is responsible for this, do you?” Bouvier asked. The exhausted man sat at his desk with his hands clasped together and a tense smile tattooed on his face.

Lyle wasn’t interested in debating the man. The evidence had been on the news for months. A student and an employee had been the first publicly announced victims of the Cruel Ivy Killer. The Prism train records had no one visiting every district on the nights of each murder. Almost three-fourths of the victims seemed to have some direct connection to the students. Students who’d just been used to execute a cop. The list went on, and both men knew everything on it.

“I said I need access to all student files and psych evaluations,” Lyle repeated. 

“You should take a seat, Mr. Lupin. We have far too much to discuss for you to stand there brooding in my doorway,” Bouvier insisted.

“Oh, I’m certain we do. And I plan to ask you about all of it. But I’m afraid any interview between the two of us will have to take place in my office,” Lyle dismissed. “The chairs are a bit less comfortable, but I can get you water as often as you like.”

Bouvier sighed. “We don’t need to be hostile with each other, you know. We both want the same thing. The safety of this city. I am happy to help you to the best of my ability. That’s all I’m trying to do. You can’t think threats are the best way to learn what you need?” he questioned.

“I don’t. But I tried this the diplomatic way, and you refused. Now a man is dead. A strong supporter of yours, I might add. So now, I intend to tell you what I need to do my job, and I expect you to provide whatever it is,” Lyle stubbornly insisted. He knew Abel was right, in a way. Playing the game always led to faster results. Allowing the headmaster to maintain his dignity and reputation would keep the investigation smooth. But Lyle was still angry.

“Fine,” Abel deadpanned. “If our relationship is to be hostile, then it will be hostile. But you are going to need to work with me regardless, so sit down and ask your questions.”

“Unfortunately, I am well aware of how your talents work. I’ve received a detailed briefing. I’ll be seeing a specialist after this discussion, in case you try to use one on me regardless. But I won’t be wasting my time on a conversation you can manipulate,” Lyle denied.

“I only use my talents to protect the city. I have no intention of manipulating you. Stop throwing a tantrum and ask me what you want to know,” Bouvier pushed.

“Fine. You said the killer was violet, but you offered neither evidence nor a name. Would you care to elaborate?” Lyle tried.

Bouvier drew his mouth to a line, and silence ruled the room for a few rigid seconds. Lyle clicked his tongue.

“I suspected as much. I’ll arrange a formal meeting where we can chat, free of talents. For now, I have requirements for my investigation, and it is your legal responsibility to comply,” Lyle continued.

“Where is Detective Knight?” Abel asked. “He’s much better at this.”

“I need access to all student files and psych evaluations,” Lyle repeated a final time. “I’ll need an office as well. One with blue crystal insulation. Unless you have violet. Privacy is imperative for the interviews I’ll be conducting.”

Bouvier frowned. “I can provide a dossier on every student, to include their callings, attributes, talents, and history. But I cannot share records on their mental health. You know that. It will take more leverage than either of us has to legally access those,” he replied.

Lyle had suspected as much, but it had been worth a shot. John had especially wanted those records in particular. Caleb Shepard, the school therapist, had a talent that helped with diagnosis. The man would know if someone was dangerous. Once he’d spoken to them for long enough and gathered as much information as possible, his talent could perfectly confirm any theories he had about them and help him find the most effective treatment plan. That was what the public record claimed, anyway.

Detective Knight was certain this would lead them to the killer. Lyle was skeptical, but it would be stupid if he didn’t at least check. Abel was right, though. Those records were protected by higher laws than a warrant could force. That was probably for the best, but it was a bit inconvenient. At least he’d asked, and John couldn’t harass him about it later.

“That’s fine,” he agreed. “I’ll schedule an interview with the staff therapist instead. Hopefully, that will be a sufficient replacement.”

“I’m certain he’ll be eager to help you,” Mr. Bouvier intoned. “I’m afraid he’s no more fond of me than you are.”

“I can’t imagine why,” Lyle mocked. “Now, I’ll also need a complete record of all incoming and outgoing traffic over the past twenty-four months. I need to know who rode the train at what times, and where they went.”

“That’s doable enough,” Bouvier agreed, making a note as he spoke. Lyle was irritated by the friendly demeanor. The performance of it all. As if Lyle wouldn’t have had all of this evidence months ago without this man’s interference. “Anything else?” 

“Incident reports. Anything related to anyone who's been active at this school over the past three months. I don’t care if the incident happened here, and I don’t care if it happened recently. If a kid scraped his knee and one of your lancers or professors was within shouting distance, I want to read the report.

“Certainly,” Bouvier agreed. “Will that be all?”

“Not even close,” Lyle answered. “I’ll need accommodations for an entire team of investigators, for one. And I’d like to schedule interviews with everyone on your staff. In reverse alphabetical order.” He’d ask to interview the students, too, but there were simply too many of them. It would only waste everyone’s time and flood his mind with useless data. He’d make a list of persons of interest after he’d examined the rest of the evidence. Then he’d interview relevant students. 

He only hoped there weren’t too many of those. At a school like this, he wouldn’t be surprised if there were more than he could handle.

“Reverse alphabetical?” Bouvier asked. “Why?”

Lyle didn’t answer, but he could tell it wouldn’t make a difference. That simple phrase had revealed the truth. As furious as Lyle was that Abel had protected the killer for so long... he couldn’t claim he wasn’t participating in the same. To an extent, at least. Because that decision had been calculated. The motivation was obvious.

Lyle was hoping to catch the killer before he was caught investigating anyone whose surname started with “A.” It was technically meaningless to swap the usual order. But it was cowardly all the same.

“Just get me the files.”